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honeybunnybeez · 3 years

Note

If you want to you could write some C! Dream being soft around reader?

Secluded Cabin's and Gentle Touches

♡Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader (with hints of platonic!GN!reader x Tommy and Tubbo)

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Format: Fanfiction

♡Summary: It's not uncommon for Tommy and Tubbo to bring people over to your place so you can help calm them down after a prank, but today they seemed to drag by a familiar face that you have yet to properly spend time with. Lucky for you, he seems to be longing to talk to you as well.

♡Au Setting: Au where the war never happens but tensions are still high.

"Get back here!"

Despite the voice ordering them to stop, Tommy and Tubbo continued to run like their lives depended on it, and to be fair, it kinda did in this situation. Wet hands stained in different coloured dyes served as proof of their crimes and a green hooded man wearing an awfully smudged looking mask makes it clear who their latest prank victim was.

"What were we fucking thinking!?" but a laugh at the end of his yelling as he dodges Dream's outstretched hand makes it clear that Tommy doesn't regret his life choices at all.

"I don't know!" Tubbo on the otherhand, was starting to regret his involvement in the prank. His legs were starting to ache and his chest began to burn as he slowly became exhausted. A wild chase like this isn't exactly new to them but Dream's persistence really makes it hard for a person to catch a breather between runs. "Tommy, where are we even going!?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond but a trail of scattered lanterns and torches answers Tubbo's question for him. Tubbo lets out a knowing, "ooooh!" And uses whatever remaining energy he can to keep up with Tommy, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind.

In the distance, they can see you sitting on your porch, playing with a parrot you had managed to tame while out searching for cocoa beans. Relief washes over them when you lock eyes with them and start jogging over with your bird in tow, a worried expression evident on your face.

They're quick to hide behind you when they get close enough, clutching the back of your shirt while trying to catch their breaths to answer your questions as to who they were running from this time and why.

"Dream-" is all Tommy can manage to wheeze out before he's coughing up a lung and swearing again.

"Ah," honestly, after knowing the pair for a good few years now, just mentioning a name gives you a pretty good idea of the type of prank they pulled and the danger they could be in. Thankfully, Dream wasn't a major threat, to you at least.

"Alright, alright, go hide in the house quickly and don't come out until I tell you guys to. If I die, make sure to take care of the farm animals and bees for me."

"Bless you, (y/n)."

"Your sacrifices won't be in vain, we promise!"

You give them a joking salute and urge them to go inside quickly, informing them that you can hear Dream approaching closer. Once the boys were safely inside, you tried your best to look as natural as possible with the limited time you had to adjust yourself. When Dream arrives, you can see that he's just as tired as the boys are thanks to the chase, though his stance continues to be tense as he frantically looks around for them, fists clenched tight until his knuckles turned ghost white.

"Fuck, where did they run off to?"

"Not gonna give a stranger a kind hello after walking onto their lawn with murderous intent?" You and Dream weren't really strangers per say, you had to meet up with him when you moved into the server after all, but due to conflicting schedules and how often Tommy and Tubbo dragged you away whenever he tried to make conversation, you two didn't know each other all that well. That doesn't mean that you didn't want to try though.

When Dream realizes where he was and who he was talking, he's quick to adjust his mask and hoodie to make himself look somewhat... presentable, as presentable as he can look with sweat marks and a messed up mask at least.

'Why did those two have to run up to your house out of all places,' Dream mentally whines to himself, clearing his throat and giving you a single awkward wave as he walks up to you.

"Hey, (y/n). I didn't know you lived in this part of the server," that was a lie. Dream did know where you live, he knew where everyone did but it would be a little creepy to just put that information out there, wouldn't it?

"It'd be a little weird if I just started screaming out my address to random people on the streets, wouldn't it?" You try to joke, earning a little laugh from Dream.

"Okay, yeah, you got me there."

You pat an empty spot beside you on your porch step, inviting Dream over for a bit of rest and he accepts your offer gratefully, practically slumping beside you as he suddenly feels just how tired he is.

"Love the new look you gave your mask by the way," Dream groans at your teasing and pulls at his hoodie strings, hoping to cover his whole mask with his hood. He's glad you can't see his face right now because he can feel his cheeks practically burning at the fact that when he finally gets a chance to talk and get close to you it's when he's a sweating tired mess who looks like a wreck at best.

"I'm going to kill those two when I find them," he mumbles under his breath.

The slam that follows within your home could not have been more terribly timed.

"What was that?"

"Must be my wolves," you lied through your teeth, knowing damn well that your actual wolves were sleeping in your bedroom, "they learned how to open doors recently, I think they're messing around at the moment."

While he's distracted, staring at your window to check what's going on inside of your home, you're quick to read through your most recent private messages on your communicator.

Tommy: HE'S HERE!

Tommy: (Y/N), WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING HIM TO FUCK OFF!?

Tommy: Fuck this, we're hiding in the kitchen.

Tubbo: We're making a run for it through the back.

Tommy: We'll hide in your barn like runaway children.

Tubbo: Isn't that what we technically are right now?

Tommy: (y/n), we're making a fucking run for it if you don't answer us in 3 seconds.

Tommy: 3!

Tommy: 2!

Tubbo: We'RE OUT! I REPEAT, WE'RE OUT!

"Yup," you pop your P a little at the end, annoyed yet amused at the string of frantic messages still continuing to pop up on your communicator as they make their escape, "definitely my wolves causing all of that chaos."

Dream knows that you're lying from the way you read through your messages but he doesn't say a word about it, choosing instead to take this golden opportunity to get closer to you without worrying about anyone getting in the way.

"Not really how you thought the day would go, huh?"

You can't help but laugh and shake your head, "Not at all, I thought it was just going to be another boring day with my bird, but hey, I'm glad you showed up to make it a little more special."

"Really?" Dream hates how happy he sounds to hear you say that, but he'll beat himself up over it another time.

"It's not everyday you see Mr. WasTaken himself visiting your humble home, now is it?" Oh, or maybe he won't.

"I guess not, that really should change, shouldn't it?" You can hear the little grin in his voice as he realizes the game your playing.

"It really should, but a quick heads up would be good, unless you'd like to deal with said 'wolves' I mentioned earlier."

He chuckles and shakes his head, mentioning how he's more than aware that those two 'wolves' of yours would probably rip him apart if he ever visited you unannounced.

It isn't long before you invite Dream inside, offering to help clean his mask as an apology on the boys's behalf. He claims that he doesn't mind but he would rather not take his mask off in front of you when he hasn't gotten to know you all that well.

"You don't have to remove it if you feel uncomfortable, I'll just wipe away whatever I can with a cloth, but if you're still hesitant, I'd understand."

He takes a moment to consider your offer, trying to see if you have any other ulterior motives. It's not that he doesn't want to trust you, he does, but sometimes you just have to be a little extra cautious even with people you like. Sensing no ill intent on your part though, he relaxes himself once more and accepts your help, letting his hood finally loosen and fall back to ease your process.

Your actions are incredibly comforting to Dream who can't help himself from leaning into your touches every once in a while. He watches you with his fullest attention as you wipe away the mess on his mask with a damp cloth. He loves how focused you look while doing so, taking in every little quirk you may have while you concentrate. His little crush on you that he's harboured ever since he saw you running around the server can't help but grow every second you give him your attention.

There's a certain draw to you that Dream can't fight off no matter how hard he tries, you just manage to hold a certain power over him and that was evident by the fact that he completely lost interest in continuing his hunt for Tommy and Tubbo even after finding out that they were still most likely on your property. Dream was a persistent man, he was never one to simply drop something with no proper reason at all. There was just this appeal to you that he couldn't describe and he was desperate to find out what it was about you that made him act differently than he normally would.

"Okay then, that's the last of it," he has to stop himself from letting out a whine when you pull your hands away from his mask, he wants to say something to try to get you to continue on longer but decides against it, not wanting to seem desperate. His eyes don't leave you even after you pull away, watching you rinse off the dirty cloth before throwing it into what seemed to be a bin filled with laundry. When you return to sit by his side, he can't help but swallow a bit of his pride to rest his head on your shoulder. It's a big risk to take, but at least he has an excuse for his actions if he ever needs it.

"Tired, Dream?"

"Mhmm," he feels himself melt when you let your fingers run through his slightly sweat damp hair, clearly unphased by the state of it much, to his joy.

"You wanna rest here for a while? I'm sure you could get a good nap in before leaving."

"That depends, can I still use you as my pillow?"

"Not like I have anything else to do for the rest of the day, knock yourself out."

"Then if you'll excuse me," his head is quick to leave your shoulder to instead rest in your lap and the blissful sigh he lets out escapes his lips before he can even stop himself. You just feel so comfortable to him. "I'm gonna drift off, wake me up in an hour or so, will you?"

You let out a hum in response and it isn't long before you start to see Dream's body go slack, his breathing now steady and deep as he slowly falls asleep. It's quite endearing seeing Dream act so affectionately towards you, something you certainly didn't expect from a guy who carries himself with a subtle wave of authority, but you definitely weren't complaining as you continued to play with his hair once again.

Dream would never tell a single soul about it, but this was quiet possible the best sleep he's gotten in years, if he even tried to sleep at all to begin with. The thought to just slow down and relax is never really on his mind, his head always spinning with things he has to do. However, with you, he's glad to know that he can look to you for comfort from now on, something he now realizes is rather hard to find on the server. It pains him to know that he'll have to leave in just a few moments but for now, he'll take what he can get from you and maybe, if you let him, he'll be sure to return your sweet gestures tenfold one day.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for being absent recently, I know the writer's block excuse can only go so far but- yeah ^^' I'm so sorry again for everything and I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for anon! Thank you so much for the rquest and feel free to request it again if you want me to remake this to hopefully suit what you wanted. Anyways, I hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for reading!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream x reader

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Venti: First Meeting and Friendship HCs

First Meeting HCs

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The god of freedom certainly lived up to the title. A truly free spirit who only wished the same for others. He shaped the many hills and cliffs of Mondstadt with his own hand, and graciously bestowed his powers unto those he deemed worthy. And yet…there he sat - teetering on the edge of a barstool, completely and utterly intoxicated.

The red-head manning the bar rolls his eyes at the sorry display the archon was creating, and resumes cleaning the glass in his hand. However as a bell rings out - signaling a new patron - he looks up.

You enter the famed “Angels Share”, the best tavern in Mondstadt - or so you’ve been told. Really, you’ll decide that for yourself - is what you think as you slide into an empty seat at the bar. Eager to unwind after a long day of adventuring, you order your drink and attempt to relax.

But really, your night didn’t end how you’d hoped at all. You ended up with a loud and incredibly clingy bard hanging off of your shoulder spouting barely comprehensible rhymes and poems. You would’ve found amusement in the spectacle if you weren’t so tired. Shrugging him off did no good, as he was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Thankfully, you got your sweet freedom as the bartender cut him off for the night, presenting the smaller boy with the shockingly large bill. A wave of pity washes over you as his face drops at the number.

He laughs awkwardly, attempting to convince the bartender that he could pay by other means, but the stoic man only sighs, trying to explain to the drop-dead drunk bard that he cannot keep the tavern open with “songs and sonnets”.

Really you were quite done with your failed attempt at relaxation - wanting to go home and just sleep the night away. Sliding a bag of Mora across the counter you state that it should be enough to cover both of your tabs. That was essentially all you’d earned via commission today, though, you can’t really find a reason to be mad about the extra expenditure. Helping people out - that’s just what you do. You don’t look twice as you exit the bar, though you feel a pair of eyes on your hooded figure as the door swings shut.

And that was that - you never saw the drunken bard again. Or so you thought. As the very next day you spotted him out of the corner of your eye while scouting around a Hilichurl camp, but as soon as you looked he was gone. And then that very same evening as you sat down for dinner at Good Hunter. Then several times over the next few days.

It was ticking you off, not just the fact that you had pretty much obtained a stalker, but the extra stress he brought with him as you now had to worry about his well being on top of yours during battle. You even started taking less dangerous commissions to further guarantee his safety. You didn’t really know or like the guy, but you certainly didn’t want him hurt, or worse; dead.

And by that point he wasn’t even trying to hide or disguise himself - trailing a few feet behind you nearly everywhere you went, drawing perplexed gazes from the townsfolk as you wandered from store to store for supplies. You were trying your best to keep your composure - to pretend he wasn’t even there in the first place - but the longer the charade went on the more cracks that appeared in your mask.

You didn’t mean to snap at him, honestly, but you were tired of putting up with a complete stranger following you around for no good reason - so you yelled at him. Right there in the middle of the market, the bard stood stunned - taken aback by your sudden outburst. He recovered quickly of course, smiling up/down at you like he hadn’t just been shouted at in clear view of the publics eye.

He hastily explains his actions, identifying himself as Venti - a travelling bard seeking inspiration for his next story. That night in the bar, he had been there lamenting - drowning his sorrows in wine over his recent pieces. They were all lacking ingenuity - a certain bit of flair that makes a story truly unforgettable. And that’s where you came in. You had caught his attention with your selfless act of generosity, so much so that it had given him that spark he he had been searching for. So naturally, he followed that spark - hoping it would continue to present him with the same creativity as before.

As you listen to his reasoning, the initial anger you felt mellows. You’re more than relieved that he’s not actually a creepy stalker, just a bard looking for inspiration.

Apologizing sheepishly for your actions, you scratch the back of your head. In that moment it was impossible to look into the boys eyes. You felt bad, truly. You had misread the situation entirely - thought it wasn’t all your fault. If the bard had simply approached you in the first place this whole fiasco could’ve all been avoided.

As you voice these thoughts to Venti he hums in understanding. He returns your apology with one of his own - bowing deeply with his beret in hand - shocking you and the few random townsfolk still paying attention to the scene.

Deeply embarrassed by the confused gazes the bard was drawing to them, you hastily accept his apology, tugging your hood further down to hide your hot face. Honestly the idea of just running away from the situation sounded quite appealing, but instead you restrain the urge - opting to walk past the boy as quick as possible.

Just as your shoulders brush, a hand latches onto your wrist - stopping your escape in its tracks. This time it’s Ventis turn to look sheepish, as he officially asks to accompany you on your exploits. He offers you entertainment and conversation, as well as any other skills he may or may not have - the latter only serving to confuse rather than convince you.

“Your journey would be far more enjoyable with a skilled bard such as myself by your side. Perhaps you would even allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

It’s not entirely uncommon for a bard to travel with an adventurer for inspiration, you suppose to yourself. Though you’re still more than a bit apprehensive on the matter. It’s not that you don’t want his company - really it does get quite lonely alone out on the road - it’s simply his safety that concerns you. But upon voicing this Venti simply chuckles, exclaiming that he’s much stronger than his appearance lets on.

Now - with no real reason to refuse - you accept his offer, earning a cheer from the bard. And so your joint journey began - you and Venti against whatever tasks or monsters needed tackling.

Friendship HC

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It goes without saying that if you didn’t have a vision before, you certainly have one now. Within the first week in fact. Waking up in the early hours of the day to a soft blue glowing vision beside your head was not something you ever thought you’d experience - but of course you’re not complaining.

Upon shaking the bard awake to show him your discovery he only gives a rather tame reaction - as if he already knew you had it.

“Hmm? You woke up to a vision by your side? My, my - what luck you seem to possess! Perhaps now you may go into battle with less distress.”

Travelling with Venti is never dull, as he fills the silence with stories of old - tales of the long deserted original city of Mondstadt, the creation of the seven nations themselves and other obscurities that you don’t remember hearing about in any history book. Often times he interrupts his own story to spill his own hot take on a major historical figure or deity - hearing him call Andrius a “mother hen in denial” had you spit out your drink. His storytimes often end with you wondering how exactly someone so young would have knowledge of times long gone. He always shrugs it off, quickly changing the subject with a smile filled with secrets. For a boy so young he talks as if he’s been around for centuries.

Any looming worries over his well being are quickly dismissed once you see him fight. His nimble fingers and sharp eyes shoot down all matter of foes in rapid succession, and his skills at utilizing anemo are completely unparalleled. Really, you’re left wondering how he’s not the adventurer here.

You will absolutely fall victim to his pranks there’s nothing you can do about it. Whether it’s the wind blowing your cloak around in your face, extra jueyun chilies in your food or a slime condensate down the back of your shirt - you cannot escape the impish bards mischievous side. It’s when he suddenly falls quiet that you have to worry. A silent Venti is a scheming Venti.

However this is not a one-sided deal at all, he welcomes - no, insists - that you prank him back. He doesn’t want you to be left out of the fun after all! So get him back for that frog he put in your pack, or the time he kept pushing air currents in your direction so you couldn’t land your glider. Really; the more creative the better. If you’re able to prank him successfully he’ll laugh with you as you celebrate, praising you for your victory. But be warned that his next scheme will be twice as good as yours.

If you ever need a break from his shenanigans, go hang out with a cat. He won’t approach you while the animal is around, however he will be pouting up a storm from a distance.

You’ve gotten to discover many quirks of the bard clad in green over time, like how the tips of his hair seem to glow brighter when he’s in a good mood - especially when he laughs, and that he’s completely repulsed by cheese. If he ever bothers you too much you can get him back by chasing him while holding the stuff. Some of that nasty, stinky stuff Sara has at Good Hunter should do the trick. Mind you that the boy is incredibly spry - so good luck keeping up.

Eventually, he ends up revealing his true identity to you after the guilt of lying begins to eat away at his heart - making it harder to keep up his persona. Really he’d wanted to tell you for months at that point, but a lingering feeling of apprehension - a worry that you may no longer see him the same way - kept holding him back.

“Y/N, I wish to tell you a truth I’ve been hiding. You see…in reality, I am Lord Barbatos.”

“…”

“That…actually explains so much…”

He’s relieved to find that nothing has changed between the two of you after his revelation. You still treat him like Venti the bard, just as you always have. It’s a weight off his shoulders to be sure, and you can tell his overall mood has improved too.

It’s still kind of shocking when he switches to “Barbatos mode”, as you’ve taken to calling it. Spouting bars of philosophical gibberish at the most random of times leaves you blinking in utter confusion and often times just hurts your brain.

At the end of the day, the God of freedom is incredibly lonely. The best way to describe it is that he’s detached - he’s out of touch with his ever-changing homeland and the people that reside in it. Only ever appearing to handle a major problem or calamity at hand and then sending himself into a deep slumber for hundreds of years.

Waking up each time is like mental whiplash for the poor god, as he sees towns rise and fall, people come and go and things change again just he’s beginning to get used them. It takes a toll on him - though he won’t let anyone see that.

He craves companionship and the feeling of belonging that comes with it more than anything. Placing unconditional trust in someone else, backing them up when the goings get tough and having them do the same in return. Providing a shoulder to lean on in moments of weakness and being so comfortable that breathing easy becomes the simplest thing in the world. That’s what he wants. Barbatos may not be human but his vessel is.

That’s why Barbatos cherishes his friendship with you so much. He knows you - like all other humans - have a finite amount of time in this world. In time, wrinkles will adorn your face, and strands of silvery gray will appear in your hair. You bones will ache as age seeps into your body. And yet he will experience no such afflictions - forever wearing the face of a young boy from another time. Ever ageless, frozen in time.

The dull ache that spreads through his chest at the thought of watching the one who he considers his closest friend wither away in front of him is…crushing. Even though he knows your time alive is brief, and that your death would only cause him more pain - he can’t stop himself.

He’ll spend nearly every day by your side, telling you tales of yore, pulling pranks and practical jokes, covering your back in battle and being there when you need it most. He wants you to experience the land and all its freedoms. He wants you to get the most out of what little time you have in such a vast and expansive world.

You’re the closest friend he’s had since the real Venti - and he sees bits of him in you too. You help fill the gaping hole of loneliness in his chest - one stemming from a millennia of duty and repressed guilt.

He knows you’ll eventually leave him, and one day hopefully he’ll come to terms with that. But for now, he’s content with you by his side, racing off into whatever dangers lie ahead.

————————————————————

This turned out so much longer that I thought it would I’m so sorry ;-;

I know you said all you wanted were headcannons but I think I went a lil too far…ok ALOT too far

I had fun though…so thanks for giving me something to work on!

—

No need to feel sorry! I loved it so much. Headcanons, fics, whatever you want^^ I stan talent and you have it 💕💕

I don’t know if you lads remember but when I was struggling over Venti HCs, this was the friend I asked for crumbs of inspiration that ended up giving me an entire fic. I went absolutely feral over it and wanted to share it with you all.

So thank you to @fulltimeventisimp [alt account] for your beautiful work and feeding us all Venti crumbs. I swear to god, if there is a Venti re-run and you don’t get 6 venti’s in one 10 roll it’s time to riot.

[No worries about tags]

Also, I know this isn’t my work but I’m going to tag you all in this

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @aanne2601 @aklxojjk @hanniejji

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siriuslymoon · 6 years

Text

Drugged - An Alfie Solomon’s Imagine

Requested: yes

Pairings: Alfie Solomons X reader

Warnings: drugging (spiked drink) swearing, and some violence

( gif from @lifetime-of-wishes )

{Alfie Solomons, prompt 24: “Who spiked her drink?}

*hope you enjoy 💕 Also I’m so bad at writing his speech, but I adore writing Alfie *

“No” you pouted, grabbing Alfie’s arm and holding on tight, burying your head into his chest, refusing to let him shift away from you.

He chuckled at you, the deep throaty sound making you smile as he pressed a kiss to your hair and continued to gently pry you off of him.

“Love” he muttered when you wouldn’t budge, his tone still soft, as one of his large hands raked through your hair, the strands slipping through his fingers.

“Alf, we never get to spend any time together, please don’t leave me” you tried your best to guilt trip him, knowing that behind that scary gangster exterior, was a big ol’ softy who still struggled with saying no to you.

He looked down at you, his lips twitching as you fluttered your eyelashes at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I know love, I’m sorry yeah, i am..but it’s business ain’t it. I’ll be back soon ‘kay…just, drink or somin” he kissed you briefly before making his way to the other end of the bar.

‘Soon’ turned out to be two hours.

You would’ve gone home but you were too tired to go all the way on your own, and then fight whenever Alfie got back, he’d be furious that you left without telling him and that you left alone.

So you stayed sat at the bar, swirling your drink around in your glass, watching as the liquor span, and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself.

Alfie was watching you, his eyes constantly switching between the man sitting beside him and you. Thick brows drawing together with concern.

It was known that Alfie was a big softy when it came to yours and his relationship, at first he tried to stay stern with you when in public- to keep up the intimidating image. But eventually he folded, and no matter where you went, or who could see, he would treat you like his queen.

He hated that you were sat by yourself, that he couldn’t give you one night to spend together, but he was so close to closing a deal that meant a lot of security for his business..so you were just going to have to deal with it for one more night.

You could feel Alfie’s gaze on you, hell you could hear him thinking from across the bar, but you didn’t want to meet his eyes…you were mad at him.

You were pulled out of your depressing thoughts when someone yelled something behind you, everyone in the bar turned to see the man at the back of the room, you weren’t exactly sure what he was doing but he was definitely causing a scene.

After a few drunken screams you got bored and turned back to your drink, just as someone was walking away from you; Alfie too had turned away from the drunken idiot, and looked over at you, frowning at man who was leaning beside you and then suddenly getting up to walk away.

He tried not to dwell on it, the man probably thought you were some attractive women that he could ask out, not realising you were Alfie’s until he got closer.

You caught Alfie’s gaze and flashed him a wide smile, before taking another large sip of your drink, completely forgetting that you were meant to be mad and that you didn’t want to finish your drink.

Alfie smiled back, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach and turning back to continue his business meeting.

He wasn’t sure how much longer it lasted, his attention was now completely on you, where you were currently stacking empty glasses, much to the man working the bar’s dismay.

You had just began yelling about an empire when the man beside Alfie started speaking again.

“Mr Solomon’s?” He asked, catching his attention.

“Everything alright?” He raised a dark eyebrow, darker eyes narrowing in some form of concern.

Alfie didn’t know..

“Listen, I ain’t gonna lie to you mate, I’m ‘avin a bit of a bad night right” his eyes never left you, the worry growing deep in his gut, running through his spine and making him jump.

“Is that you girl?” The tall man asked, following Alfie’s gaze, features blank as he pointed over at you.

Alfie nodded slowly, watching the man practically unfold in front of him.

“Think she’s just drunk” he smirked, teeth glistening under the hazy light of the bar.

Alfie suspected the man was trying to seem ‘helpful’, but he knew you. And he was begging to know this man.

“No, see, cause I’m sat over here ain’t I? And she’s alone yeah. And when she’s alone right, she don’t drink hardly anything. Swirls it around her glass don’t she, Fucking hours she can do that, I’ve seen it.”

Alfie didn’t know why he was telling the man this, or why his voice was rising as he did.

“Listen mr Solomon’s-“

“No don’t fucking ‘listen’ me mate, I think I know my own girl don’t I, you best keep your fucking mouth shut or-“

“Alfie!”

Alfie turned towards you, seeing you slumping against the bar, you hands hanging at your sides, mouth falling open.

“What the fuck!”

The man sitting beside him froze, swallowing, and allowing a pathetic attempt at realisation to mask his features.

“Goodness… I think she’s been drugged-..”

The man didn’t get to finish his sentence, Alfie was already up and racing away from him- towards you.

He wanted to slam the guys face into the bar, break every bone in his body till they resembled shards of glass, he knew he had something to do with this- but he had to help you first.

Alfie blinked, cursing himself for not realising this, and slipping his hands under your legs, lifting your body up.

He placed you along the bar, a crowd of strangers forming around you.

He swallowed down his fear, and placed two trembling fingers to your neck, checking you still had a pulse.

It was faint, but present.

“Oi! “ he yelled at one of the men he knew worked for him.

“Get fuckin’ Ollie! Tell ‘em to bring some men Yeah… And don’t let any fucker leave”

This was the Alfie Solomon’s everyone knew.

The screaming man, the man who wouldn’t think twice about killing you if you betrayed him, the man who would never let you live if you hurt his girl.

You had began mumbling things, about feeling sick, about your skin burning, about being sorry.

“Ay, I ain’t ‘avin none of that love” he brushed your hair away from your head, placing his lips against the damp burning skin.

The bartender brought him some ice and a cloth, Alfie rushed to thank him as he wrapped some of it up and placed it on your skin.

Soon Ollie turned up, eyes widening at the sight of his friend hunched over You , clearly willing away tears.

“Sir”

Alfie looked up, red eyes meeting his and nodding at Ollie to come over.

Ollie had brought men with him, just as requested, but he also brought a nurse- something Alfie hadn’t thought of.

“Fuck, I didn’t -“

Ollie dismissed him, sending the nurse over and a few men to block the doors.

“Sir, I need space” the nurse mumbled, scared to order Alfie Solomon’s around.

“fuck off -“

“Sir, let her help Y/N… Why don’t you focus on the punishment?”

This appealed to Alfie greatly, he thanked the few strangers who had made sure no one left the bar, before going to search the building.

The man he was having a meeting with had disappeared, but if he didn’t leave the bar he had to be hiding somewhere.

Alfie’s men found three men hiding in a back room, faces bleached white with terror, veins standing out against their pale skin.

As Alfie was looking over the men he noticed something.

“You” He grabbed their collar, forcing their back against a wall of crates, not caring when he heard some fall.

“You’re that drunken fucker aren’t you, yes..made a big ol scene didn’t ya” there was something about the slow drawl of his speech that made the man’s eyes widen

Alfie’s tone was empty, voice low.

“I- I didn’t mean anything by it” he stuttered, voice quiet from where Alfie’s hand was currently wrapping around his throat, fingers squeezing to bruise.

“Didn’t mean anything by it…. no i spose You didn’t… “ he tightened his grip, looking around the room “ don’t seem very drunk to me now mate”

He shook his head.

“Right well we ‘avent got all night. So I’ll only ask this once right, Who the fuck”

He paused, getting closer to the man, his speech causing spit to hit his face.

“Spiked.. her drink”

None of them spoke, no matter how hard Alfie or his men squeezed at their throats.

Alfie tutted, releasing the man and throwing him on the ground, moving to rest his boot on his chest.

“I would hurry up and speak if I were you… while you still have a tongue an all”

Soon they found out who did it, and who made him do it.

Alfie shouldn’t have trusted the man from his meeting.

He should never have left your side.

“Deal with them would ya” Alfie left the room, off to find the man from his meeting.

He dealt with him quicker, leaving him hanging on for life and chucking him in the room with his pals.

He returned to the bar, wiping the blood from his fingers as he approached you.

You were sat up now, drinking from a glass of water, nodding along to something the nurse was telling you.

You still looked pale, but your whole face lit up when you saw Alfie.

Moving so he could wrap his arms around you, burying his head against your neck, his beard tickling your skin.

The nurse told him what they had given you, and what she had to give you to counteract it, but he wasn’t really listening far too focused on holding you tightly against him.

“Had me fuckin’ worried you did love. Terrified I was… thought I’d… well I thought I’d lost you din’t i” he kissed at the skin of your shoulder, eyes slightly damp.

“I’m okay bub, I’m fine yeah” you reassured him, running your hands through his hair, feeling him smile at the pet name.

People had cleared out, giving you two some privacy, which the pair of you greatly appreciated.

“I think I’m the one, who ought to be comforting you ain’t I?” He grinned, resting his hand on your cheeks, running his thumbs over the curves of your cheeks.

“I’m just better at it” You smirked, kissing him gently, trying to calm him down.

He pulled away, kissing your forehead as you looked up at him.

“That you are love… let’s go home yeah” he helped you off the bar, leading you to the door.

“Alf?”

“Yes pet” he kissed your knuckles, smiling against the skin.

“Did you get ‘em?” You leant against him, his arms immediately going around you as you walked.

He chuckled, sending vibrations through you body, warming your skin.

“Yeah love.. I got ‘em”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomon's #alfie solomon’s imagine #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #prompts #blinderblood #alfie solomons imagine

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ms-belladone · 7 years

Note

💜. 💔, 💓, 💝, 💘, 💟

(Delve into my muses memories!)

[A memory about one of their loved ones]

Blake silently got dressed in her room, her mind racing. Tonight was the night. She had arranged it with Adam, she was going to leave Menagerie tonight with him for Vale. Sure, she was only twelve, but that didn’t matter to her. When her parents had stepped down from leading the White Fang, Blake had felt betrayed. Just because her parents were backing away from leading the fight in equality didn’t mean that she had to!

Blake padded out of her room, shutting the door quietly behind her, and strode towards the massive front doors of her house. Her plan was simple; leave the house while her parents were sleeping, meet with Adam, and leave on a ship bound for Vale. Nothing could go wrong with such a simple plan.

“Blake…?”

She froze, hand on the knob of the door that would lead her to freedom. Blake swallowed, throat dry, and turned around. She saw her mother standing at the entryway to the kitchen.

“M-mom, I-” She stammered.

Her mother interrupted her. “Hush, honey, it’s okay. I know what you’re doing.” Kali gazed at her daughter steadily, though not without love. “Your father and I left the White Fang for a reason, darling. The Fang you are running to is not the same peaceful organization that we led. You know this, yes?”

Blake blinked. She hadn’t expected this. She had thought that getting caught would result in yelling, an argument, tears, maybe even never speaking to her family again. Not… whatever this was.

Kali continued without waiting for a response from Blake. “Things are harsher than they used to be, Blake. The world is a dangerous place. Right now the Fang rob stores. What happens when they progress to muggings, or even murder? What will you do then, Blake?”

Blake cast her eyes down, not sure what to say. The thought hadn’t really occurred to her. How could it? They were supposed to be fighting for equality, not fear. Her mouth firmed, and she looked back up at her mother. “I won’t let that happen. And if it does, I’ll stop it.”

Blake met her mother’s eyes with her own determined ones. I won’t stop here, they said to her mother.

I know, and I still love you, her mother’s eyes replied.

Blake turned, breaking eye contact with her mother. Without a single goodbye, she opened the door and left. She didn’t look back all the way to the ship.

[A memory that leaves them feeling lonely]

“What about the crew members?”

“Move!”

Hearing the shout from Adam, Blake leapt behind him. Now was her chance, her one chance to save the crew working the train. She turned, ran, and hopped across the gap to the next car, turning back just as Adam finished with the Spider Droid. He trotted up to the edge of the gap, then stopped. Ever since he had started wearing that mask, Blake had been unable to tell what Adam was thinking. When they were kids, they wouldn’t have to speak in order to communicate, they had known each other so well.

But that was the old Adam, the one she had run away from home for. The one she… the one she thought she had loved. This new Adam was alien to her. He was a stranger.

“What about them?”

Adam raised his hand beseechingly towards her. Blake couldn’t decide if he was asking her to stay, or to take him with her. The thought of either made her heart throb painfully. When had it come to this…?

“Goodbye,” she whispered, as she cut the connection between the cars of the train. She watched as the latter half of the train gathered distance from her, pulling him further and further away. She continued to watch, even when he disappeared behind the horizon, and was only spurred to action when the half of train she was on began to slow.

She had just left behind the person she had once promised herself she would spend her entire life with, once they had gained equality for the Faunus. She had, when she was younger, often thought about what their life would be like. They would’ve had a small, one story home at first. Adam would work during the day and come home to her when the day was done. She would’ve cooked him meals, even though she might not be able to cook very well. They would’ve been happy together.

Except now, that would never happen. That future was closed to her forever. Blake gave one last long look at the horizon, before turning and hopping down off of the nearly stationary train. She should leave before she was caught.

[A memory about their friends]

Blake wasn’t sure how it had come to this. One moment, she had been peacefully reading her sm-literature in the confines of her new team, team RWBY’s, dorm, the next she was being dragged out onto the streets of Vale on a ‘team building exercise’ that Ruby had come up with.

Right now they were simply walking through streets and alleys, towards where Blake didn’t know, but Ruby had constantly assured her team that they were headed someplace special. Ruby and Weiss walked a little bit ahead of Yang and herself, the both of them chatting. It was a miracle to see that Weiss hadn’t bitten Ruby’s head off yet.

“So… Blakey!” Her own new partner said jubilantly, turning towards her. The nickname made Blake wince internally. Yang simply wouldn’t stop calling her it, no matter how much she protested. “I noticed you read a lot!”

Since even a blind man would have been able to tell that Blake reads often, she took this as to be another one of Yang’s jokes.

“Yes, you could say that.” Blake kept her own voice neutral. If she didn’t encourage her, maybe the blonde would leave her alone.

“Then that means you like books, huh?”

“Yes, I do.” Blake wondered where she was going with this.

“Soo… I guess you’re a regular Blakeworm, right?” Yang said, clearly holding in a giggle. When Blake only gave her a confused look in return, she clarified. “You know, like a bookworm, but instead of book, it’s your name!”

Blake blinked. “Yang, if you have to explain your joke, it’s probably not funny.” Was this really what this Yang girl found as humorous?

Yang pouted. “Aw, you’re no fun! You know that was hilarious!”

Blake kept her face purposefully blank. “No, no it was not.”

They held like this for a beat, Yang pouting at her and Blake returning with a blank look of her own. Then, the blonde burst out laughing. She slung an arm around Blake. “You and I are gonna get along fine, partner!”

Blake sighed in response. This was gonna be a long four years.

[A memory that made them feel loved]

Thunder rolled outside her home, rain pounded on her roof, and wind constantly shook the house. As lightning illuminated her face, five-year-old Blake Belladonna jumped and squealed. She couldn’t take this anymore. As soon as the rib-shaking thunder ended, she leapt out of bed and raced to her parents room. They were sleeping peacefully together, her dad snoring lightly. Blake crept up to the bed and crawled inside the covers, in-between them.

As soon as she felt her mother’s arms around her, Blake relaxed. She felt her mother’s light breaths on her cat ears, making them twitch.

“Did the storm scare you?” her mother murmured sleepily. Blake only nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. Feeling her nod, her mother continued. “Well, then you can stay right here until morning, okay sweety?” Blake nodded again and snuggled against her mother. Slowly, she heard her mother’s breath deepen as Kali fell asleep. Thunder rumbled again, but Blake didn’t care. She was safe as long as she was in her mother’s arms. Ever so slowly, the sound of rain pattering on the roof and her parent’s breathing lulled her into a restful sleep.

[A memory that gets their heart pounding]

“Blake.”

The sound of her own name made her shiver, though she wasn’t sure if it was in a good or bad way. At one point, she might have said good, but she wasn’t sure anymore. She turned to look at Adam, tall and imposing in his black jacket and…

His mask. The sight of it made her heart ache. It had been so long since she had seen him without it. It seemed to be his identity now. What had happened to change him so much?

Adam strode over to her, seeming to hesitate for the barest second at the last foot before he closed the distance. His arms wrapped around her stiffly. His touch both excited her and repulsed her. Her heart pounded in her chest even as she shuddered at his uncaring touch.

“I was looking all over for you…” he murmured. Blake barely heard him, trapped in her own thoughts. He had been like this ever since that first night, when they revealed their feelings to each other. He had become distant and cold. Could Blake have been wrong about him?

Adam lifted Blake’s face and kissed her. She trembled with both love and disdain. Why did she feel this way? Why did he? Was there something wrong with her?

He separated from her as quickly as he had come to her. “Don’t leave me again, Blake. It hurts me.” There was a threat underneath his cold voice, and it made her shudder again. He left her, then. Soon, she knew, some of his men would come and escort her to his tent. And there she would stay until he returned. As she prepared herself to return to her ca- to her home, she wondered, as she had many times before:

Does he love me?

[Wildcard!]

It was only a day in at Beacon, and Blake wanted to scream. Weiss had argued, or more aptly, yelled at, Ruby and then left. Yang was trying to comfort her, and Blake had become vaguely uncomfortable at the scene between the sisters, so she had left to seek solitude. And here she was, in her new safe haven:

The library.

Blake entered and fell in love at first sight. Or, rather, first smell. The scent of books pervaded the huge room, and caused Blake to relax. With a small smile on her face, she wandered the shelves, giving a light nod to the student working at the librarian’s desk.

At first that’s all she did, was wander. Losing herself in the plenitude of books, fiction and nonfiction, fantasy and scientific, mystery and horror. All of it appealed to her. Books were her safe haven, where she could escape into a different world. Smiling a little wider now, she selected a book at random. It was some form of adventure novel. She didn’t care what genre it was, though, she would enjoy it all the same. Sitting at a table, she opened to the first page. Smiling contently, she prepared herself for the journey that surely awaited her and the main protagonist.

#rwby #Blake Belladonna #Adam Taurus #ask #Kali Belladonna #Yang Xiao-Long

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kansascityhappenings · 5 years

Text

The Jayme Closs case: A chilling tale of murder, kidnapping and escape in rural America

https://embed-prod.vemba.io/vemba-embed.js

Jake Patterson lasted only two days as a temp at the Saputo cheese factory in Almena, Wisconsin, a largely forgettable stint but for a brief stop behind a school bus while driving to work on a desolate stretch of US Highway 8.

The chance encounter provided his first glimpse of a green-eyed, strawberry-blond middle-school student who boarded the bus that October morning.

He didn’t know her name. Nor did he know who lived in the nearby squat, ranch-style house with beige siding, set back from the rural Wisconsin road by a cluster of trees shedding golden leaves.

What he knew for certain, Patterson would tell investigators, was that she was “the girl he was going to take.”

She was a 13-year-old named Jayme Closs. And the story of her parents’ gruesome murders and her own kidnapping and escape after 87 days in captivity would soon grip the nation.

On the third visit, he would not leave alone

Behind the wheel of his old Ford Taurus, facing the taillights on the idling bus, Patterson’s elaborate plot began to take shape.

When it was over, he would face two charges of intentional homicide, along with kidnapping and armed burglary counts. He is being held on $5 million bail and hasn’t entered a plea.

Investigators said he provided chilling details of his crime in a lengthy confession, including his insistence he never would have been caught had he just “planned everything perfectly.”

Still, by his own admission, Patterson “put quite a bit of thought” into every detail.

For one, he took his father’s 12-gauge Mossberg shotgun, a fairly common weapon he believed would be hard to track. He grabbed half a dozen shotgun shells, then put on gloves and wiped them for prints. At Walmart, he picked up a black balaclava.

He shaved his face and head, so he’d leave no forensic evidence. At one point, he stole the plates from a parked car, then switched them with his own. He disconnected his car’s dome light to help conceal his appearance. He cut a cord that could unlock the trunk from the inside.

Twice, Patterson drove to Jayme’s home in Barron, a northwestern Wisconsin city of 3,300 residents about 90 miles east of Minneapolis. Cars in the driveway scared him away the first time. A night or two later, he aborted his plan after spotting lights and people in the house.

On October 15, though, he would not leave alone.

She knew her father was dead

He wore brown, steel-toed boots, a black jacket and jeans. The mask concealed his round, bespectacled face. Gloves covered his hands. The Taurus coasted into the Closs family driveway early that Monday morning with its headlights off.

Jayme was asleep in her bedroom when her dog, Molly, started barking. She got up, saw the car and rushed to wake her parents. Her father James, 56, headed for the front door.

Patterson shifted into park, stepped out quietly and walked to the redbrick entrance stairs. Fallen leaves surrounded decorative pumpkins and a pair of blue lawn chairs.

Jayme and her mother Denise, 46, took cover in the bathroom. They locked and barricaded the door with a cabinet drawer. Mother and daughter stepped into the tub and swung shut the shower curtain.

Behind white blinds at a window to the left of the front door, James Closs stood with a flashlight.

Get on the ground, Patterson hollered.

James Closs did not move. His flashlight illuminated the window.

Patterson climbed the brick stairs and opened the storm door. He pounded on the wooden door. Jayme’s father looked at him through a small, wrought iron-encased window pane in the middle of the door.

Show me your badge, James Closs demanded, mistaking Patterson for a cop.

He stared through the glass, down the chrome-plated shotgun barrel. Patterson pulled the trigger.

The blast shook Jayme, who cowered in the tub. She knew her father was dead. Her mother dialed 911 on her cell phone.

He turned his head and squeezed the trigger

It was about 12:53 a.m. when the call came into the Barron County Dispatch Center, three miles from the Closs family home. No one spoke. Dispatchers heard screaming. One dispatcher returned the call and got Denise Closs’ voicemail.

Outside, Patterson tried to break open the door. He ejected a spent shell and unloaded a blast toward the doorknob. He pushed the door open and stepped over James Closs’ body.

A flashlight in hand, Patterson stalked the rooms. One door wouldn’t budge. He checked the rest of the house: vacant. He returned to the bolted door. He couldn’t kick it open. He rammed it with his shoulder, over and over. The drawer. It took 10 to 15 blows from the upper half of his 6-foot, 215-pound frame before it split in two.

He ripped down the shower curtain. Denise Closs clung to her daughter in what the intruder would describe as a “bear hug.”

He handed Denise Closs duct tape and ordered her to cover her daughter’s mouth. When she struggled, Patterson rested his weapon on the sink and did it himself. He also bound Jayme’s wrists and ankles and helped her out of the tub.

He pointed the shotgun at her mother’s head and squeezed the trigger as he turned his head away.

Patterson then grabbed the 5-foot, 100-pound teenager and nearly slipped on the bloodied floor on the way out. He dragged her across the yard and forced her into the trunk of the Taurus. In all, he spent four minutes at the house.

Three Barron County Sheriff’s deputies were already on their way.

Patterson removed his mask. The shotgun laid next to him. He pressed the gas pedal. But only 20 seconds into his getaway, he was slowing for blinking lights and blaring sirens.

A deputy saw a Taurus yield to the passing squad cars. It wouldn’t be the last time during Jayme’s ordeal that law enforcement would encounter that car.

Patterson was ready for a gunfight, later telling investigators he “most likely would have shot at the police” if they’d stopped him.

In the trunk, Jayme heard the sirens. Then, they faded away.

At the Closs family home, deputies discovered the bodies around 1 a.m.; Jayme was gone. The deep drone of an Amber Alert soon buzzed cell phones across the state.

The door sign read: ‘Patterson’s Retreat’

For three months, police and volunteers across northern Wisconsin searched for her. Detectives chased thousands of tips. The FBI offered a $25,000 reward for information. Her parents’ employer added another $25,000.

Jayme’s photo circulated on posters. Strangers attended her parents’ funeral. Neighbors gathered at events in her honor. Relatives appealed to the public for information about where she could possibly be.

“Jayme, we need you here with us to fill that hole we have in our hearts,” her aunt, Jennifer Smith, said in a message released by relatives. “We all love you to the moon and back.”

The whole time, Patterson was holding Jayme in a cluttered, single-family home near the tiny and heavily forested town of Gordon, population 650, just 70 miles north of where she lived. A sign atop the front door greets visitors to the beige and brown two-bedroom home, set on 2.6 secluded acres: “Patterson’s Retreat,” it reads.

In the basement fireplace, he’d burned her clothes, the duct tape and his gloves. He’d had Jayme change into his sister’s pajamas. He was surprised to find no blood spatter on his boots or clothing.

Patterson forced Jayme to stay under his twin-size bed, shutting her in with bags, laundry bins and barbells when visitors arrived or he left the house. When his father came on Saturdays, he turned up the bedroom radio to muffle her movements.

He said he kept her in line by yelling and hitting the walls, especially the two times he noticed she had tried to get out from under the bed. He repeatedly warned that “bad things would happen to her if she tried” to come out.

During one outburst, Jayme said Patterson struck her “really hard” on her back. She sometimes stayed under the bed for as long as 12 hours, with no food, water or access to the bathroom.

She stepped into a cold, unfamiliar world

For a time, he kept the loaded shotgun outside the bedroom in the case the police came.

But two weeks after the kidnapping, he put the weapon away. Patterson later told detectives he believed “he had gotten away” with his crimes.

Perhaps it was this sense of confidence and accomplishment that led Patterson to apply for a nighttime warehouse job at a liquor distributor on the morning of January 10 — 87 days after Jayme’s abduction.

“I’m an honest and hardworking guy,” he wrote under the “Skills” heading on his resume. “Not much work experience but I show up to work and am a quick learner.”

That morning, Patterson had told Jayme he was going out for a few hours. And Jayme made a decision: She’d be caged no longer. She shoved the bins and weights away from the bed. Then, she crawled out from the 2½ feet that separated the mattress from the cold floor.

Freedom at her grasp, she unlocked the front door and stepped out into an unfamiliar, snowy landscape wearing only pajamas and her captor’s sneakers on the wrong feet.

Jeanne Nutter was walking her dog near her driveway about 4 p.m. when she spotted a blond-haired girl, alone, without a coat or gloves in the January chill. Nutter doesn’t usually visit her cabin in the winter. But on this day, she was there.

“Did she run away?” Nutter asked herself of the teenager. “Did somebody dump her off here?”

The girl came closer.

“I’m lost and I don’t’ know where I am and I need help,” the teen said.

Nutter recognized her face. Maybe from flyers or the countless television news stories.

“I’m Jayme,” said the girl, frightened but calm.

Nutter knew that name.

‘This is Jayme Closs! Call 911 right now’

She held Jayme tightly as they walked to the nearest home.

Kristin Kasinskas heard pounding on her door. Her neighbor stood outside with a skinny girl with unkempt hair and oversized sneakers.

“This is Jayme Closs!” Nutter told her. ��Call 911 right now.”

Inside, fear crept over Nutter. What if the kidnapper came looking for Jayme?

“Get a weapon,” she told Kasinskas.

The women dialed 911 as Kasinskas’ husband stood guard at the front door with a gun.

“Douglas County 911,” a dispatcher answered.

“Hi. I have a young lady at my house right now, and she has said her name is Jayme Closs,” Kasinskas said.

“Have you seen her photo, ma’am?”

“Yes. It is her. I 100% think it is her.”

Nutter soon took the phone. She said Jayme didn’t know where she was but had told them that a young man named Jake Patterson had killed her parents and kidnapped her. Nutter said he lived a few doors from her cabin.

“We’re kind of scared because he might come,” Nutter said.

But the dispatcher was still stuck at the start, asking, “And she said, ‘I am Jayme Closs?’”

“Yes,” Kasinskas said. “She said, ‘He killed my parents. I want to go home. Help me.’”

Catching on to the panic, the dispatcher assured the women authorities were on their way. “Ma’am, my deputy, she just wants you to lock the doors … and don’t let the dogs out or anything. Just everybody stay inside until I can get deputies there.”

“Are they close?” Nutter asked. “We’re nervous.”

Deputies pulled up to the house just before sunset, at 4:43 p.m. But even then, Nutter couldn’t trust they were safe.

“We need to let them in, right?” she asked over the 911 line.

Near her secret prison, a startling admission

When Patterson got home, Jayme was gone. He searched the house, then went outside and noticed her footprints. He got back into the Taurus to hunt her down.

Just then, a deputy ferrying Jayme away from the Kasinskas’ home spotted a red vehicle — a Kia or a Ford — approaching from the other direction. Jayme couldn’t say whether it was her abductor. The deputy alerted her colleagues.

Patterson by now had restored the original plates to his car. A license plate check by police showed the vehicle was registered to someone with the surname Patterson. An officer saw a male driver alone in the car and followed it past the house they’d soon come to learn had been Jayme’s secret prison.

Two sergeants stopped the Taurus. One ordered the driver to put his hands up, then opened the door.

Jake Patterson identified himself. He said he knew what this was about.

“I did it.”

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/01/19/the-jayme-closs-case-a-chilling-tale-of-murder-kidnapping-and-escape-in-rural-america/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/01/19/the-jayme-closs-case-a-chilling-tale-of-murder-kidnapping-and-escape-in-rural-america/

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