#and even in front of my supervisor without her noticing

[kittkattys]

They forgot something at the Pizzaplex.....oops

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 9)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut

Words: 2,678

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8

THIS PART IS DIALOGUE HEAVY AND PART EIGHT WILL BE SIMILAR, BOTH PARTS ARE NECESSARY THOUGH TO EXPAND THE STORY.

Two weeks later...

Just as General Groves had anticipated, the following week, you made your way to Robert’s final lecture at Berkley which was held in front of an audience of about fifty students.

The lecture itself was not relevant to your thesis but you knew that you had to see him, in an aim to clear things up.

You managed to get a letter to him through Professor Lawrance in the past few days, hidden within your thesis papers and, even though Lawrance told you as well that Robert was no longer your supervisor, you insisted for Robert to read it, seeing that her was the expert in this field.

After you begged, of course, Lawrance agreed to provide the paper to his colleague and, whilst you hoped that Robert would respond to your letter, he did not. At least not until now which is when you sat inside the lecture hall and he handed out some papers to everyone.

“I suggest that you read page two carefully Miss Y/LN” he told you quietly when, finally, he approached you amongst the other students and, of course, you knew what he meant by that and skipped right ahead to the page he mentioned.

“Thank you doctor” you told him as he moved on and handed out the remaining papers to the other students while, at the back of the hall, you could see two men watching the lecture and Robert’s interactions with you. They were spies for sure and you knew that, when hopefully getting to see him, you had to do so without being seen yourself.

Robert though played them well. He was nothing but professional towards you and the note he had hidden on page two was not noticeable to anyone but you.

“Meet me at Lawrance’s office. 3 o’clock. We need to talk” it said and, of course, you already knew what this was going to be about. He was going to tell you exactly what General Groves had already told you, namely that he could and would not see you again after today.

He would also tell you that your security clearance had been denied and that, at least for now, you had to forget about him.

Whether you could do that or not, however, was something that you had already thought about for the past week or so, ever since Lesley Groves’ conversation with you and you came to the conclusion that you could not.

Not after the letters he had sent you, telling you how much he desired you and enjoyed your company, and not after the passionate night you shared.

Of course, love was not something you believed in even though Robert referred to it on two occasions now and love was not yet what you felt for him. But what you felt was something more than just some intellectual and physical attraction. It was desire in its purest and most primal form which had developed into an addiction of some sort and this addiction needed to be fuelled in order for you to function mentally and physically. You thus decided that you needed Robert in your life and this was going to be a challenge.  

You were crazy for him and, clearly, he was crazy for you as well, going by what he had written to you and it were those letters which went through your mind just as Robert made his way to the lectern and began his lecture on naturally occurring atoms.  

“Concentrate Y/N!” you then said to yourself as Robert had started reading for the lesson and just as he spoke so passionately about physics, you took your pencil and slowly ran it down your neck and then to your collarbone, subtly squirming like you enjoyed the feel, though your face was serious. There was something extremely sexy and desirable about this man talking about atoms and your mind again wandered to the night you shared.

You could feel his eyes on you, glancing at you, as he went through some chemical reactions and him talking like this sent goosebumps all over your skin. You enjoyed the feeling and brought the pencil back up, now running across the seam of your lips in purposeful absentmindedness until he lost his train of thought and paused before picking up on his speech again.

This is when you decided to tune it down. You did not want Robert to be thrown off guard and knew that, after class, you would finally be able to catch a moment with him after not having seen him for almost four weeks.

***

At 3 o’clock and after shaking off the two men, who had been following you, by sneaking out of the lavatory window, you made your way too Dr Lawrance’s office which, unsurprisingly, was unlocked that day.

Thus, you made your way inside without knocking which happened to startle Robert who had already been waiting for you.

“Jesus” he cursed, afraid that it was one of General Groves’ personnel who had followed him or even you to Lawrance’s office. He was clearly paranoid and concerned about meeting you there, but he knew that he had to see you regardless.

“Has someone followed you here?” he asked nonetheless and you shook your head while, finally, approaching him and, in a haste, pressing your lips onto his.

“I missed you” you moaned against his lips while Robert kissed you passionately, only ever allowing you to pull away in order to breathe, which is something that continued for at least five minutes until Robert took a step back.

“We need to talk” Robert then said after your lips drifted apart and you slowly looked up at him with wide open eyes and a parted mouth before, wordlessly, reaching beneath your skirt and taking off your panties.

“We do, but that has to wait!” you determined, causing Robert to gasp with suprise and shake his head.

“We can’t Y/N…” Robert began to say but, as soon as your lust filled eyes met his, his grip on your waist tightened and he stopped talking.

“I suppose we can…” Robert then corrected himself, stammering out the words and you could feel his gaze boring into you and, just as you felt as though your lust for this man couldn’t have been any greater, he pressed his lips onto yours again for another passionate kiss.

As you were kissing, you slid your hands up his thighs and reached for the zipper of his pants. You pulled it down, undid the button and belt and then his briefs-bound cock pushed out of the opening.

“On the desk” Robert simply groaned as, eventually, you reached into his briefs and grabbed him, pulling his erection free. The gurgling noise he made at that meant that he was absolutely focused on what you were doing to him, so you let yourself lift your eyes and take in his flushed face, staring at your hand like it was God's salvation for his mortal soul.

“Not yet” you teased before licking your lips and descending on him, causing Robert to swear.

“Fuck” he cursed as, without warning, you engulfed him completely.

The feel of his length in your mouth and the weight of it was almost as good as the punched-out moan he made as you worked your tongue up and down his shaft for a moment before taking him in all the way again until he bottomed out.

Then you pulled back and took him in again, building up to a brutal pace.

Robert was grunting with every thrust into your mouth. He could not hold back as you sucked and swirled your tongue around the head, making sure he would never forget this moment with you, especially if this was going to be the last time for you both.

“Stop. No more” Robert eventually groaned before pulling slightly against your hair and, just as he did, you removed your lips from his pulsing hard shaft and stood up.

“I need to taste you and I need to be inside of you. It has been weeks” he then told you while pulling you over towards the large cedar study desk which, clearly, belonged to Dr Lawrance.

“Then have me Robert” you told him as he stared at your body intently. “Fuck me like you own me” you then demanded and Robert took a handful of your hair and pulled your head back playfully so that you would stare up at him. Your eyes went wide for a moment as you let out a little gasp before returning to the lidded hungry stare you had before.

Robert then leaned forward and kissed you hard on the mouth and your mouth tasted sweet and your moans against his mouth were whorish and wanton. He drank from your mouth and all thoughts of his marriage and the project slipped far into the recess of his will as he lifted you up on to the desk.

He then kissed down further, along your long neck and just above the v-line of your blouse before he kneeled in front of you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair.

As he was caressing your clothed body, you popped open some of the buttons on your blouse, thus allowing Robert to push it down and thereby exposing your breasts. He cupped the right one with his hand, gently twisting the nipple between thumb and forefinger. It instantly grew hard to his touch.

Robert then spent a moment or two with his mouth on each breast. Tasting every inch of your flesh, before he slipped lower and the heady aroma of your open sex filled his nostrils so that he was possessed by a strong desire to taste you.

As he lowered himself further, he took hold of your legs behind each knee and spread them apart as he pushed your legs up and your skirt back so that it was curled up against your stomach. Robert then kissed your left thigh and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flush, mouth parted, eyes unfocused but intent.

"You must be quiet" he managed say and you faintly nodded before he lowered his mouth onto your sex. You tried your best to muffle your squeal, but as his tongue worked its way into you, more moans and cries escaped your lips.

You tasted as sweet as usual, and he devoured you. He worked his tongue as deep into you as he could before wiggling it back and forth up over the length of your slit, and then sucking gently on your engorged clit.

You bucked and squirmed in response to his ministrations, but Robert held you down as his mouth locked onto you. Your fingers wrapped into his hair and you grinded yourself against his tongue as best you could.

You began a long slow whine that slowly built in intensity, punctuated by quick movements of your hips as you pressed your mound against his mouth. It almost sounded as though you were crying, and for a moment his concentration broke, and he was tempted to stop, but your grip on the back of his head told him otherwise.

“Don’t you dare stop!” you moaned just before Robert flicked his tongue quickly over your clit and your body began to shudder. Your whine became a steady cry, followed by convulsions, and finally a great big gasp, as your body went slack.

"Oh god” you then panted before pushing his head away, unable to take anymore. Your hair was mussed and your makeup had smeared a bit.

“Yes, my love?” Robert teased before standing straight and, of course, you rolled your eyes at his joke just like you usually would.

“You are so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” you teased as Robert finally brought you to your feet.

“Yes” he answered with a grin before kissing you again to let you taste yourself on his lips.

“Now turn around and lean against my desk” Robert then demanded before he spun your small frame around and bent you over his colleague’s desk.

“That’s Dr Lawrance’s desk, not yours” you pointed out before Robert stood himself behind you. You were limp and behaving more like a rag doll than an active participant, but after eating you to orgasm, Robert knew that he had to have you. He had been aching for you for weeks.

“I suppose it is Lawrance’s desk, but I am sure he would not mind us using it” Robert then said which made you giggle.  

“Very well then professor, I am all yours” you teased as Robert flipped your skirt onto your back and reached down between your legs, feeling that you were still slick and ready for him.

“You are indeed” Robert groaned before he lined himself up with your entrance without pushing into you just yet.

“Don’t tease” you demanded as you lowered your head to the desk and pushed back a little against his teasing cock.

“Please Robert” you then begged and, with that, he finally pressed into you slowly.

“I missed this a lot’ Robert groaned again as, finally, he took hold of your hips and pressed harder, to which you whimpered and moaned in pleasure.

“So did I” you gasped as he filled you.

"You are so very tight” he then told you as your channel gripped his length like a firm velvet fist. He could feel every inch inside you and, slowly, he began to rock his hips, small movements at first, then bigger ones, until he was fucking you in earnest.

You mewled as his member opened you and made your channel adjust to his size. He held your hips and pressed hard against you as you grunted with each thrust while, eventually, his cock was swelling.

"Oh god" you repeated as he fucked you in a steady rhythm until he briefly pulled out of you and turned you around.

“I missed having you inside me” you told Robert as you sat up on Lawrance’s desk again and spread your legs wide.

“I need you Y/N. I need you so fucking much” Robert said as he stepped in between your legs and re-entered you while you propped yourself up on your elbows and wrapped your long legs around his hips.

"I need you too, Robert. God, fuck me, make me yours” you moaned incoherently while your eyes were desperate and intently locked onto his. He leaned forward and kissed you in response, pressing his tongue into your mouth while you moaned against his lips, over and over again.

His own orgasm was building, but he did not want to stop just yet. Thus, his thrusts became more insistent and, with that, he drew you closer and closer towards climax as well.

“I am close” you said as if you were reading his mind while you leaned back and looked at Robert through lidded eyes.

“So am I” Robert told you as he felt your legs lock tighter around him and, just as you decided to hold on to for dear life, he pressed himself into you hard.

“Oh god, yes! That’s it” you almost screamed as, all so suddenly, you climaxed again. Your orgasm hit you like freight train and just as your walls began to convulse around his shaft, he exploded deep within you, filling you with his seed. He was thrusting hard with each spurt, and you wrapped your arms around him as it was his turn for his body to shake.

His orgasm was intense and, within seconds, his cum seeped from your channel and down his shaft, eliciting a final groan from Robert when he took a glimpse at where you were still connected.

“We really do need to talk” Robert then eventually said as he pulled out of you and felt the tension loosen inside of him as he momentarily closed his eyes and relaxed.

“Yes we do and now I can. I just needed to get this out of my system first before I could put together some logically thoughts” you said before reaching for Robert’s handkerchief and using it to clean yourself up.

“Do you mind if I keep that?” you then asked, causing Robert to chuckle.

“Not at all” he then said, pulling up his briefs and pants, before he leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Your security clearance…” he then began to say but you interrupted him.

“I know, General Groves came to interview me” you told Robert while adjusting your skirt. “He told me that you were instructed not see me again, but here you are, engaging in some intimate relations with me” you chuckled, still out of breath.

“General Groves should use his words more wisely as he did not say that I cannot see you again. He simply said that I must not engage or liaise with communists and, since you are not a communist, I do not see an issue with seeking you discreetly” Robert then pointed out while caressing your face.

“Discreetly, huh?” you chuckled before asking Robert what he thought was happening next.

“What do you mean?” he asked gently while looking into your eyes.

“With us, Robert. Where do we go from here” you wanted to know.

“Well, I will continue to try my luck and convince Groves to get you clearance for the project and, in the meantime, I will come here and visit you whenever I can” he explained.

“Robert, the General has already read your two letters to me. So, how do you expect to make contact without them noticing?” you asked, seeing that, no doubt, Robert was being watched.

“I will find a way my love. I promise” he promised you while cupping your face with both of his hands.

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to end it?” you argued, but Robert shook his head.

“I can’t do that” he told you.

“Why?” you queried, seeing that seeing you would be risky.

“Because I need you in my life Y/N” he then determined and a surprisingly warm and fluttering feeling crept up inside of you. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to you and you could not describe it.

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMER ON CHAPTER 1 BEFORE PROCEEDING!!!!!!

Chapter 2

[Prev] [Next]

Law knew his eye bags were heavier than they usually were, so it came as absolutely no surprise when one of his nurses expressed deep concern for his unusually tired appearance.  And that was saying a lot.

“Room 305 is doing well on aspirin, their blood pressure has improved dramatically since yesterday morning– Dr. Trafalgar, do you need another coffee?  You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” she expressed, her eyes heavy with worry.

“I’m alright, Rebecca, but thank you,” he responded without a single fluctuation of his tone.  Though, he was definitely a tad embarrassed that his lack of sleep from the night prior was that evident.

His pink-haired coworker continued walking alongside him, flipping through her charts from her latest rounds in the cardiac care unit.  Not wanting to press further and risk upsetting him, she simply continued catching her supervisor up to speed with the patients in his ward.  “Room 306 has been slightly unstable since his triple bypass surgery, so he was on extra monitoring overnight but hasn’t shown any significant signs of distress.  Room 307 however is still intubated, with arrhythmia that comes and goes at random.  He has both you and Dr. Tony overseeing his care today.”

Law nodded along with Rebecca’s words, and he truly was trying to absorb them as best he could, but he couldn’t get his mind off of you at home.  He knew Shachi and Penguin would be good company, but he truthfully wanted nothing more than to be home with you at every waking moment, making sure you were okay.  The constant thoughts of you from the night previous made his entire chest ache, the sounds of your distraught sobs echoing in his brain constantly.

“Dr. Trafalgar?” Rebecca once again questioned.  She had stopped walking and Law hadn’t even noticed.  He turned around, startled at his lack of awareness, and turned to face her.  This time, her brown eyes were profoundly concerned.  “If something is seriously wrong–”

“I’m fine, I swear,” he urged, briskly cutting off her statement.  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.  I apologize for my lack of attention, please continue with your notes.”

After a few brief moments, Rebecca sighed through her nose and flipped to the next page on her clipboard, continuing her briefing.

In a way, he was partially thankful for an unassuming round.  He really needed to clear his head in time for his next surgery in an hour.  This wasn’t like him.

—

It was around 9:00 PM when the front door to your apartment opened and closed softly.  You were on the couch with Bepo, barely keeping your eyes open at the mindless television program in front of you when your husband walked through the door and hung his jacket on the coat rack, kicking his shoes off of his feet.  Bepo seemed to know the drill, quickly hopping off of the couch and trying to make it seem like he hadn’t been lying there for an hour.  You watched with a faint smile as Law exhaustedly trudged over to where you sat, flopping down next to you and resting his head in your lap.  His nose was nestled into the plush of your belly, making you suppress a giggle at the ticklish feeling.  Your hand immediately gravitated to his mop of thick, black hair.

“Busy day?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Law groaned.  “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t thinking about you all day.”

You frowned.  “I know… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I just can’t help but be nervous for you.  It’s not your fault.”  Law’s hand trailed to your hip, rubbing lazy circles into the skin below your pajama shorts.

“If it helps ease your worries, Shachi and Penguin took a huge load off today, they spent the entire day with Bepo.  They even did your laundry, if you could believe it,” you stated with a dry chuckle, thinking back to a few hours prior when Shachi was boldly making fun of the gaudy pattern on a pair of Law’s boxers.

“That instills some confidence,” he joked back at you.

Your fingers continued to comb through his hair, making his eyes close with the content feeling.  “Any interesting cases today?” you asked, desperate for a way to distract him from what was on his mind.  Frankly, you needed the distraction too.

Law hummed, thinking back to the morning.  “When I arrived this morning I had a patient in the OR for Carotid Artery Disease, so we did a carotid endarterectomy to help him with that.  Very pleasant man, I spoke to his family during my final round when he was moved to recovery.  He had suffered a very minor stroke a few years prior, so hopefully this surgery greatly reduces his risk for another.”

You nodded along with Law’s words.  You were always allured at the way he could talk about his work for hours if you let him, and with the weight hanging over both of you, you desperately wanted him to.  You could listen to him talk about cardiovascular diseases for the rest of your life if it meant not having to deal with the reality of your situation.

“What’s Carotid Artery Disease?” you asked, hoping he couldn’t catch on to the way you silently begged him to keep talking to distract your fuzzy mind.

“It’s a condition where a plaque builds up in the carotid arteries in your neck,” he explained, picking up his hand and trailing his tattooed fingers along the side of your neck, demonstrating where the vessel was.  “It’s sort of similar to the way certain blockages can cause heart attacks, but because the plaque builds up in your neck, it could cause strokes.”

You continued nodding.  “That’s interesting… any other surgeries today?”

Unbeknownst to you, Law was most definitely catching on to the way you urged him to continue speaking, using his voice to block out the anxious radio static in your head.  He slowly sat up, leaving your lap feeling cold and vacant before pulling you into his chest.  Bepo came to sit at the base of the couch, resting his fluffy head on Law’s thigh.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it right now…” Law began.

You closed your eyes and sharply inhaled through your nose.

“But I did call a urologist today to set me up with a brief fertility examination,” he continued.

You were scared to look up at him.  “What will they do?”

Law idly trailed his fingers up and down your sides.  “Most likely a semen analysis, blood test to detect hormone levels, or an ultrasound,” he explained.  He paused, anticipating your reaction, but got none.  With a sigh, he placed a hand on the back of your head, holding you close.  “I know it’s really hard to talk about it, but I want to rule out every possibility.  You don’t have to call so quickly, but I think it would be good to get in contact with your gynecologist again.”

You feebly nodded into his shoulder, your forehead resting where you now knew his carotid artery lay.  “I know… I will.  I promise I will.”

Law encouraged you to pick your head up to look at him.  “You know I’m not the best with words,” he blankly stated, bringing a very small smile to your lips as you nodded.  His calloused hand caressed the skin of your cheek.  “But I’m going to be with you through this entire journey, no matter how long it takes.  I’m your husband, I’m not going to leave you over something so…” he trailed off, looking for the appropriate word.

“Pointless?” you offered.

He quickly shook his head.  “No, not pointless.  Far from that.  Maybe ‘idle’ is a decent word.  An idle issue.  An idle issue that will resolve with time.”

“Might resolve,” you countered.

“No.  Will resolve.”  Law was steadfast in correcting you.  You could tell it was taking an incredible amount of energy for him to keep a positive head.  As much as the entire fertility situation greatly upset you, you found a spark of hope and joy in the way Law was, surprisingly, keeping optimism.  It wasn’t near enough for both of you, but it was better than nothing.

“I’ll call my OB-GYN tomorrow morning when her office opens…” you muttered, dropping your head back down.  Law hummed in response, now taking the time to pet your hair with his fingers.  

The room fell into moderate silence before Bepo huffed, demanding to go outside.  You snorted at the sound, picking your head up and looking at your husband.  “I’ll take Bepo to pee, there’s leftover lasagna in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Law lifted an eyebrow.  “Lasagna?”

You finally stood, stretching and popping your back.  Bepo excitedly ran toward the door, eagerly bouncing on his paws for you to hurry up and follow him.  “Penguin was cooking all day today.”

Law grinned.  “Nice, I’ll make myself a plate.”

He watched as you slipped on a light jacket and pulled Bepo’s harness over his body, looping his leash and exiting the apartment.  With a groan, Law stood up and meandered to the kitchen towards the refrigerator.  

You didn’t have many decorations or magnets, a few small sticky note reminders here and there, but a gift-shop magnet from a trip you took while still dating was stuck to the metal, holding up a candid picture of you and Law on your wedding night.  Law still had no idea who took the image, but every time he looked at it sent butterflies through his stomach.  You were both in the middle of dancing to an energetic song, you happily clinging to his arms with the brightest smile on your face.  Your eyes were creased with unparalleled glee as you stared up at Law, who was looking back down at you with his own cheerful grin.  The lights had blurred around you with the motion of whoever took the photo, but it made an ethereal golden glow surround your dancing figures.  Your wedding night, albeit cliche, was the happiest night of Law’s life.

His stomach grumbled, interrupting his thoughts.  He mindlessly reached for the leftovers in the fridge.

[melimelissa998]

Slut!

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You knew how handsome Jungkook was, but you also knew you didn't have a chance with him, so to befriend him was a safer option. But sometimes being kind can give the wrong idea...

“Did, you, hear?” my coworker Daniela asks with big pauses in between, I’m too busy with my morning reports that I didn’t notice when she sat on my desk “The new guy is going to be working on our floor for a few weeks” she informs me and I nod “Yep, you texted, emailed and told me that on the phone before I got here Dany” I say without taking my eyes off the computer screen.

Almost a month ago a new guy started working here and that’s all this office has been talking about since then. How handsome he is, how good he dresses, how lovely he talks… and the list goes on and on. Even though he had a month here, I haven’t actually seen him, besides, I went off vacations the week he started working on our floor.

Honeslty at this point he's not even the new guy anymore

“He’s just so handsome, his name is Jeon Jungkook, he’s a Virgo, 5’11”, went to Global Cyber University, and I swear, I’m in love.” She puts one hand on her chest and fans herself with the other. “Aw, good for you, stalker.” I say in a sarcastic tone “. I except my wedding invitation” I joke with a fake smile and she lets out an exaggerated sight. “He’s in the conference room with Namjoon and Taehyung, want to pass by to see him?” She suggests and gives me a small push on the shoulder “Did you say pass the conference room to see the new guy?” Jennie’s head pops out of her cubicle, I try not to laugh but I give in and accept “Only because it’s on my way to the cafeteria and I want my coffee” I say and she claps in excitement, I turn off my screen and hop off my chair. Jennie walks around the desk to loop her arm with mine and tugs me to start walking. As we pass by the long window, I spot the 3 men inside the room; Namjoon and Tae are facing our direction leaning on the meeting table talking to the Jungkook, who was giving his back to us. “Ugh, I swear he’s so handsome” Jennie says in a whisper, “I know right?” Daniela agrees, I try to look behind her head to take a better look at the new guy, but I only catch a glimpse of his profile. He has black hair and a really cute nose; his jaw looks really sharp and I see how many earrings he has and I think that’s what shocks me the most. “I can’t see his face but yeah he looks cute” I compliment, they agree with a giggle and I feel dumb remembering we are not teenagers anymore but sure act like it in the office.

While finishing our coffee and telling my friends how my vacations were, I hear the attempt of whispers coming from a certain area in the room, the 3 of us turn to see why there were loud whispers and it was all because the new guy was entering the cafeteria. I take a better look at him, handsome indeed. “Oh, so now I see why we’re all drooling for him.” I say and look at Daniela and she wiggles her eyebrows at me.“I heard Ari invited him for a drink and he said no” Jennie tells us and I can’t help but grimace. “Yeah? I heard it was Jihyo who invited him for dinner?” Daniela says in a question tone. “Her, Ari, Hanna and even Supervisor Yuri asked him out, but he keeps rejecting people, I mean come on, Ari? Who says no to her? Like the hottest one from the office?” Jennie rolls her eyes and I can’t help but laugh at her frustration. “Come on, he’s been here less than a month, let him breath.” I defend the poor guy, Daniela gives me a small push “You should ask him out Y/N, he looks like your type” she encourages me and I shake my head “Nop, if he rejected Ari and Hanna AND supervisor Yuri, then no.”

I take the last sip of my coffee and trash it out. Jennie and Daniela do the same and as we walk out the cafeteria, I hear someone call out the unfamiliar name of ‘Jungkook’ andby instinct I turn to see who called his name, I see there’s a coworker in front of Jungkook and he half smiles at her. I see his face with a “here we go again” expression, she gives him a small box with a bow on it and hear her ask if they could talk in private. I can’t help to chuckle thinking how we were just talking about this, he must’ve heard me because he turns to look at my direction, he stares at me but I can’t read if he’s mad about my laugh or just casually felt my gaze on him; I don’t turn away, I like how his eyes are dark brown but I still see a sparkly cute glow in them that make me want to keep staring. I start to feel conscious about how I haven't taken my eyes off him so I turn around a little ashamed and keep walking straight out of there back to my desk again.

Around 12, I feel so bored and try to distract myself with anything else I can do until I have my lunch break in 30 more minutes, so I decide to make Jimin a visit to his office to catch up on my days off, I take a fake deck of papers and walk to the elevator to go up, when I arrive to his floor, I greet his assistant and let her know that I need Jimin to sign a few documents; “Of course you do Miss Y/N” she jokes “He’s already waiting for you” she points with her head to his office and I try to not laugh.

Jimin and I meet here at work, even though we were side by side cubicle we would only exchange ‘HI’s’ and ´Good mornings´ the first couple of months, but one day I saw him reading one of my favorite books and started chatting more and book clubbing during our lunch hour, then he got promoted to a higher position and moved 2 floors higher, but even so we still kept meeting up and sneak in his office to gossip or just hide from our work responsibilities slash wait until lunch to run off.

I knock on his door and don’t wait to hear him say come in, “Excuse me Mr. Park, I need your very important signature on these reports” I fake a serious tone and I see him panic for a second before realizing it’s just me. “Oh Y/N! you’re back” he gets up and walks to hug me.

We sit on his sofa and catch up about work, my vacations, a few gossips that’s been going around the company and of course we talk about Jungkook.

He talks about how they already knew each other before work because of Tae, he also told me how done he’s with all the girls at the company because they keep flirting with him. “I’m telling you, on the first day he had already like 8 sticky notes in his office with their numbers” he kept telling me, I didn’t want to laugh because I did feel bad for Jungkook, but I couldn’t believe how crazy they were for him, “I mean he is handsome, but oh my god, I would never do that” I say and he smirks at me “Oh so you won’t ask him out?” he asks and I shake my head “Oh hell no, I know where I stand here” I say and he rolls his eyes “Don’t say that, you are very pretty, you may have a shot” he encourages me “I know I’m pretty.” I brush my hair behind my shoulder “. But I also know when I have my shot” I shrug my shoulders and try to change the topic about what we were going to have for lunch.

Jimin and I pick a restaurant near the office close enough to walk to and invite our friends to join us. As we sit at our table Namjoon asks if it’s okay if Jungkook could join us, which we said it was fine, Jennie and I look at each other and giggled. The only chair free by the time Jungkook arrives is the one next to me and even if I told myself I wouldn’t try to ask him out that didn’t make me not be nervous. He greets us and we say hi back.

During our lunch I felt Jungkook too quit and I didn’t want him to feel left out “So Jungkook, how do you like the job so far?” I ask him and he turns a little confused at me “It’s fine, I’m okay” he answers and I expect for a little more than that but I realize that was all he is going to give me. I nod a little embarrassed and try again “That’s nice, and what about the city? Jimin told me you were from Busan” I do the small talk but again he answers with a few words “It’s nice, almost the same” I feel even more stupid and turn to finish my food.

And to think they said he was lovely…

For the rest of the lunch he would keep a conversation with the boys and that kinda made me a bit mad how he would chat with them but made me feel small…

2.

[thegreathuxton]

Came and Never Left

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem! Reader (No use of Y/N)

Inspired by "The Day That I Met You" by Matilda Mann.

Summary: "You're wasting your potential at Bunchurch, you know... Call me, and I will take care of you. I promise."

Warnings: I'VE READ THE BOOKS SO THERE MIGHT BE SPOILERS. Cannon-typical violence. Reader has parent issues (Father isn't in the picture, and mother just passed). Depictions of death/homicide. Slight mentions of the reader being bullied/put down by coworkers.

A/N: Maybe series incoming? Idk, we'll wait and see. BTW, don't worry about the little numbers. I like separating my work into sections, just in case you accidentally close out and lose your place. Just remember Chapter/Part Whatever, Section 69, or something like that.

(PART 2)

1.

It was pouring outside and just minutes before curfew. You cast a nervous glance at the phone book, sitting on a table by the door. The yellow pages glared with agency ads, especially from Rotwell's and all of their new technology developments, such as iron tape and ghost alarms. The ghost alarm was bogus, you found. It was nothing but a rod, some spiderweb, and a bell attached to the end. It did ring, sure, but incredibly late. Your mother had bought it before she died. It rang an hour after her apparition attacked you in your living room, late one evening. And the iron tape was something you had bought on your own time. It now lined your bedroom walls.

The page the phone book was open to had another agency ad in particular that made you antsy. The silver and black stood out against the vomit-yellow color.

A. J. LOCKWOOD & COMPANY.

Beneath was a phone number, provided for leisure. They were small and they were cheap. And you knew no one from that company, which made you feel better.

There was a sudden knock on the door that broke your attention away from the book. You took a deep breath, fixed your wool cardigan so it covered you (you didn't think about the way this was a very grade-school English teacher moment), and unlocked the door. You expected a team to be at your front door, but no. Just one boy, about your age. Tall, strikingly handsome, and charming without having said a word. He was dressed in a fine-pressed suit, which was only kept dry by the stark black umbrella looming above his head.

"Good evening," he said. His voice emulated milk and honey. "My name is Anthony Lockwood, head of Lockwood & Co. I've been informed of your situation, and I'm here to help. May I come in?"

2.

You brought him to the kitchen and put on the kettle. He sat down at the table and had a few biscuits that you politely offered to him before sitting down across from him, nervously twiddling your thumbs and trying to act natural. You didn't want to make yet another enemy from an agency other than the one you were currently employed at.

He ate while flipping through the week-old newspaper. Once he was done, he sat back and smiled at you. It was like the sun had just come blasting right through your window. You sat up straight, and he fixed his tie.

"So, you're an agent as well?" He asked you so bluntly, but his smile never faded.

"I am..." You murmured back, unable to meet his gaze now.

"I'm sorry to sound so rude. I just noticed the rapier and work belt hanging by the door when I first stepped inside. Which agency are you from? Rotwell? Fittes?"

"Bunchurch," you said. "My mother worked there when she was a kid, as a researcher, and she was one of their biggest donors and contributors into their own research of The Problem before she passed."

"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that. What talent do you possess?" He showed a brief amount of sympathy before moving on.

"I'm an all-rounder, as my supervisor likes to put it. I'm pretty mediocre at everything there is. I do some field work, but..." You trailed off. "They usually stick me on the research end of things."

Lockwood nodded, once again, sympathetic.

"Again, I'm sorry to hear that, but I must ask you something." He then leans forward. His hands come together, and he rests his forearms on the table. "Why did you call on us rather than Bunchurch?"

You stiffened at the question. He was forward and all business. You obliged him, not wanting to be a burden.

"They don't exactly treat me as well as some would want to think," you began, fingers now mindlessly picking at your mother's choice of tablecloth. You stuck your pinky finger through a small burn hole, left by one of her cigarettes. "And if I told them I couldn't deal with one measly ghost on my own, they'd probably laugh and put me out on the street..."

You look back up again, and Lockwood's eyes are glued to you. His eyes are such a pretty brown color. You look away again.

"What makes you say you can't deal with the ghost on your own?" Lockwood was very quiet when asking this.

"It's my mother," you said back, equally as quiet. You both sat in silence for quite some time. He took a patient breath.

"How did it happen?"

"Burgurlary gone wrong," you whispered, still picking at the cigarette burn. "I was out on a job. Mom had horrible hearing. She lost the ability to hear out of her right ear when she was fifteen. Some idiot on her team had horrible aim and hit her with a salt bomb. It went off when it hit her face. Robber came right in the dead of night, and she didn't hear him. She woke up and went downstairs just to get some water. Guy thought she had seen him, and just..." You made a gun with your hand and put it to your forehead. You slowly lowered your hand. "Neighbors called the cops. Cops called DEPRAC, and DEPRAC called me while I was on the job."

"And she attacked you?" He asked. You nodded.

"Three AM, just a few nights ago. I went downstairs to get a glass of water, just like she had, and there she was..." You sighed. "She could be rather cold, personality wise, but I never imagined her coming back as a cold maiden."

"Type two?"

You nodded once more, and Lockwood does as well. The kettle started to scream from the stove. You quickly stood up and tended to it.

"English breakfast or Earl Grey?" You asked.

"Earl Grey, please, with a dollop of honey, if you have it."

3.

You helped him set up in the living room. It was the least you could do in exchange for his kindness and patience.

As you laid out a circle using the iron chains he had packed in his dufflebag, he examined the room, all the pictures that hung on the wall, and the traces death-glow left on the wooden floors. Your mother, unfortunately, had been shot on her favorite white carpet. DEPRAC had rolled it up and took it to the furnaces to be incinerated, along with a few other items that had been spattered with blood. Many other items were packed in cardboard boxes.

"Planning on moving, I assume?" He hummed.

"Just to the quarters within Bunchurch for the time being. I can't afford to keep up with rent on the house on my own," you explained and linked the chains perfectly together, just as you were trained to do. You then went to stand beside him as he admired a piece of artwork, just above the fireplace and resting on the mantle. Your mother would always stare at it when she was home. It was like a piece of resistance in her eyes.

When Lockwood tuned to face you, his scent, unburdened by the rain, washed over you. He smelled strongly of freshly clipped lavender and clean laundry. There was also a faint trace of burnt toast and magnesium. He smiled down at you.

"Do you have a safe place to go while I do my business here? Or would you feel better if you supervised?" He said, still smiling and making your heart beat a little faster.

"My room should be safe," you said to him. "As long as that iron tape from Rotwell's holds up."

He laughed at your answer. "One of my associates has a habit of buying that junk too. He rambles all the time about all of that Rotwell nonsense. Can you believe it?"

You smiled back up at him and blushed.

"You have to give them credit. A lot of the stuff they sell is junk, but it can be useful some of the time."

"Oh, spare me," he openly joked with you. "George will definitely get a laugh at that. He went on this huge rant just the other night about the stupid ghost detector stick he bought with his entire paycheck."

You continued with the small banter and kept him company until the old grandfather clock that sat in the corner struck twelve. Lockwood had been sharing jammy dodgers with you that he had tucked in his coat pocket, when the metallic twang rung and had the two of you in a spellbound trance.

Lockwood looked at the clock, checked his watch for the accuracy, and then unclipped the thermometer from his belt. The black box read 17.2 degrees Celsius. He let out a small laugh, chuffed with himself.

"I suppose you best be heading to your iron tape fortress rather quickly," he said while showing you the reading. "It was twenty-four degrees in here about 10 minutes ago."

With that, you both stood. He went to his iron circle and dug in his bag for a moment. When he stood back up, he turned to you.

"I'm sure you have a million and one of these stashed somewhere, but just in case you can't reach one of yours, take one of mine," he grinned and placed a salt bomb in your hands. "It'll give me some peace of mind when you go upstairs."

You smiled down at the thing in your clutches, then nodded, grinning just as big as he was.

"Don't let her bully you," you teased him, tucking the salt bomb in your pants pocket. "She was always kind of mean to strangers."

Lockwood shrugged and kept smiling. He waved you off and watched you disappear upstairs.

4.

You couldn't sleep. You kept thinking about the boy downstairs, doing God knows what in your living room. He was probably sitting in his little protected circle and eating another biscuit. You smiled at the very prospect.

You sat in bed, one hand resting over the salt bomb still sitting snuggly in your pocket, while the other held open a book, but your eyes didn't bother reading anything. Your ears were too busy listening, which took up most of your brain power.

The grandfather clock would echo up the stairs and to your bedroom. One passed, then two, and before you knew it, it was two forty-five. Fifteen minutes before things began to happen.

Each night, at precisely three in the morning, a horrible scream would rock the house. You gave these details to the company working downstairs over the phone. You never dared to explore more, always too terrified of dying at the hands of your mother's spirit to try. Your thumb twitched over the salt bomb again.

You stared at the pages of your book until the clock struck three, and the seconds seemed to slow. Like clockwork, the scream came rippling through the house. It was louder this time. Loud enough, it made you cover your ears.

Five seconds after came the loud BOOM of a magnesium flare and then the CRACK of a salt bomb. Another terrible shriek tore the house asunder and had you putting your house shoes on. You glanced at the clock.

It read 3:06. Another bomb went off, and you heard furniture start to crash and rumble. You gripped the salt bomb in your pocket and then rushed to your closet. The thought that scared you more than facing your undead mother was the thought of another agent, dealing with a dangerous type two ghost and thinking they could do it alone.

You found your grade three rapier. It was shorter than the one you used now, but that one was downstairs by the door, and you couldn't possibly go for it now.

You threw a robe over yourself and threw open your door. The temperature change was horrendous. Your room was a comfortable and warm temperature, but as soon as you stepped beyond the door, you could see your breath perpetrating in the air. Thin layers of ice grew on the walls and cracked at the crumbling wallpaper. Another terrible shriek pierced the air, but it wasn't feminine. It was Lockwood.

You rushed down the stairs and turned to see the scene before you. The walls were burned from salt, magnesium, and ectoplasm. Lockwood had been knocked on his back, and his coat was steaming from the ectoplasm burns. The iron chain had been snapped in two. His rapier was far across the room, stuck in the wall like a decorative art piece. Above him was your mother. Her apparition was blue and terrifying. You could hardly look at her without wanting to turn away and sob. There was still a bullet hole in the center of her apparition's forehead. Tentacles of ectoplasm lashed out at Lockwood as he laid on the floor, and he was trying his best to dodge each one. He was out of flares and out of time.

That was, until you rushed to his aid.

You unclipped the salt bomb and threw it. It exploded and blinded both you and Lockwood. Your mother screeched and disappeared briefly, but she was quick to start reforming. You ran to Lockwood and helped him stand up by his shoulders. His eyes were wide and wild and he loomed at you with his mouth agape. You stared back, just breathing hard and speechless. Your heart was going a mile a minute. His eyes suddenly flicked away from you. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to the side quickly. He slammed his back against the wall and kept you tight to his chest. You realized he had just pulled you out of the way from another lash from an ectoplasm tentacle.

"I thought you wanted to stay with your iron tape fortress!" He panted, smiling at you as he let you go.

"I couldn't let you deal with her alone," you said back, then turned to face the bigger problem in the room. Your mother had reformed herself, right in front of the chimney. She screamed again, and it rattled your brain inside your head. You screamed back and threw your rapier.

The point of the blade struck her blue chest. Her apparition disappeared as the blade went entirely through her and landed in her favorite painting on the mantle, like a dart in a board. You watched the blade shake and then still. Steam bellowed from it.

"The fireplace," Lockwood muttered and he came to stand beside you. "The source has got to be in the fireplace."

You nodded in agreement.

Lockwood approached his dufflebag quickly and retrieved a silver net. He pulled his rapier from the wall and looked to you.

"You go up there, and I'll watch for her. Okay?"

He gave the silver net to you. It wasn't an option anymore. You both cautiously approached the fireplace, and another screech rang from the house and shook the ice-chipped, ectoplasm stained walls.

"Not getting any younger here, Bunchurch," he said cooly, keeping his rapier steadily pointed while his eyes flickered all over the room, carefully watching.

You wasted no more time, climbing into the fireplace with no light. You relied on your hands, feeling the bricks and only finding thick grime and soot.

"Lockwood!" You called. "I'm not getting anything! I don't think it's here!"

"I think it is," Lockwood said, now sounding tense. "Because your mom's back, and if you thought getting a spanking with a wooden spoon was bad, you're definitely going to hate what she's about to do here in about ten seconds or so."

You searched all the more frantically, and you stretched up on your tippy-toes. Your fingers dived into a mesh of spiderwebs suddenly, and it took all of your willpower not to pull your hands away and wretch with disgust. You dug deeper, wincing as you heard the visitor scream again. Your hands then felt something wooden lodged between a couple of bricks. With no hesitation left, you grabbed it and yanked it down. You wrapped it in the silver net, and as soon as you did, all was silent. You could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner and Lockwood's loud panting.

5.

You crawled out of the fireplace, and the first thing you saw was Lockwood's smiling face. He put both of his hands on your shoulders and beamed so brightly at you.

"Well done, Bunchurch!"

You began to beam, too.

He took the silver net from you and set it somewhere safe, where it wouldn't be disturbed.

"Did you see what it was?" He asked you and took a seat on the floor. The couches were still thawing from the bitter cold and the walls now dripped from melting ice.

"No," you sighed. "A box, I think."

He hummed. You sat on the floor with him, next to him. He produced a bar of chocolate from his now near-empty duffle bag. He split it with you, and you made a new kettle of tea in the kitchen, where you both soon moved to sit more comfortably.

"Hang on a second," he suddenly mumbled to you. "You've got soot all over your face. Let me get it for you."

He wet a napkin and then approached you. The smell of lavender was overwhelmed by the magnesium, but still there all the same. He wiped at your cheeks and forehead with the wet napkin and got as much grime as he could while the water in the kettle started to boil. He was so gentle with you, it made you blush profusely, and his eyes had a new gleam to them that you hadn't seen when he first stepped foot into your house.

"If you want," he spoke softly while using his other hand to tilt your chin up more, "I could stay with you until dawn and we can see what the source was in the morning, when it's safe."

You thought about it for quite some time, then shook your head.

"No... I don't think I really want to know what it is," you sighed and looked up at him. He had paused with dabbing the napkin and now just mindlessly rubbed your chin with his gentle thumb. "I've spent the past two weeks trying to heal after her death. I think seeing what it is will put me back quite a bit."

Lockwood stood there for some time, just gazing at you while you spoke. He dropped his hands and nodded, finally, after some time of thought.

"As you wish, Bunchurch. I'll take it to the furnaces first thing," he smiled at you, and you smiled back. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you placed your hand on top of his, in return. You saw the pink rise to his pale cheeks, and he gave you the faintest hint of a laugh. He stayed with you for some tea and a light, congratulatory breakfast. Not long after that, he was packing his things and getting ready to leave.

6.

"You know," he spoke softly as you walked him to the door. "You saved my life tonight. You'd be surprised at how many people there are in this world who wouldn't do the same."

You smiled at him.

"From one agent to another," you said with sincere warmth in your tone. He smiled back at you.

Dawn was just beginning to peak in through the window above your front door. He turned to face you just as you reached for the handle.

He stuck his hand in his coat pocket and brought out a small business card. Scrawled on it was the same name and number you had gotten from the yellow pages.

"What is this?" You murmured, confused. It took you a moment to realize that the number on the card was different in the slightest of ways.

"It's my personal phone number. We have two phones. One for business and one for other things. Give us a ring sometime, using that number," he spoke and pointed to the card. "You're wasting your potential at Bunchurch, you know. The way you acted tonight more than proved you deserve to work on the field rather than some dusty library. Lockwood & Company will always have room for more people like you." He cupped your hand, the one holding the business card, and curled your fingers around it for you so you could hold on tight to it. His hands were warm and comforting around yours. His warm, brown eyes never left you. "Call me, and I will take care of you. I promise."

It seemed like only a few heartbeats before he was gone. You watched from one of your living room windows as he went to the corner of your road and hailed a cab. You sat and watched his cab drive away, still clutching the card, just knowing from the feeling you got, you'd be leaving your job at Bunchurch very soon.

[transmasczeroone]

On coming out as trans:

I live in a very middle-class, Christian, conservative area, so I was bracing myself for the worst when I decided to come out publically to my co-workers and customers. (I work in a restaurant/bar that attracts a particular demographic: Imagine middle-aged ladies coming to brunch, older men coming for a pint after work, families bringing their children and dogs, most of them white, wealthy, and cishet. For context, I'm also 5 ft 4, and pre-everything, with a gender neutral name that leans towards the girly side, at least in my country.)

The first co-worker I came out to was a low-level supervisor, a gay cis guy in his 20s. He was a bit confused at first, had to ask a lot of questions to understand exactly what was changing, but ever since then he has been unconditionally supportive. He volunteered to tell the other managers that I'm trans, so I didn't need to go through the stress of that conversation multiple times.

The rest of the managers/supervisors (all cishet) at some point or another said that I can go to them if customers or other staff bother me (which hasn't happened at all), and all get my pronouns right most of the time, and are quick to correct themselves when they don't. They even go out of their way to use affirming language - one of my co-workers realised one day that that were no women on shift at the time, turned to me and said something about it being a boys' club and included me in that category. They celebrate my small wins, and the big ones, everything from "nice haircut!" to "ohmygod you're going on testosterone soon?? I'm so happy for you!!"

One of the managers - a cishet woman in her 50s, and the one I expected to have the worst reaction - asked a lot of questions to better understand me and offered to introduce me to her friend, who is also a trans man. This is a big deal to me, because I don't know any other trans men in my area. According to my co-workers, she's better at getting my pronouns right than almost anyone else.

Another cishet guy I work with is in his 60s had to ask what my he/him badge meant when he first saw it, and now he always makes a point of getting my pronouns right, especially in front of other people who she/her me based on my appearance or who need a reminder.

The male customers I serve on the bar tend to ask what the badge means (although some prefer to stare at it in confusion and not comment at all). My usual response is, "It's to remind people that I'm not a girl, since a lot of people think I am," which omits a huge chunk of the truth, but isn't a lie. I've never had a bad response, though.

When I explain, they often say, "Wow, I never would have guessed you were a man" (ouch, dysphoria) and apologise genuinely and quite profusely for calling me "she" or "sweetheart" or whatever earlier in the interaction. They're eager to assure me that they meant no disrespect. Some even notice the badge and apologise without having to ask what it means. Nobody contradicts me, nobody is sarcastic or thinks I'm joking, and nobody has ever said anything transphobic to me or asked invasive questions. Some get confused and sort of gloss over my explanation, but nobody has been hateful. Sometimes they seem to accept me as a cis guy, other times they're clearly aware that I'm trans, but it doesn't affect their response either way.

The worst thing I've encountered is customers who see the he/him badge, blatantly ignore it, and then misgender me throughout the interaction. Not ideal, of course, but far better than what I was expecting.

This entire experience has reminded me of a time I read in a comment somewhere that transphobes are a very vocal minority, that transphobia feels like it's ramping up recently because transphobes know they're losing the war and are screaming in a desperate attempt to be taken seriously. They're scared that all their fearmongering and hatred is, in fact, getting them nowhere. Maybe there's some truth to that.

As I said before, I live in a conservative, middle-class area, and there are no queer bars, bookshops, etc. for miles and miles, but there are at least 3 churches within a 15 minute walk of my house. And in the 5 months I've been out publically, the worst transphobia I've faced from a co-worker or stranger is just them not using my pronouns until corrected.

I'm not saying don't be careful when you come out. I'm not saying that things always go well. Sometimes they go awfully, and I've had my own bad experiences.

What I am saying is that my faith in cis people has been restored to quite an astonishing degree, that sometimes people can surprise you in wonderful ways, that there are people out there willing to accept and respect us, and sometimes you find them where you least expect them.

[yourmomxx]

the birthmark on his cheek

JJ Maybank x male!reader

Summary: One afternoon, you have an interesting encounter while sitting in detention.

Warnings: not really anything, reader is kinda shy I guess?

Word Count: 2.3k

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Anyone who would hear you say the following words out loud, would probably automatically stamp you as an absolute weirdo. But it was true: you liked detention.

Well now, not exactly detention detention. That’s something you never really had to do. But you liked seating yourself into the half-empty classrooms after school ended, placing your laptop on the table and editing the pictures you took throughout the day, until you felt they were useable for the yearbook.

Doing this in school other than at home was somehow more comfortable to you, and it gave you the feeling of being amongst people, without having to actually actively talk to them.

Today was one of those days again. You entered the classroom and took your usual seat in the second to last row, and slowly began unpacking your stuff.

On the teacher’s desk, right in front of the chalkboard, sat Mr Ramos - English teacher and unwilling supervisor of 5pm detention.

He didn’t even look up when you came into the room, most teachers were used to your - quite unneeded - presence by now.

In your opinion Mr Ramos was a nice guy, but sometimes also seemed like the type of person to fantasize about killing his wife and starting a new life somewhere in the south of Europe.

Which was a very specific analysis.

When the clock showed 5pm sharp, Mr Ramos got up and took his attendance list and a pen with a sigh.

At this point, you were already extremely focused on the picture that was shown on your laptop, where you had caught Mitchell Gates mid-air, tossing a ball into the basket, scoring the last-minute winning point for your Highschool’s basketball team.

You vaguely noticed someone coming into the room and taking the seat directly next to you, though you couldn’t really be bothered to look up and check who it was.

You noticed that the classroom was pretty empty for a Wednesday, except for you, Harvey Davenport, and a girl with brown, curly hair and reading glasses. You didn’t know her name. She was one of those people everyone saw everywhere but no one ever really knew.

Maria. Or Martha. Something along those lines.

“Cooke, Amara,” Mr Ramos started listing up the attendee’s names. The girl with the glasses raised her hand.

Oh.

A heavy sigh then came from the teacher, as his eyes fell on the next name written on the list. He suddenly looked very worn out. “Maybank, JJ,” he read.

The person in next to you raised their hand. You felt your heart beating in your throat.

“Present, Sir,” JJ said, smiling cheerfully. As if he wasn’t sitting in detention right now.

Ramos ticked off his name and JJ lowered his arm again.

You managed to spare a side-glance at him sitting on your left. He was almost directly next to the window. His hair was caught under a cap which he was wearing — and he was fidgeting with a pen in his hand.

He was wearing a white tank top that showed off his flexing arm muscles every time he moved and seemed to slightly move his head to a music beat that was playing in his mind.

Quickly, you looked back at your computer screen again so he could not catch you staring at him, and slowly tapped the keyboard to get some work done.

Every once in a while you would let your eyes gaze over to JJ next to you, and every time you were just as fast to focus back on your pictures again.

But this time, when you angled your neck to steal another glance at him, you could feel your heart beat faster once more and the blood rushing into your ears.

Outside of the window that JJ was sitting next to, the sun was slowly setting above the Outer Banks, and the vanishing light threw an orange shade into the classroom.

JJ was sitting with his head laid back and closed eyes. His relaxed face as well as his hair, that had finally been released from under his hat, were angled just right for the light to catch them, and illuminated in smooth gold.

His arms were crossed in front of his torso and he had slumped further into his seat than before. Through the motion, somehow, his shirt must have risen up and you caught yourself staring at the exposed skin of his hipbone.

Carefully, you reached next to you on the table where your camera was placed, and picked up the expensive object to lift it to your eye.

You steadied and lowered your breathing, as if every move too loud or too fast, could wake the boy in front of your lens up and destroy this angelic moment of his relaxation and beauty.

You cautiously focused the lens and when you breathed out the breath of concentration you had been holding, you pressed on the shutter button.

The sound of the picture being taken seemed like thunder in your ears, but when you hurriedly put the camera down and sorted yourself to pretend nothing ever happened, you realized that JJ hadn’t moved a muscle.

You let out relieved sigh and connected the camera to your laptop with an USB cable.

When the picture finally loaded and showed up on your screen, your cheeks heated up and a small smile was forming on your lips.

Just like the model, the picture looked absolutely beautiful, and would look even better when you were finished with editing it.

Taking a closer look, you spotted a little brown dot on JJ’s jawline, just a bit under his ear. You frowned and looked at his real sleeping form, not even caring about being detected right now, and squinted to try and get a better look.

And indeed, on his jawline - an incredibly sharp jawline that was, by the way - he had a small birthmark, just a bit under his ear.

Satisfied, you turned back to your laptop again, and started working on JJ’s picture, your hands still shaking a bit from anxiety.

—

“Hey.”

You could hear a tapping noise. Or scratching. Or both.

“Hey.”

Again.

Slowly, you gazed over the display of your laptop into the mischievously glistening, blue eyes of JJ Maybank.

Sweet Lord.

You looked to the now empty seat at your left, then at JJ again, who was turned around, each leg on one side of the chair and his arms crossed on the backrest.

“Hey,” you managed to get out, closing the laptop just a little bit as to not seem impolite. And to get a better look at him.

“You’re the photographer guy, right?” He asked, still smirking and twirling the toothpick in his mouth around with his tongue while he spoke.

“I, uhm … yeah,” you answered. JJ hummed and focused his attention to the camera lying on the desk where you had placed it next to your computer after you had taken his picture.

Your eyes were flickering across the room, but no one seemed to mind or care what was happening between you and the blonde boy.

JJ reached for the black camera, and you hastily grabbed it out of his hands.

“Sorry but that’s like … really expensive,” you muttered when you carefully put the camera back to where it was before.

JJ raised his hands apologetically. “My bad.”

“So, you like taking pictures?” He was smirking again, just like before, and turning the damned toothpick again, just like before. And your heart was beating and skipping and doing god knows what things that it shouldn’t do, just like before.

“W-what?”

“You like taking pictures?” He leaned closer, maintaining eye contact, and your breath hitched in your throat. “Of me?”

You felt like dying. Right here and there. JJ sat back again, grin even wider than before and blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“It’s just for, uhm … it’s just for yearbook,” you tried to explain. Jesus, hopefully he didn’t think you were some kind of stalking weirdo.

“I’m not some stalking weirdo who follows girls home and likes to take pictures of them naked or something,” you quickly added, but JJ just waved his hand.

“Calm down, man, didn’t even think of it like that. You’re not really a girl’s guy, are you?”

Whatdidhesay?

You sat there petrified, staring at him with wide eyes, dumbfounded, and JJ couldn’t help but laugh at that.

God, you were adorable.

God, was the sound of his laugh beautiful.

“Alright alright,” JJ finally said, still slightly out of breath from his laughter. He repositioned himself in his chair.

Your eyes flickered to the veins on his hand and the leather bracelets in his wrist. This boy was so attractive, it was eating you from the inside out.

“Can I see them?” JJ asked, startling you another time. You raised your eyebrows.

“You wanna see … my pictures?”

JJ shrugged. “If you think it’s worth photographing me then I would like to see the end result.” He started smirking again. “Unless there is footage on that computer you don’t want me to see?”

You felt your ears heat up and quickly shook your head, avoiding eye contact with him. You tried turning the display in his direction, but stopped mid movement.

“I, uhm …” you cleared your throat, “Maybe you should come over to my side. You’ll … see better then.”

Much to your surprise, JJ took his chair and sat down next to you without any comment.

You felt your entire body heat up at the realization of how close he was, and unsuccessfully attempted to calm your shaky hands when you operated the keyboard to show him the pictures.

Most were already well colored and edited, apart from a few exceptions which you still weren’t sure of if you wanted them printed anyways.

When you reached the picture of JJ half asleep in the chair with the light of the setting sun on his skin, you held your breath and gulped, unsure of how he would react.

Next to you, JJ remained silent for a bit. To you, it felt like three times of eternity. It was long enough to let an unsettling feeling sink in your stomach.

Finally, he spoke up. “This is …,” he breathed out, “wow. I mean -” He put his finger on the screen but pulled it away just as quickly when he realized that you probably didn’t like it when he did that.

Truth is, you hadn’t even properly realized it, and it would have been alright anyways because it was JJ Maybank after all.

“I mean, the camera quality, the lighting. I look so -” He paused. “I look so beautiful.” He whispered.

JJ looked at you with a soft expression. “I think this is the best photo someone has ever taken of me,” he admitted.

You felt your heart swell at the praise and your lips curled up in a smile. “Thank you,” you said.

“If you want to, I could print it out for you,” you offered. “Then you can, I don’t know, put it up or something.” You trailed off and shrugged. Suddenly your fingers were incredibly interesting.

You missed JJ’s fond smile as he first looked at the picture, then back to you again. “Yes, that’d be great. Thank you.”

“Really?” You almost shrieked. “I mean …” you cleared your throat. “Sure, sure. I’ll just…”

Mumbling to yourself, you pulled out a pen and wrote the words ‘JJ picture’ on the back of your hand. The blond boy followed your movements with his eyes.

You held up your hand for him to read. “See? Now I won’t forget.”

JJ chuckled and shook his head. “You’re cute, photographer guy.”

Your heart did that thing again. That stupid thing where it started beating faster and made your brain short circuit.

“Maybank, Y/L/N!” Mr Ramos’ voice suddenly rang through the classroom. All the other students also turned their heads to look at the two of you.

The teacher raised his pencil in a warning. “If you can’t stop distracting the students that are required to be here, Y/L/N, then I will have to ask you to leave in the future.”

Your eyes widened and you started stammering an apology when suddenly, JJ came to your aid.

“Understood, chief,” he said and saluted Mr Ramos. When the teacher turned away and everybody started minding their own business again, he added, now looking at you: “Seriously, stop distracting me, Y/L/N.”

You didn’t know if it was the way he emphasized your last name, or what he said entirely, but you felt the adrenaline pumping under your skin and a sudden need to scream. But in the good way, if that made sense somehow.

You didn’t notice how JJ moved his chair next to you, and when you came to your senses again he was already sitting on the table next to you again, twirling a pen in his hand and whipping his head to a song no one could hear, just as nothing had happened.

You felt the heavy feeling in your stomach again and just as you wanted to return back to your work too, the boy turned his head and threw a wink at you.

You smiled, and he smiled back, and you light-heartedly continued correcting your photographs.

—

When you laid in bed that night, you were thinking of tousled, golden hair in the setting evening sun, and toned arm muscles reaching out of a tank top, and a small birthmark right under an ear on a jawline.

That night, you fell asleep thinking of JJ Maybank.

[thebiggerbear]

Only Ever Holding Onto You - One - Here We Go Again

A/N: Hey all! I just want to let you know up front that this chapter is HUGE. When writing, I go more by what I feel needs to be in the chapter for setups and flow than I do the length. It's something I'm still working on as a writer so I apologize. The following chapters should not be nearly as long.

I began writing this back in July and at that time, I hadn't watched the rest of the 3rd season of Big Sky so I did a lot of guesswork based on gifs, clips, and posts I had seen on here. So that's why some things might not line up to the show, sorry about that. Also, I completely made up the name of the pharmaceutical company.

This story actually was the gateway to Ghosts so there might be some similar threads you might notice. ;) I hope you like it!

And a huge thank you to my beta Em! You rock, girl!

Warnings: mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of animal injuries seen by Reader, mentions of kidnapping of minor

Word Count: 13,543

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @rieleatiel

Series Masterlist

“I didn’t do anything wrong!”

You rolled your eyes and made a left onto Washington. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what everyone who breaks into a chem lab says.”

“It’s true,” the man currently sitting handcuffed in your backseat insisted. “It’s the corporation that’s doing something wrong. They’re benefitting from those animals’ pain.”

“Doesn’t give you the right to enter the premises illegally,” you pointed out.

“What they’re doing is illegal,” he scoffed.

You couldn’t exactly argue with that one. When the call came in for a 10-62 and it was advised that the prowler was armed and dangerous, you had immediately rushed to the scene, beaten there by two officers from Helena PD and one deputy from your department. The perp had already been secured and in handcuffs, proclaiming loudly over and over that he was innocent as were the animals he had been trying to set free. Deputy Davis informed you that the only weapon that had been found on the man was a pair of bolt cutters, which had barely made a dent in the cages’ padlocks, never mind were they ever a real threat to anyone on the premises.

After contacting the higher-ups of her employer, an onsite supervisor insisted the company wanted to press any and all charges, maintaining that the animals in their possession had been obtained legally and the accusations against them were baseless. One glance past the woman’s shoulder at the cages of rabbits and cats being wheeled into another area showed that perhaps the man’s claims weren’t as baseless as she said they were. You had to keep yourself from hauling her down to the station on some trumped up charge once you noticed one cat in particular that had half of its fur missing and its side was littered with obvious injection sites. One rabbit even had sutures where an eye should be. 

Unfortunately, you had a job to do and the law needed to be upheld. You insisted on taking the perp, one Martin Webb, into the station yourself. Since Davis had arrived on scene first, Helena PD couldn’t say a peep. That was one thing that hadn’t changed with your transfer here: the good ol’ jurisdiction issue between departments. Although, up in these parts, the Lewis and Clark County Sheriff’s Department and Helena PD did play nicer together than most other places you’d been. As Webb continued to ramble on in the back of your car, you were thankful for that little fact.

When he mentioned for the fifth time that he was doing the right thing, your phone began to ring. One quick glance at the screen showed that it was Deputy Poppernak. Without saying a word, you picked up the call. “What’s shaking, Pepper Snaps?” 

You smirked when you heard the slight huff he let out when you called him the cute little nickname you had come up for him. He knew you did it to tease him good-naturedly but it still exasperated him at times. Truth be told, you had a fondness for the guy even though he did prove to be a bit of a suck-up when you first stepped into the station about six months back. Still he had always been welcoming towards you, took your quirks in stride, and he was a decent cop. That put him under the good list in your book.

“Hey, Y/N. The boss asked for me to give you a call and see if you were on your way back to the station.”

Your eyes practically rolled out of your head. Apparently, the sheriff had forgotten how phones worked along with the knowledge that you were more than capable of doing your job. If Poppernak got exasperated with you at times, your patience could be worn thin by one Beau Arlen on a semi-often basis, and that hadn’t changed with both of you relocating to Big Sky Country.

“Pops, correct me if I’m wrong, but when I radioed in to Madge that I was transporting a suspect back to the station, did I say it in Portuguese? French maybe? Japanese? Or in Gaelic perhaps?” You quipped.

“Uh, no. No, of course not,” Poppernak let out in a nervous chuckle. “It’s just, uh…sorry, one second.” You could hear his muffled voice speaking to someone; it was obvious he had covered the mouthpiece with his hand. You nearly rolled your eyes again, knowing exactly who he was speaking to, and instead chose to glance in your rearview to check on the man in the back. He had still been talking when you picked up the call but he must have gotten the hint when the deputy’s voice filled the car. Now, he sat quietly, staring straight ahead. 

“Okay, sorry about that. Madge was asking me—”

You’d had enough, especially when you heard him using a quieter tone than before. “Cut the crap, I know very well who was asking you something. What does he want and why is he not calling me to ask me himself?”

He laughed nervously again. “Uh, well, he was just—I mean I was just wondering, do you mind stopping by The 1889 and grabbing the usual order on your way in?”

Your jaw tensed. You had a sneaking suspicion of the reason why your boss wasn’t calling you directly and instead was asking his employee to do his dirty work, and it infuriated you.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Poppernak added meekly.

You forced yourself to remember that he wasn’t the one who your ire should be aimed at. You’d get to that soon enough after you booked your suspect down at the station. You made another quick turn to head in the direction of the coffee shop. “Call the order in. I’ll be there in fifteen to pick it up and they better run it out to me or no dice. In case anyone at that station is too thick-headed to remember, I’m currently transporting a suspect.”

You heard a relieved breath come down the line. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re the—” 

You ended the call before the deputy could finish speaking. Pops knew you weren’t mad at him and knowing him, he’d get right on placing the order at the coffee house you all frequented so the order would be ready in the timeframe you’d given him. 

“Amazing. Animals are being cruelly treated in your own backyard and all you cops can worry about is your coffee order. ‘To protect and serve’...yeah right.”

You shot Webb a glare in your rearview mirror. “You have the right to remain silent, you know. Wouldn’t hurt to exercise it every now and then. Like right now.”

“How can I be silent? Do you have any idea what they’re doing to those animals? Do you have any idea how much pain they’re in? God, you people are heartless!”

“Uh huh.” You brought the car to a stop at a traffic light and took a deep breath. Losing your temper on Webb or Pops or anyone at the station would not help anything, but damn did Beau get on your nerves sometimes with his desire to placate and diffuse things. Most of the time, it was something you heavily respected about him; it was a great quality for a leader to have. At the same time, some people needed to be stood up to, put in their place, and knocked down a few pegs — and that is where you and Beau never saw eye-to-eye. It drove you crazy but you told yourself you would play the long game on this one. Beau knew how you felt. You two had argued about it enough times when it was just you two — but he refused to budge an inch. He believed time would resolve things. Six months was plenty of time in your mind but apparently, he didn’t share that sentiment. So, you did as you always had: you had his back and you followed his lead. It didn’t mean you had to like it sometimes, though. Especially not when—no, you would put it out of your mind for now.

“I’m serious, you saw the animals yourself. Do you really think they’re well cared for like they said? If you only knew the half of it!”

Webb’s rantings broke you out of your reverie. You thought over what he said, remembered the cat with the missing fur, the rabbit with the missing eye, and bit your lip in contemplation. When the light turned green, your mind was made up. “I’m just doing my job, Mr. Webb. And that job doesn’t include looking into the history of this company or what they do with their animals when it comes to testing.”

The man scoffed and you knew your words had been chosen well. “Of course not. Why would you care? I suppose you don’t care that the animals are kept in cages night and day. Not only do they pump chemicals into them consistently but they cause them pain purposely to see if their products work. I guess you also don’t care that this is a common practice for this company, or that they purposely pick up strays from surrounding neighborhoods and have even broken into people’s properties to steal their pets when the shelters and pet stores start to get suspicious! And you’re charging me with breaking and entering? What about them? And I bet you don’t care that they purposely starve these animals for certain experiments and that’s not even…”

You made your way to The 1889, keeping your gaze ahead of you as you maneuvered down the streets, all the while quietly listening and at certain points, trying to remember why you’d chosen to become a cop when it seemed like the odds always remained against you and innocents, humans and animals alike, continued to get hurt by every semblance of heartless assholes on a daily basis.

Deputy Davis, who had beaten you back to the station and waited for you to arrive, led Webb into the station as you followed behind with a tray of coffees and a paper bag full of food. 

Pops immediately hurried over to meet you, a huge grin on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. You really are the best.”

You handed him both the tray and bag, giving him a nod. 

Webb watched the exchange carefully before yelling out, “Yeah, so glad you can sit and enjoy your coffee and donuts while innocent animals are suffering!” The busy hum in the station dimmed slightly as everyone turned to look, but then it resumed when they saw the man responsible for the noisy interruption was in handcuffs.

“I’ll book him,” the deputy next to you insisted.

“Thanks, Davis.” You smiled slightly at the younger man. “I’ll get on the paperwork.”

“Let’s go.” Davis pushed Webb in front of him who kept yelling as he was being moved away.

 You and Pops watched them disappear around the corner and then turned back to one another. “So, where is he?”

Pops’ amiable smile dropped completely and he quickly glanced in the direction of the sheriff’s office. Bingo. “Uh, I think he’s interrogating a suspect right now…”

“Right.” You then moved past him and proceeded right to the location that Pops unintentionally gave away before outright lying to you. The door was shut but that didn’t deter you. Without knocking, you opened the door and barged right in.

Sure enough, there was Beau, sitting in his chair with the infamous Jenny Hoyt perched on the desk to his left, barely a foot of space between them. Of course. Was there ever a moment in the day the undersheriff wasn’t trying to get into the sheriff’s pants? 

The blonde glared at your intrusion and you folded your arms across your chest. You offered a meaningful look to Beau, who at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Did you always storm into your boss’ office without knocking like this back in Houston or is it only something you do here?” Hoyt snapped.

“Hoyt,” Beau warned.

Ignoring her sniping and ignoring her presence altogether — you leveled your eyes on Beau alone. “We need to talk.”

Beau glanced between you and his undersheriff, looking uncertain, before he gave a simple nod. “Give us the room for a minute,” he directed to the woman next to him. The corner of your lips lifted in the beginning of a smirk; wise choice on his part.

Hoyt transferred her glare to him but got to her feet all the same. She nearly stomped her way out the door, scowling at you the entire time. You stared her down, all too happy to close the door once she vacated the threshold. You seriously could not wait for that woman to take some vacation time; it’d be like your own vacation kicking in at the same time.

You turned around to find Beau watching you, exhaustion showing in the lines of his face a little more prominently than they had a moment ago. “Y/N, I—”

Holding up a hand, you interrupted him before he could plead with you for peace or make excuses like he had so many times before. “Aside from me thinking that it’s downright pathetic that you can’t even make a simple phone call to ask me to pick you up one of your favorite sandwiches because she’s within hearing distance, I have a bigger issue to discuss.”

Beau sat back in his chair, considering you for a moment. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

You moved closer and took a seat. “The man I just brought in, Martin Webb, the one who’s being booked on a B&E charge from Avuna Pharmaceuticals? Turns out he was not armed like had been initially reported to emergency dispatch. He had a pair of bolt cutters on him that didn’t even work and he was not posing a threat to anybody. But the Avuna reps are insisting he was.”

“Who was first on scene?”

“Davis.”

“Any footage or eyewitness accounts that prove this guy threatened anyone before Davis got there?”

“Eyewitness accounts from paid employees and when we asked for footage after noticing cameras placed all around the lab, we were told that their legal counsel advised that unless we had a warrant, we were wasting our time and suggested we should be focusing on the arrest of the assailant in our custody.”

Beau snorted. “Not suspicious at all and damn ballsy.”

You couldn’t help but shrug. “Big corporation, big money. They’ll do whatever it takes to protect it all.”

He nodded in agreement. “Good point. Alright, let’s let the DA take it from here. For now, just book him and we’ll let the courts battle it out on what charges actually stick.”

You tilted your head at him expectantly. 

“And,” he sighed. “I take it you already knew I’d say that and that’s not why you wanted to discuss it.”

“You know me so well,” you teased, giving him a smirk and sitting on the desk next to him on his right, keeping a polite distance between you. “Something doesn’t smell right with this case. If their response to our request to view their footage wasn’t enough of a red flag, then the fact that they’re looking to throw the book at this guy is. I ran him through the system. His record is relatively clean; he’s an activist, not an ecological terrorist.” You bit your lip. “I saw the animals while they were transporting them,” you said in a quieter tone. “I saw some things that... I think this guy, while a little misguided, is actually on the right track. Something’s off with this whole thing.”

Beau leaned over to place a hand over yours. “Darlin’, I know where you’re going with this and while it pains me to say it, I have to. It’s not our job. You said it yourself: big corporation, big money. This is for the courts. We can’t get involved.” You dropped your gaze to the floor and let out a disappointed breath. You knew as much, had said as much to Webb on the ride over, but it felt wrong for that to be the actual reality. 

You felt Beau brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in tender strokes. It was his way of reassuring you and apologizing at the same time. You couldn’t help but give him a thin-lipped smile. You knew he would do something if he could, but he was right. Unless there was evidence to Webb’s claims of the company illegally obtaining those animals, this was not for you or for the department to get involved in. On the off-chance there was proof, that evidence would need to be transferred to the right agency who handled such cases. Your hands were tied and there was nothing you could do from your position, that fact wouldn’t help you sleep better at night or help you forget what you had seen.

“That being said, I will talk to the DA and see what he can do about the charges. I can’t promise anything but I’ll try,” Beau finished, after seeing your reaction.

You turned your hand over, grabbing onto his, and whispered, “Thank you.”

He returned your smile and squeezed your hand before gently letting go. “And thank you for picking up the order earlier. And for not letting Hoyt bait you into an argument.”

Rolling your eyes and getting to your feet, you made your way to the bulletin board on the far wall to study its contents. “Sometimes I wonder why you even asked me to come here.”

You heard a heavy sigh behind you but you didn’t turn around to look. “You know why I asked you to join me here, Y/N. I need someone who has my back.”

“You have plenty of people here who have your back.” You pulled the paper you were looking for off the board and folded it up. “Especially her. She’d have your back, front, and center if she had anything to say about it.” Slipping the paper into the back pocket of your jeans, you glanced back at Beau to find him glaring in your direction. “Am I wrong?” You challenged.

“I really wish you two would try to get along.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “I’m not the one who throws a temper tantrum every time I walk into a room. That would be the woman whose insufferable ass has been glued to yours for the past six months.”

Beau shook his head. “Why do I even try?”

“Why do you?” You agreed. “And why do you defend her at every given turn when you know she’s the one that has a chip the size of Texas on her shoulder?”

“I told you, she’s been through a lot. With her mom and everything…” Beau waved a hand to indicate there might be more to it than you knew. You didn’t think there was; you had heard about it from practically everyone around here, but you also knew Beau was a good man with a big heart. So while you didn’t excuse away the blatant hostility Hoyt had shown you from the moment you arrived, you knew that your best friend tried to be understanding and his patience was longer than the length of the building you were currently in.

“Right,” you muttered. When you first showed up here, Beau told you everything that went down in the amount of time it took you to be able to secure your transfer. You knew all about Jenny Hoyt, her mom, Cassie Dewell, their interesting history, Denise, Sunny, Buck, and everything that happened with Emily and Carla. As a matter of fact, as soon as Beau called you in a panic over Emily’s being taken, you had told your boss down in Houston, Burke Ellis, that you were done waiting for him to stop dragging his feet and you were out on the first red-eye you could book a seat on. As a matter of fact, that was how you and Cassie first met, and how you first came across Hoyt. 

Beau had rushed over to you the minute he had spied you hurrying into the station, asking for Sheriff Beau Arlen and flustering Madge who had no idea who you were but that the man you said you were here to see was having a personal crisis and wasn’t up for seeing any visitors. You darted past her desk, which had further exasperated her, and you practically jumped into Beau’s open arms. You both hugged each other tightly and he nearly lifted you off the ground.

“Thank you,” he rasped out into your ear. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” You ran your fingers soothingly through the hair at the back of his neck. “Where do you need me?”

He had pulled back and it was then that you could see the toll this was taking on him; the fear, worry, and exhaustion were clearly pronounced on his handsome face. “Honestly?” He croaked out. He then grabbed your hand and quickly led you to an office in the back, both of you moving past many shocked onlookers, a 5’6” blonde woman among them who you would later come to know as the biggest pain in your ass in your career thus far. 

You saw the gold lettering on the door stating this was Beau’s office and he slipped you inside before shutting the door and closing the blinds. He pulled you back into his arms, burying his face into your neck. He surprised you a moment later by picking you up and placing you on the corner of his desk, never once moving away from you. You could feel the wetness against your skin and you saw his shoulders shake as he let out a pitiful sob. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I just… My baby girl has been taken by this murderous son of a bitch and I—” He couldn’t even get the rest out and you shushed him, holding him together as best you could while he fell apart, scared out of his mind at what could happen to his daughter. Emily was like a niece to you; you couldn’t even imagine how terrified she must be, let alone how her father must feel. You knew one thing, though: you and Beau would find her and bring her home. In order to do that, however, you needed to keep Beau from breaking completely and re-calibrate his focus.

You had started to press kisses to the side of his head, promising that you both would do everything to get Emily back safe and sound. “I’m here now,” you murmured into his ear. “We made one hell of a team once, this will be no different. We’ll get her back, Beau.” He sniffled and moved back to look at you, nodding. You gave him a tender smile and wiped underneath his eyes before running your hand through his wayward hair (it had grown slightly since the last time you saw him) and stroking his bearded cheek affectionately. “I’ve got you. Always.”

He stared into your eyes for so long as you comforted him that you didn’t notice that he was moving closer until his nose nearly bumped into yours. You didn’t realize that your breathing had picked up or that your heartbeat had accelerated until your lips parted to let out a small puff of air. His green gaze dropped down to your mouth at the action and then you noticed him wet his lips with his tongue. Your own tongue automatically mirrored his and you swore you felt your heart stop when you saw him take it as a green light and start to lean in, closing his eyes. Alarm bells went off in your mind: this was your best friend who was vulnerable due to the situation at hand, seeking comfort from someone familiar to him that he knew he could fully trust; there was an active investigation going on into his daughter’s abduction and you knew you were on a timeclock; every second counted and there was no time to waste. Yet you were frozen, unable to react and unwilling to stop him from taking the solace he needed in you. 

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined your friendship with Beau possibly crossing the line into something more at one point. While he was married, you had never entertained it, but afterwards, there had been that one night… Nothing had ended up happening between you, of course, but it had definitely been a close call. You had attributed it to too much liquor and the need for consolation during a rough time in his life, being more than relieved when he didn’t appear to remember the next morning. So your friendship continued unmarred by any tension or awkwardness. Now…how could you not give him what he clearly needed from you at one of the worst times in his life? 

You had just shut your eyes, making your decision and waiting for impact, when a knock sounded on his door and then it opened, a surprised gasp emitting from the doorway. You both turned to look, seeing a stunned woman standing there who you hadn’t passed by before. Beau let out a stuttered breath but pulled away from you all the same. It left a funny feeling inside your chest, but you told yourself he had made the right decision which prompted sweet relief to flood through your own veins. Nothing should occur between you and Beau right now, not when everything with Emily was going on and emotions were running high. And what if you had let him take comfort in you and it ultimately ruined your friendship? Not to mention he was now your boss. How complicated would that be? Your best friend meant more to you than one moment of throwing the rule book completely out the window. 

The woman worriedly glanced behind her and seemed to relax when she didn’t see who or what she was looking for. She then gave Beau a small smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Beau cleared his throat and leaned against the desk, next to you, facing the door. You discreetly ran a hand across his back in reassurance. “It’s fine. What is it, Cass?”

Your eyes widened when you heard the nickname and quickly made the connection. This was Cassie Dewell, the local private investigator Beau had told you about. He had mentioned that they had become close friends since he took the job.

“I just came to tell you that I think I might be able to help with Sunny.”

Beau immediately got to his feet. “You think she’ll tell us where Buck’s taken Emily?”

Cassie shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. She’s been married to the man for years. She may not have known he was a serial killer but she knows everything else there is to know about him. She has to have an idea of some spots he might have gone to that we haven’t come up with yet. And we do have the update about Walter as leverage.”

Running a tired hand down his face, Beau sighed. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s give it a shot.” He glanced your way and you gave him a nod. Then he started, as if he just remembered something. “Sorry. Cassie, I’d like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Cassie Dewell.”

Your head snapped in her direction. “Oh right, you’re the PI from the local agency in town that Em’s been working at.”

Cassie gave you a wave and you studied her, expecting judgment of some kind, yet there was no malice or hostility staring back at you. You had expected such a reaction from her walking in on you and Beau, yet all you could see was curiosity... As well as worry and guilt shadowing her eyes for a moment at the mention of Emily. “Yeah, that would be me. Hey.”

“Y/N’s from Houston.” Beau gestured towards you. “We worked quite a few cases together back in the day.”

Her eyes seemed to light up with recognition which surprised you. “Y/N Y/L/N…I was wondering why that name sounded familiar. You’re one of his former partners, right?”

You quickly exchanged a glance with Beau. “Sort of,” you confirmed.

“She’s transferring here but I asked her to come to help with…Emily…” Beau looked pained as he said the name.

You immediately laid a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you need.”

He gave you a thin-lipped smile and you squeezed him in reassurance. 

“Nice to meet you.” Cassie’s voice pulled you both from the moment.

Your gaze snapped to Cassie’s. “Likewise. So, this Sunny…she’s the owner of the campground, right? Close to where the body of the first victim was found some years ago? And she’s the wife of the suspect?” Beau had told you a little about the case before Avery’s death and Emily’s abduction.

Cassie nodded. “Yeah. I’m hoping she’ll feel up to talking. Beau, I wouldn't ask but…would you mind giving me a hand? It might help shake something loose if we both take a run at her. She’s more familiar with us, and Walter will give us more of a card to play.”

Beau thought it over for a moment. “Agreed. We’ve got to try anything and everything so let’s do it.” Cassie turned to leave when he called out to her, “I’ll be there in a second.”

She nodded and quietly closed the door behind her.

Beau let out a heavy breath and turned to you. “Y/N, I—”

You shot up, standing before him. “No need,” you spoke softly. You took his hand in yours and squeezed reassuringly when you saw his eyes tighten. “Let’s focus on saving your daughter.” You gave him a small smile and he nodded, pulling you into him to place his forehead up against yours. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, closing his eyes. When you felt him relax slightly against you after taking a deep breath, out of instinct, you did something you had never done before, not when you were this close together and it was just the two of you. You pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, right above his beard line, forcing his eyes to snap open, staring right into yours, and he focused intently on you. 

“Let’s go find her and bring her home,” you whispered, stepping back only when he nodded, and turned towards the door. 

“Do you want me to watch the interrogation or do you need me elsewhere?” You asked.

He came to a halt, thinking about it for a moment. “Interrogation.”

You nodded and opened the door, stepping through to see several pairs of eyes land on you. It might have been intimidating to someone else, but to you, it was just par for the course. Beau had warned you about the small town atmosphere compared to the big city one you were accustomed to, so you weren’t surprised in the least when people started talking in hushed tones to one another as you both walked past without a word to anyone. It appeared you and Beau were on the same page: Emily was priority and introductions to your new coworkers would have to wait. 

He led you to a closed door where Cassie stood, waiting. You glanced around to look for the room you would be led to in order to watch the interrogation but didn’t see it. 

“And who’s this?”

You turned to see the blonde woman from earlier, a forced smile on her face and her blue eyes assessing you.

Beau seemed caught off guard for a moment, his focus on getting to Cassie and then taking on Sunny, but he quickly introduced you. “Y/N Y/L/N, Jenny Hoyt.” You gave her a nod and she returned it. “Cassie and I are going to take a run at Sunny, see if maybe she has an idea of a location where Buck may have taken Emily and Denise.”

The blonde’s gaze softened as it landed on Beau. “Of course. If you want, Cassie and I can do it.” You noticed Cassie’s eyes tighten but she stayed quiet as the woman then leaned into Beau a bit, saying softly, “You’ve been through a lot in the last few hours.” You watched as she squeezed Beau’s arm in support. Ah, so this was the infamous Jenny Hoyt you had heard about. The same Hoyt that had given Beau a run for his money when he first took this job and then continued to be a wildcard in the field. The same one who Beau felt the ridiculous need to babysit. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you watched her gazing up at your friend as if he had hung the moon in the night sky but you schooled your features into polite professional interest by the time Beau glanced over at you. 

“I’m good. Actually, Y/N, I’d like you to join us.” Both Cassie and Hoyt turned gaping expressions on you. While this was certainly a twist, you knew Beau wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t have his reasons. Sure enough, he elaborated, “I think a new face might provide the perfect shakeup that we need.” He gave you a meaningful look and like always, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

You gave the group a curt nod. “Sure. Can I see the file real fast so I know what I’m working with?” You held out a hand to Hoyt, assuming that she had Sunny’s file in her hand in expectation of the interrogation, waiting for her to pass it to you.

The blonde glared at you, a hint of suspicion in her eyes, before glancing back at the man. “Beau, maybe we should slow down and think about this for a second. We might only get one shot at this so maybe—”

“Hoyt, my daughter has been kidnapped by a serial killer. She fits his MO to a tee and we need to find her before…” He pressed his lips together tightly before blowing out a breath. “Look, Denise has been taken too, my ex-wife is a mess of tears, Avery is dead, and I’m barely holding it together. Just let me do what I have to do to save my little girl. So give Y/N the damn file.” He spoke the last part through gritted teeth, signifying the end of his patience, and that appeared to shock Hoyt and Cassie. You assumed that this was a new side of Beau that they hadn’t seen before but his daughter’s life was on the line. What did they expect? If he hadn’t said anything, you would have snatched the damn folder out of Hoyt’s hands yourself. Precious time was being wasted with the useless pissing match she seemed intent on engaging in. 

Cassie recovered first. “Jenny.” She gave the blonde an encouraging nod.

Hoyt’s features tightened and her eyes were pure ice as she finally placed the folder into your waiting hand.

“Thanks.” You immediately started scanning the contents. After a minute or so, you felt you had a general understanding of Sunny and her history from the file in addition to things Beau had mentioned to you already. You had more than enough to be able to pull off what he needed you to do. You shut the folder and gave Beau and Cassie a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Cassie opened the door and led the way inside, followed by Beau and then you. Hoyt stared you down as you passed her but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Right now, your priority was the young girl whom you had watched grow up, who you had sat through a blistering hot, cheesy middle school graduation for — all to watch her walk across the stage in a cap and gown. Her life was on the line and you’d make sure she returned to Beau safely no matter what.

You weren’t in there long. You did exactly as Beau had intended for you to do. You teed him and Cassie up very nicely to get what they needed to. Not much time had passed before Sunny admitted she most likely knew where Buck went, especially when Cassie swooped in with the information that her son, Walter, was still alive despite Buck’s attempt to kill him.

Once you left the room, Cassie was intent on finding Sunny’s other son, Cormac, since Beau and Hoyt were going to drive Sunny to the location she had revealed. You were about to offer to do whatever was needed from you when you heard a loud cry erupt to your left. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a woman with dark hair rushing towards you. You barely turned in time for impact when Carla threw herself at you.

You held her as she cried, thanked you for coming, asked you to help find her daughter, mentioned her recently murdered husband, and just overall sobbed. This woman had been through one hell of an ordeal in the last few days. You couldn’t even imagine how torn apart you’d be if this were you, not to mention Carla was one of the most level-headed and toughest women you had ever met in your life. She was definitely tougher than you, and that was saying something considering you had seen some shit in your time. Now, seeing her reduced to tears like this, begging you to help save her little girl, to do whatever you had to in order to bring her baby back home to her…it turned your stomach and only added to the urgency of finding Emily and getting to her before that sick son of a bitch could hurt her. You hoped to hell he hadn’t already. Your stomach turned further at the thought and you could feel an all-too familiar fire that you kept a tight lid on when working cases that involved children… 

You forced yourself to let go of the thought. This was about Emily and her parents, not about you. Ignoring your experience that nagged at you and insisted that, due to the circumstances and the time already passed, there was a likelihood of a bad ending here, you swallowed past the lump forming in your throat and refocused your energy into trying to calm Carla down so you could help find her daughter.

It took Beau peeling her off of you and promising that you both were going to look for Emily right then to calm her slightly. She held onto Beau and you grabbed her hand, ignoring your training yelling at you in your head, and swore you would do everything you could to help bring her daughter back to her. 

“Y/N, Beau, please, you have to save her,” she begged. “Save our daughter!” She threw at Beau before Madge was able to lead her away. Watching her go, your jaw tensed as that fire from earlier threatened to return. You had the desire to find Buck and take the sick bastard down yourself.

Beau turned to you, his green eyes even more haunted than when you had first seen him, and that dulled the fire inside. No matter the anger you felt, it was nothing compared to what he must be feeling. You could only imagine the rage and hopelessness mixed with desperation that was swirling inside of him right now, and you knew exactly what he was thinking because you were thinking it, too. What if you couldn’t keep your promise to Carla? You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts. You wouldn’t think like that; those types of thoughts were useless. You needed to be at your best for him, for Carla, and more importantly, for Emily. Instead, you focused on the positives: you all had a lead right now, two in fact, and that was all that mattered.

You instinctively reached out and cupped his face with your hands, anchoring him as best you could. “Beau, listen to me,” you murmured. “You and Hoyt take Sunny to the spot she told you about. I’ll go with Cassie to find Cormac. Alright?”

He nodded, staring at you, and the movement forced a single tear to shake loose. You wiped it away discreetly before it could be seen and hugged him to you. “Go. Keep your phone on and if you need me, you call me. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to find her,” you whispered into his ear. 

You heard a sniffle in your ear. “Right, we’ll find her.” 

“And we’ll take down this sick son of a bitch,” you promised, pulling back to look him meaningfully in the eye. Come hell or high water, you had his back. 

Nodding again, he gave you a smile that was more of a grimace and placed a hand against your cheek. “Yeah, we will.” You reached up to give his wrist a squeeze.

“Beau.”

Both of you turned to see Hoyt and Cassie watching you curiously along with Madge and a deputy who you would come to find out to be Poppernak.

“We should go,” Hoyt insisted. 

Beau glanced back over at you, quietly clearing his throat and removing his hand. “Yeah.” His gaze snapped over to the other man, as if he had suddenly just had a thought. “Poppernak, get Y/N here a vest before she leaves. Get one for Cassie, too.”

“You got it, boss.” 

Poppernak walked away and Beau swung his head back to you. “You call me the second you get anything from Cormac.” At your nod, he laid a hand on your shoulder and lowered his head slightly to look you right in the eye. “Be careful.”

You couldn’t help but smile and say to him the thing you’d said to him every time he told you this in the past: “Always am.” His features softened the slightest bit at the familiar exchange between you. “Now, let’s go find your daughter and bring her home.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out and gave a sharp nod, what you had always called his game face filling his expression. Squeezing your shoulder, he released you and walked away. You watched him go and sure enough, the blonde’s glare entered your vision when she looked back over her shoulder while walking with him out the door. It was the same suspicious glare you’d been getting from her in the last hour, the same one you couldn’t help but notice when Carla had first launched herself at you. You knew then that whatever her reasons, she was going to be a problem for you. 

“Ready to go?” Cassie asked kindly.

You gave her a small smile. “Yeah. Let’s go get Em back.”

“And Denise,” she added.

“Right. Her, too.”

The both of you grabbed the vests Poppernak held out to you on your way out. 

Cormac had actually proven useful and he had thankfully led you to the correct location Emily was being held in. Beau had been practically inconsolable when he called you before that, thinking Emily had been killed in an explosion. Even though you had seen him at the worst times in his life, and had just seen him breaking down in front of you back at the station, you had never heard the pain that saturated his voice right then. You struggled not to break down in tears yourself. Laughter, football games in the Arlen yard, ice cream runs after particularly tough days at school, you teaching her how to make paella and her mom’s smile when Em proudly insisted she made it all on her own later at dinner that night, rides on the ferris wheel at the fair because her dad was too scared to take her but wouldn’t admit it — the memories of time spent with your favorite teenager assaulted you in rapid succession. You forced yourself to focus on Beau, to keep him from falling to pieces right then and there. You knew that’s why he had immediately called you, before he had to tell Carla. 

You were beyond grateful when a minute or two later someone interrupted your conversation to inform Beau that there was no evidence that Emily was in the explosion. The body they’d found appeared to be male. No Denise and no Emily. You had nearly fallen to your knees in relief right then, and you could only imagine how Beau must have felt. 

And soon enough, you, Cassie, and Cormac located both girls, very much alive, and freed them. Emily had held onto you, her young face streaked with dirt and tears, clearly traumatized from all that had taken place over the last week. It broke your heart to hear her terrified whimpers. When she first saw you, she had cried out your name and once you had her in your arms, she refused to let go of you, which was just fine by you. You were grateful she was alive and appeared to be unharmed, but you secretly wished you could have two minutes alone with Buck, that sick bastard who had done this to her. Hell, you wouldn’t have needed your gun at all. 

Beau and Hoyt showed up just as you were all stepping out into the sun and a huge lump formed in your throat when Emily finally let go of you to run to her dad. Seeing them embracing each other forced tears to run down your cheeks which you quickly wiped away. 

You were grateful to Cassie for that day. Her hunch about Cormac and her personal connection to him had helped get Emily back home safely. Not only had the two of you worked well together in that short span of time, but ever since then, you could see that she was good to Beau, and to Emily. Both Arlens had massive respect for her and you could see why Beau had spoken so highly of her before you came to Helena, and why he insisted on having her back professionally despite her being a private investigator. It was common knowledge that law enforcement didn’t always like having PI’s poking around cases, but Cassie had been given full access and assistance. You now saw why and you were thankful that Beau had such a good friend up here, someone who truly had his interests at heart as well as his daughter’s. And now you were also lucky enough to be able to call her your friend. There were many movie nights at Beau’s that were filled with light-hearted teasing and plenty of laughter since you’d settled into life in Montana.

As for Hoyt…well, things hadn’t really changed on that front. She certainly wasn’t a fan of yours, no two ways about it. 

You had gotten to know Poppernak a bit after you arrived but he was still in suck-up mode, so you decided to turn that to your advantage. It really didn’t take much to get it out of him; Hoyt had a thing for Beau, nothing you already hadn’t caught onto. Hell, she was practically all over him at his movie nights as well as anytime there was a meetup arranged at the local bar; if she wasn’t present for one reason or another, she was calling him constantly, either saying she needed a friend to talk to or it was under the guise of discussing ongoing cases. Beau never got a day off and there wasn’t one day he spent with Emily that didn’t get interrupted by a phone call from Hoyt. There had even been times he’d had to call you and ask you to take Em to a movie or keep her entertained because Carla was out and he had to go help the blonde on what should have been a case that a rookie fresh out of the academy could have handled. The kicker was that this was after what Em had been through, Hoyt knowing full well that Beau needed some time with his daughter after that ordeal. Not even you interrupted them, though both father and daughter had invited you to join them quite a few times.

At one point, you remembered the other thing Poppernak informed you about: rumors were circulating around the department that Beau and Hoyt were involved and had been secretly seeing one another. You knew Beau would have told you if he was seeing anyone, but it was no secret that Hoyt had appointed you as her archnemesis and you didn’t care for her at all. What if the rumors were right and Beau was too embarrassed to tell you? Or what if he thought it might make a bad situation worse? What if he wanted to find what he considered to be the right time to tell you? And if he was indeed seeing her, it would explain the incessant calls, the moon eyes, the distaste she had for you — all of it. The doubt continued to gnaw away at you and you didn’t sleep so well the first few nights after the talk with Poppernak. 

Finally, one day you asked Beau point-blank if anything was going on between him and Hoyt. Once he closed his gaping mouth and put his eyes back into his head, he assured you they were just friends and he was her boss. She had been through some ordeals herself and he was just trying to be there for her, to give her support when she needed it. Nothing more. You knew it was complete and utter bullshit or Beau wouldn’t have been so suddenly interested in the case file on his desk. A case file you knew had been sitting there for the past two days.

There was no way that Beau was ignorant of Hoyt's attraction to him. The woman practically had a flashing neon sign on her forehead every time she looked at him, not to mention she had pulled out all the stops to let him know she was very much interested. Beau was an affectionate person by nature so little touches here and there between you were par for the course with him if you were his best friend, as long as they were welcomed and didn’t cross any lines or make you feel uncomfortable. There wasn’t a single opportunity Hoyt didn’t take to get her hands on Beau or to get those little touches out of him. Of course he knew; he had to. All of this was so blatant, everyone else around them knew, too, hence the rumors swirling around the department. Even Carla knew, as she’d mentioned to you one afternoon, and if you thought you didn’t care for Hoyt, then the former Mrs. Arlen downright despised the woman. People who Beau and Hoyt didn’t know knew, as evidenced by a witness at a crime scene asking to speak to the sheriff’s girlfriend again. Yet, if he was willfully ignoring her consistently throwing herself at him, then there was nothing more you could say. To his credit, you had never seen him return any flirtation or interest, no matter how hard Hoyt was putting herself out there, before or after your conversation with him. 

There were a couple of times you discreetly noticed the hurt in Hoyt’s face when Beau chose to accompany you on a case, if he and Cassie were laughing together, or if he was extra tender with Carla when she would drop by the station to talk about Emily. It quickly became clear that this was more than a crush or some simple attraction; the blonde had serious feelings for your best friend. Knowing Beau the way you did and everything he’d been through the past few years, it shouldn’t surprise you if he was purposely putting blinders on when it came to this topic. Beau had dated some since his divorce, but he wasn’t ready to get serious with anyone. At least that’s what he’d told you time and time again, back in Houston and now here. It had taken him some time to get over his ex-wife and now Emily and his job were his top priorities. While deep down you might have a very tiny trace amount of sympathy for the blonde, Beau was the one who mattered to you in this equation. If Hoyt wanted to keep chasing after her emotionally unavailable boss, then that decision was on her. It wasn’t like Cassie hadn’t warned her, something the PI had mentioned to you one night after a few drinks while you both sat at a table, watching Hoyt pulling Beau onto the dance floor despite his clear reluctance. So if your best friend lived more comfortably in the land of Hoyt-is-just-being-extra-friendly-because-she-appreciates-my-friendship, then who were you to burst that bubble? 

It did bother you tremendously though to see Beau not putting up any kind of boundaries whatsoever with Hoyt even though they were sorely needed. So, in your own subtle way, from time to time, you tried to suggest he put one up… Maybe two. He would humor you and hear you out, but then he’d either pick up the phone the next time she called him on a day off or he’d refuse, saying she was in a fragile state right now and he couldn’t afford to put distance there when she needed his support. After a few instances of this craziness and Hoyt’s attitude with you grew, you stopped being subtle which resulted in arguments that turned into yelling matches, tense silences on the rare ride-along, slammed doors (usually at your place since a slammed door at Beau’s would most likely have knocked that thing over; Pedro’s door was a good replacement though—that thing may be old but it was strong like a tank), refusals to look at one another, crossed arms, and sometimes radio silence for a few days if the disagreement had reached a bad enough point. You were always professional when on the clock and you always resolved things eventually, but this was one sticking point neither of you budged from. You knew Beau was a good man and had a heart of gold, something you loved and respected about him, but he could sure be infuriatingly stubborn at times.    

And while you could admit Hoyt was a decent, hardworking cop, she was also a decent-sized, hardworking pain in your ass. You knew she’d be a problem for you and boy had she been. Her whole thing with the sheriff aside, it was no surprise that the source of her hostility towards you was the man himself, namely your friendship with him. You both were close and even though nothing had ever happened between you, it became clear that the blonde detested any familiarity or affection shown by either of you to each other. You thought it was ridiculous and you refused to change your relationship or how you did things just because she was eager for your friend to look at her the way she had been looking at him. In fact, whenever you were around, she turned her obvious coyness and see-through flirting attempts up a notch. Presently, as of a few weeks ago, Hoyt had taken to physically marking her territory, or what she considered to be hers, like her sitting on Beau’s desk—right next to him. She’d slide in beside him in your usual booth at The Boot Heel or she’d take the chair next to him during movie nights which would force you and Cassie to sprawl on the deck with a blanket, struggling to get comfortable on the hard wooden planks underneath. You fully expected one of these days to walk in on her jumping Beau right there in his office chair, something you hoped to hell you never did because you would never get that sickening image out of your head.

Sure, you had talked with Beau plenty of times about her open hostility. He had begged you to try to make peace which always made you laugh because you were not the intentional catalyst of all of the contention in this situation. 

“I have to make peace. Right,” you muttered, taking a sip of your beer that Beau had offered to you when you arrived at his place a couple of months back.

Beau threw his head back against his chair in disbelief. “I’m just asking you to maybe extend an olive branch. This thing between you two is killing me... And everyone else in the department.”

“Maybe you should tell your undersheriff to, I don’t know, act like an undersheriff?” You ignored Beau’s loud groan and continued. “Isn’t that what she’s supposed to do? Run the department while you’re out? My God, Beau, she can’t even go to the bathroom without your permission. You know that, right?”

“Y/N…”

“You and Em were supposed to go fishing last weekend with Cassie and Kai. I was going to take Carla out for the day to catch up and keep her mind off things while Em was gone. Remember that?”

You ignored Beau rolling his eyes. “Yes,” he begrudgingly admitted.

“And what happened?”

“Y/N, a case dropped. Alright? It happens. When a dead body pops up, I need to know about it.”

“Know about it, yes, not work it.” He turned to meet your unflinching gaze. “No more bullshit, Beau. You didn’t make it to Sheriff by being stupid. You’ve worked in a bigger department before, dealt with way more crime, and overseen a bigger force. All on your own. If this were anyone else, you’d have told them to do their goddamn job by now, or you’d get someone else to fill the spot. You’re making excuses for her and you’re holding her hand like she’s a damn 5 year old.”

Beau dug his teeth into his bottom lip, staring at you in thought. “I told you, she’s been through a lot these past two years.”

“And you haven’t? Cassie hasn’t? Your daughter and her mom? Really?”

He let out a deep breath and sipped from his bottle. “We all have. That’s why when one of us needs a hand, we give it without question. When one of us falls, no matter how often or how long it takes, we help them get back up, every single time.” 

You swallowed the argument on the tip of your tongue and sat back in your chair, staring down at your bottle and playing with the edge of the label. “Okay, Dr. Phil.”

A laugh erupted from the man and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shaking his head. “I’m just saying we all help each other as best we can. If that means she needs help on a few cases, I’ve got her back.”

“I think you and Hoyt have very different ideas of what the word few means.”

“Y/N, if it was you, if it was Cass, I’d do the same thing. You know that. Look, she was there for me when Em was taken.” You did your best to hide your flinch but it must not have been well enough because his hand suddenly covered both of yours. “You all were,” he clarified. “I’m just trying to return the favor.”

“Sounds like you two are a lot closer than either of you let on,” you mentioned quietly.

When he didn’t respond to that, you snuck a glance up at him. His eyes were glued to you but after a minute, he retracted his hand and dropped his gaze to the deck. “We’re friends.”

You felt a weird sensation in your chest, like something fell into the pit of your stomach with those two words. Beau was a very direct person. He looked you in the eye, he shook your hand, and he didn’t bullshit. That meant if he wasn’t looking at you, if he was feeding you this same line of bullshit, you knew that wasn’t the entire truth. You weren’t sure if it hurt because your best friend was lying to you yet again, possibly still not trusting you with the truth, or if it was due to what he’d said. Either way, you refused to look at it too closely, not wanting this feeling to consume you as it seemed intent on doing. It was easier to put distance there in your mind, to tell yourself that Beau Arlen was a grown man and he could make his own decisions. You just wished he’d get involved with someone better suited for him, like Cassie. Granted, Cassie was with Cormac and they seemed happy, but why couldn’t Beau find his own version of Cassie? Someone who wouldn’t interrupt his time with his daughter, who wouldn’t selfishly absorb all of his time off, who didn’t physically embody the definition of clingy, and who wouldn’t treat his best friend like shit day in and day out?        

Honestly, you could care less about what Hoyt thought of you or how she acted towards you. For you, this was all a one-sided issue that Hoyt herself was making. You saw through her bullshit and you didn’t take her crap, and that infuriated the blonde. But what did she expect? After working a short stint in homicide in Manhattan and then with cartels, drug rings, and all sorts of other mess in Houston, very little had the power to intimidate you these days. Certainly not some little Miss Perfect whose work uniform appeared to consist of band t-shirts, leather jackets, and thick long heels as an undersheriff (how did that make for a successful running down of a suspect? seriously), who also batted her eyelashes at her boss and scowled at you from the moment Beau addressed your existence. You’d seen some things in your time and Helena’s runner-up for this Regina George wannabe was a mere speck on the windshield of shit on top of shit. You had no time for it. You just wished sometimes that Beau would stop trying to put it on your shoulders to do something about it, especially when he knew who the real culprit was.

And almost as if he had just heard your thoughts, he hit you with: “I’m asking you if you can be the one to reach out, Y/N, because I know I can rely on you. If I ask her… With Jenny, it’s complicated.”

“Not my problem,” you snapped out, taking another sip and refusing to look at him.

A very tense silence followed for the next few minutes as you both nursed your beers. You half-wondered if this night was going to end in yet another argument about a woman that wasn’t worth wasting a second over. This much disagreement was uncommon for both of you and you hated it. Oh, sure, you’d had your spats over the years but they were pretty minor and easily dissolved. And the silences… Usually, if a silence fell over the both of you, it was comfortable and felt overall peaceful. Not lately, which always seemed to follow a mention of Hoyt in some fashion.

You felt the all-too familiar burning in the corner of your eyes when you had the thought that had been getting louder and louder as more time passed: perhaps your transfer here had been a mistake. You didn’t regret being here to help when Emily was taken, but maybe once she was safely back home, you should have returned to yours. While Beau had made room for you in the department, there wasn’t really a place for you here; as much as you enjoyed spending time with your favorite family and new friends like Cassie, the person you had dropped everything and moved across state lines for was on the other side of a huge chasm that hadn’t been there before his move up north. It was growing every single day and you had no idea how to stop its progress or bridge the gap. You did your job well and deep down, you knew you would be more efficient elsewhere. You settled into the Montanan lifestyle as best you could but you had to admit to yourself that you knew it wasn’t a perfect fit. The more time passed, the more and more you believed your decision to be a mistake. The man you cared most about in this world had called you, told you he needed you, and you jumped without hesitation, not sparing a single thought or even looking to see where you’d land. Were you really that surprised that things were turning out this way? And every single time Hoyt threw hostility your way, it reinforced what you already knew to be true, the very message she had been sending you these past six months: you didn’t belong here. You turned your head to the side to discreetly wipe away a tear that had managed to escape and you took a breath to prevent any more, telling yourself to get it together.  

You waited for your eyes to clear, to push back down the swell of emotions inside you, and took one last sip of your beer. Just as you were about to announce it was time for you to head home and thank him for the drinks, Beau spoke up. “See that?”

You glanced up to where he was pointing and caught the tail end of a shooting star. A small smile formed on your face as you took in the night sky. You had never seen anything like that before. That was one thing you’d give Montana. It was hard to believe but the sky was so different compared to Texas and definitely not the same as New York. Everything up here was so clear and beautiful. Big Sky Country indeed. 

One night you, Beau, and Cassie had taken to trying to pick out as many constellations as you could find on Cassie’s smartphone. You were not completely successful but there were a lot of laughs as you all tried your best and then there had even been a very interesting conversation about UFOs and the possibility of extraterrestrial life. That had been a night for the books, especially when you and Cassie broke out into fits of drunken giggles when you grabbed Beau’s nose and made a weird mix of a boop and honking sound when you all discussed how you would greet aliens should they ever show up but were not hostile towards humanity. Beau had merely rolled his eyes in good humor and promptly cut you and Cassie off for the rest of the night, taking car keys from the both of you.

“A shooting star,” you whispered in amazement. “I think you’re supposed to make a wish on them, right? Did you make one?” You kept searching the sky, hoping to see another one so you could do just that. The other one was too fast and you desperately wanted to wish that things would get better and you could make your new home work like you had in Houston. The thought immediately saddened you when you remembered how a certain Texan and his family had helped in that department. You swallowed the lump back down and kept watching the sky, hoping like hell the universe would help you out just this once. Just one more. You weren’t wanting a meteor shower to suddenly happen of course, though that would be amazing to witness. You made a mental note to yourself to google it later to see when and where you could see one.

“Already did.”

Your brows furrowed at his response and you turned to find him watching you closely, almost as if he was waiting for you to realize what that wish had been. When you did, you scoffed and got to your feet, second shooting star and your wish be damned. “I’m not doing the olive branch thing so you can forget it. Not even some small rock from outer space is going to force me to do that one.” You stretched, feeling slightly more energetic than you had a moment ago, most likely due to the irritation you were currently experiencing. “Well, this has been fun but I should head home. Thanks for the beer.”

A hand pulled the nearly empty bottle out of yours and another dug into your jeans pocket, pulling your keys out before you could react. “Beau, what the— I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. Listen, you know the deal. You need to sober up before you leave.”

“I’m not drunk! I’m not even tipsy!”

Beau shot you a look. “It’s late. There’s a possible ice warning for later tonight. You’re staying.”

“I have work tomorrow!”

“Good thing you have such an understanding boss then, huh?” He gave you a wink which made you roll your eyes and fold your arms across your chest.

“If you’re so worried about my blood alcohol level, maybe don’t serve alcohol when I come over?”

“What, and miss great moments like…” He reached up and grabbed your nose, making the same boop-honking sound you had made weeks ago. 

You pushed his hands away. “First of all, that is not what I sounded like. Secondly, I’m no lightweight. You know that. How many times have I drunk you under the table?”

He lifted a finger and opened his mouth to argue but then thought it over. “Good point.” You gave an approving nod. “But that was one time, in San Antonio.” He was referring to the day trip you had taken so you could visit the Alamo. You had never been and when you mentioned it, he insisted on being your guide. Carla and Emily were supposed to go as well but the latter had gotten sick so her mom stayed home with her. Beau didn’t want to leave Emily and you were willing to reschedule but Carla insisted you both still go. When you visited a bar later on, Beau issued a little friendly drinking competition between the two of you, as long as one of you was still sober enough to drive home. He had been convinced he would emerge victorious; he was wrong. That had been a long ride on the I-10. By the end of the night, Carla had her hands full with two sick people, each having their own trash baskets by their bedsides. It took some time but she eventually forgave you.

You held up two fingers. “Twice actually. You didn’t really think I’d let you forget Austin’s birthday party at that place in downtown Houston, did you?”

The man winced. “Alright, alright. Twice.” You nodded in approval. “Now, all the talk about drinking aside, you did just remind me how my time with people I care about has been interrupted quite a bit lately. Even if you’re set to drive, just stay. We can watch a movie and you can have the bed.”

A part of you wanted to accept but the other part wanted to retreat to your sanctuary, where you could break down in tears or mope around in peace. “I don’t really want to spend another night in the tin can,” you whined. “My bed is so much more comfortable and I feel it calling to me right now…” You glanced longingly in the direction of the road.

Beau’s jaw dropped. “Tin can? Between you and Em, I swear… Why can’t my girl get any respect around here?”

“Because you refer to it as a girl. You know how I feel about that.” Another eye-roll. “Beau Arlen, you keep rolling those eyes of yours at me, they’re going to fall out of your head. You just wait.”

“Sure they will.” He laid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer and giving you a smirk. You couldn’t help but lean into him, hoping to feel that closeness between you again even if it was only physically. “What if I whip out some marshmallows? Whaddya say?”

“Are you really trying to bribe me to spend the night? With a gooey, sugary, yet very deliciously fluffy confectionery treat, no less?”  

“Is it working?”

You shrugged though deep down you knew it was. Marshmallows over a fire were your kryptonite and the son of a bitch knew it. “Tell me you have graham crackers and some chocolate that’s not expired, and you’ve got a deal.”

He beamed at you like a kid seeing wrapped presents under the tree on Christmas morning, making your heart feel a little lighter. How could you say no to that?

A few s’mores and quite a few more beers later, you were snuggled into his side, rapidly falling asleep. He had insisted you sit with him in his chair so you could both huddle under his one blanket for warmth on the cold night. Your drunken giggles may have made a reappearance as he worked to adjust the both of you for maximum blanket coverage but you would never admit to it if ever questioned in open court. You swore you’d buy him a few more blankets, especially when the thought popped into your head that there was a possibility that he and Hoyt had cuddled and done God knew what else under that thing. You’d even tried to wiggle it off of you since the thought took root in your stomach and soured (or maybe that was the beer), but Beau kept tucking it around you and pulling you closer until you finally gave up and settled against him with a sigh. The sound of his heartbeat and his deep voice as he spoke to you lulled you into slumber almost immediately. You thought you felt his lips brush against your forehead and you could have sworn he said something akin to “Definitely came true” but you had practically drunk your weight in beer and you were exhausted from the late hour as well as all of the roiling emotions inside of you so you couldn’t be sure it wasn’t something you dreamt instead. When you woke up with a massive headache the next day, alone in Beau’s bed with the blanket completely wrapped around you while the man snored from the couch, a dream was definitely what you chalked it up to.

And now here you were, yet again, at another impasse over the insufferable pain in your ass named Jenny Hoyt. The woman barely interacted with you, preferring to act like you didn’t exist or to silently glare at you from across the room, and she wasn’t even here, but somehow there she was, always in between the two of you. It really made you miss the old days, back before things went to shit for Beau in Houston. Back when things were a lot less complicated. 

“Davis is booking Webb so I’ll go finish up the paperwork.” You turned to head towards the door.

“Y/N,” Beau sighed, giving you a pleading look.

“Thanks for the talk. I’ll catch you later.” You sent a forced smile his way and slowly spun out the door, closing it behind you. Passing by Poppernak on your way to your desk, you snatched a muffin right out of his hand. 

“Hey! That’s the only blueberry from the bag. Madge got the other.”

“That sucks,” you teased before breaking off a piece of the top and tossing it into your mouth. “I thought you liked chocolate chip, anyway.”

“Nah, not anymore. It gives me bad heartburn,” he confirmed sadly.

You couldn’t help but arch a brow at him. “And blueberry doesn’t?”

He shrugged. “Not as much.”

With a roll of your eyes, you tossed the muffin back at him and he caught it with a bright smile. You slipped the paper out of your back pocket and punched a familiar number into your phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Your mother, Pepper Snaps.” Poppernak frowned over at you. You couldn’t blame him; you were being a total crankpot. It wasn’t just your recent conversation with Beau or Hoyt’s attitude or even your most recent case. You hated that you had to sit at a desk in the middle of a busy station while Beau and Hoyt got to have their own offices. Normally, you wouldn’t care, but when it came to phone calls or conversations best kept away from prying eyes and overeager ears, it was frustrating. You weren’t a deputy — you had as much authority as Hoyt, and Beau had made that perfectly clear to the department when you started (though you had a different title due to politics and budgetary reasons). Due to lack of room, however, you were forced to share a space with them, your deskmate being Poppernak. Not that you minded but damn the rest of the department could be so nosy sometimes. When you noticed a couple of other deputies watching you, you asked loudly, “Can’t a girl get some privacy around here?” All of them looked away, not willing to enter into yet another glaredown with you. They never emerged victorious in those encounters, even Miller who could be a real jerk when he wanted to be. They had all learned very quickly in your first week that you could hold your own and you could go endless rounds with the best of them. You could stand the heat and before long, it would be your kitchen and they’d be burnt to a goddamn crisp or running for the door. 

“Mind your muffin,” you grumbled to Pops.

When the line connected and the operator asked you who you were trying to contact, you cupped your hand over the mouthpiece and asked for the department you needed. While you were being transferred, Pops arched his eyebrows at you in question since he had overheard you because no damn privacy.

You let out a sigh in resignation and shook your head. “I’m following up on a case. It’s nothing.”

“Sure sounds like something,” Pops said through a mouthful of muffin.

Giving him a look, you sat back in your chair and listened patiently to the public information that substituted what normally would be hold music. You thought back to your ride over to the station and what Webb had said while in the back of your car. You may have pushed the right buttons to get him to open up and say enough to help you make the decision you just made, but you didn’t have any evidence that anything he’d mentioned was the truth. Still, you knew what you saw and you knew what your instincts were telling you. Like Beau said, you couldn’t get involved but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do something.

A few minutes later, after consistently turning Webb’s words over and over in your mind and listening to the same public safety message for the twelfth time, someone finally answered.

“Agent Sanchez? It’s Y/N Y/L/N. Not sure if you remember me from the Carter case last year. How’ve you been?” Carter had been an escaped convict that a manhunt had been on for last year, and it had been an all hands on deck situation. You and your partner had been stuck with Sanchez and this other dickish agent whose name wasn’t even worth remembering, but you and Sanchez had gotten along well enough to help get the job done. In the end, Carter had been apprehended and dumped back in prison thanks to the cooperation and joint efforts of all of the agencies involved.

You made a little small talk and then you got right to the point. “Listen, do you happen to have any contacts in the branch office in Montana? You do? Do you think you could put me in touch? I have a case up here that I think one of their departments might want to take a look at.”

Sanchez gave you the name and number of his contact, told you to keep him updated, and let him know if you needed anything else. He also mentioned you should call him to go for a drink next time you were in town. Remembering the wedding ring he had been sporting, you gave him a vague but polite noncommittal, thanked him, and promptly hung up. You glanced up to find Pops staring at you wide-eyed.

“What?”

He glanced around, seeming unsure, and then leaned in closer. “Does the boss know you’re doing this? Because if Hoyt finds out you’re pulling the Feds into this, she’s going to—”

You held up a hand after you dialed the next number and unfolded the paper from your pocket, looking at the information you needed. “Pops, let me stop you right there. I spoke to the sheriff already about this case. What Hoyt does or doesn’t do, doesn’t concern me, and the same goes for her where I’m concerned. Understood?”

Poppernak shook his head and leaned back. “Okay but it’s your head if she finds out. Just warning you.”

You gave him a wide grin right before the line connected once again. “She can try.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 👉👈

[idyllic-ghost]

a helping hand; mingyu x reader

request: Omg omg omg I just had this scenario in my head where like the reader and Mingyu are co-workers but enemies and do not get along but one day they both take the same subway home and it is unusually crowded and packed and the reader starts to get a bit uncomfortable with so many people and a bit claustrophobic. Mingyu notices it and takes the reader to a corner near the doors and like puts his hand on the wall to support himself while towering himself over her but still maintaining the necessary distance so that she gets some space from the crowd and it's just a very cute moment between them where they don't consider each other enemies for a moment. (requested by anon)

synopsis: your usually bitter coworker becomes your hero during a train ride home

a/n: sorry this one's so short, i have a lot of requests to get through!

warnings: crowds, social anxiety mentions, phobia for dark places

genre: coworker!au

word count: 1.4k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Please make a copy of these for me, Y/L/N," Mingyu said coldly as he walked past your desk and slammed a stack of papers down in front of you.

You glared daggers into your coworker's back as he walked away, not even paying attention to the stack of papers cluttering up your workspace. For as long as you had worked for this company, Kim Mingyu has been trying to make your life a living hell. He started just a month before you, but for some reason he had decided to take the role of your personal manager.

"Why can't you do it yourself, Mr. Kim?" you asked loudly, making him stop and turn back to you.

"I'm off on my lunch break, and we need a copy of those papers for our next meeting." He shrugged. "It's only logical that you take care of it."

"I think it would be more logical for you to finish all of your duties before going on break," you snapped back.

"You're a part of this team too, Y/L/N," he said. "We're supposed to work together."

With that, he walked away. You sighed and picked up the papers, making sure that they laid in a straight pile instead of a messy mass as he had left it. It was clear that Mingyu wouldn't be making those copies, and it needed to be done. If you tried to complain, it would likely only backfire, so you walked over to the copy machine and got to work. You couldn't wrap your head around what Kim Mingyu had against you. When you first met he seemed nice, social, and definitely not hard on the eyes - but you would never tell anyone that. He seemed like everyone's dream partner, work partner or otherwise, until he started being an asshole to you every chance he got. It wasn't blatant rudeness, but it was enough for you to notice.

Most of the things he did were just petty; like filling his coffee cup more than he should just so that he could take the last of the coffee from you, or making you run errands for the company by strategically putting himself to work before your supervisor could hand him the task. Because they weren't outright harmful acts, you couldn't complain about it without seeming petty yourself - resulting in you trying to be petty in response.

After your last meeting, you started packing up and making your way home. Both you and Mingyu took the same way home, you even got off at the same train stop. Every day you would be a few steps ahead of him. You had the habit of putting on joggers after your day at the office, finding that bringing an extra pair of shoes was worth it for the walk to the train. Mingyu stayed in his rather uncomfortable, but fancy, shoes, so despite his long legs he never caught up to you.

When waiting at the platform, you stood a few meters away from each other but close enough to get through the same train door. You did this in order to not have to talk to each other, but you also didn't seem like you were avoiding each other. Avoiding one another was strictly childish behavior, and neither of you would sink to that level.

Today was different, as the station was more crowded than usual. You ended up standing shoulder to shoulder with your coworker, but the loud surroundings made it impossible to talk - which made you eternally grateful. The big crowd made you incredibly anxious, you had never been good with being surrounded by a large group of people. It was similar to feeling wet food in the sink, or the feeling you got when the elevator takes a few seconds longer to open. Dread filled your nerves, and you wanted nothing more than for the train to arrive so that you could get home. You started fiddling with anything you could; your finger nails, the ring on your right hand, the hem of your shirt, anything. The fidgeting alerted your coworker, who wasn't pleased with the situation but in a way that was annoyed rather than anxious.

As the train arrived, most people on the station started getting on. You considered taking the next train, because maybe there would be fewer people on that one, but you couldn't. Being so close to the entrance, both you and Mingyu were pushed through the door by the sheer force of the crowd. At this point you were on the verge of tears, starting to become overwhelmed with the amount of bodies surrounding you. Pressed up against everyone around you, you could do nothing but follow the stream of people onto the train. Your skin was tingling, like the feeling of an itchy sweater, and sweat started building up under your collar. Everything was too loud, and everyone was too close.

Once inside, it didn't get any better. You felt someone grab at your arm, and when you looked to your side you saw Mingyu again. He was pulling you through the crowded train. All the seats were taken, but he managed to find an empty corner which he guided you to. He put his hand on your back and urged you to stand in the empty area. When you were in place, he stood in front of you like a shield. With him towering in front of you, you couldn't see anybody, and more importantly you weren't surrounded by the masses. You looked up at him and mouthed a "thank you", and he responded with a knowing nod before he turned his head to look out through the window. You took the opportunity to study his face for a moment. It was something you had only done briefly right as you had met him. Now that you were looking at him so up-close, you noticed that his furrowed brow was more out of concern than frustration - and that even with that slight frown his lips looked incredibly soft and delicate. Kim Mingyu, your unofficially sworn work-enemy, might actually be worried about you. If it weren’t for the fact that you were the underdog in the situation, you would’ve definitely poked fun at him.

The two of you stood in silence, you didn't even have the courage to take your headphones out from your pocket. For whatever reason, it felt like if you moved an inch, it would end in catastrophe. The moving train was enough to make you cautious. There was nothing for you to hold onto, so you had to focus all your willpower on making sure you could stand on your own two feet. However, the train didn't appreciate your attempts at keeping your normal work-relationships after this ride, as it shook when running something over on the track. The shaking itself was enough to make you stumble. If it had only stopped at that, you would've been fine. Life found it's way to make you miserable, though. The train came to a halting stop, which sent you flying into Mingyu's chest. He held you by the waist with one hand, holding onto a railing with the other.

"There has been an accident on the rails, please be patient as we solve the issue," a voice said over the intercoms.

A few groans could be heard around the train cart. Some people had fallen. Due to the massive amounts of people, most couldn't hold onto something to keep themselves steady. You, however, did. Your arms were still wrapped around mingyu, your face pushed against his chest.

"I am so sorry-" You tried to get away from him but then the light flickered.

Mingyu's grip on you tightened as the lights turned off. Your ear was still against his chest, and you could hear his heart beating a mile a minute. He was scared of the dark. In any other situation, you would've teased him for it but now it wasn't the time. You decided against bullying him, since he had helped you while getting on the train. Instead, you let him hold you without saying a word. His strong arms held you tightly, and you could feel his hand shaking as he kept it on your back. There was a low murmur throughout the train, as people talked about what could've possibly happened, but the two of you stayed quiet. Mingyu was practically frozen, only relaxing his muscles once a voice started speaking over the intercoms and the lights flickered back on again.

"We are happy to say that no one was injured in the accident," the voice over the intercoms said. "The train will start moving again shortly. Thank you for your patience."

Mingyu let go of your waist and cleared his throat, looking away from you as you did the same.

The next day at work you first saw Mingyu when he walked into the morning meeting. He looked tired, as if he had already been here for a while despite it being so early in the morning.

"Excuse my late arrival," he said as he sat down. "I was busy copying up the new schedules and the copy machine was down."

Making copies. A job he would usually settle you with, specifically when you had just sat down in the meeting. Mingyu handed you a new schedule, your fingers brushing against each other. When you looked up at him he gave you a soft smile. This was new...

Neither of you said anything about the day before. There was nothing to say. You had taken the train together, then walked your separate ways home, but for some reason everything had slightly shifted. He was still an ass to you, but from time to time he would do something unexpected. Something had changed, and you definitely didn't mind.

[iamcxlleigh]

𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐒𝐈𝐑. | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⨟ You are young, beautiful and full of eagerness to learn coming into the BAU, that's what Hotch could notice mainly when he first saw you, over time he realized that you started to see him with different eyes, eyes dangerously in love.

The moment he decided to request his transfer from the unit, you showed up at his office telling him all the reasons why he couldn't leave and leave his team.

𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⨟ new bau reader, young reader, you are in love with hotch, hotch is married to haley, situation located in the chapter “In Name and Blood” (S3E2).

𝐧/𝐚 ⨟ english is not my native language, an apology for any grammatical or spelling errors.

(the reader has a default name, I do not use y/n).

You knocked on her door slowly and a little saddened by everything that was going on in the office. So many things at once.

The delicate case, Gideon's disappearance, Prentiss' absence and now, Hotch's transfer.

— Come in — Your boss's voice said, you walked in looking at how he put his things in a box, you really couldn't believe that Aaron Hotchner was really leaving.

In these months that you had been with the team, one of the people you admired the most was Hotch, his determination, audacity, courage and intelligence, he proved to be the most capable agent in his job.

He had become your role model, someone you wanted to make proud for your performance, your feelings towards your boss had been increasing as time went by.

Becoming something more personal, something that surpassed admiration and professionalism, a crush that would not go beyond your feelings in the depths of your heart and mind.

— JJ gave me the details of the case, so you have them with you — You said walking into his office with the folder in your hands.

— I'm not on the case, James — Hotch answered looking at you firmly, with that typical serious expression.

— I just follow orders — You answered leaving the folder on his desk, you looked for a second at the empty space where his family photos were previously, You sighed before moving away from his working area and joining properly with both hands in front of you — Until I'm a field agent, I just follow any kind of order, sir.

For the time being, your work was summarized in doing paperwork, going back and forth in the office, even doing some interrogations, you climbed little by little until you were authorized to go out into the world to hunt the sudes, to be an expert profiler.

Hotch observed you without deforming his serious expression, being the special supervisor of the unit he was very aware of the evolution of his new recruits, so he followed your progress, you were being excellent in your work for the moment.

He got to know you very well, carefully evaluating your behavior, habits in the office such as being the first to arrive after him, cleaning your desk every day, drinking your morning coffee without fail, among other simple things.

Even detailing the feelings of admiration for your colleagues and expressed commitment to your work, but Hotchner was not blind and something he had noticed was the beginning of that feeling.

That excitement as you looked him straight in the eye, and how you listened attentively to his words as you sought to follow everything to the letter, even noticing JJ and Garcia's jokes about your happy feelings for him.

— All right, thank you James — He expressed continuing with his work, you nodded slightly before walking slowly to the door of his office resigned.

But when you put your hand on the handle you stopped thoughtfully, you could not leave without struggling even a little.

— Sir, I have something to say — You said plucking up the courage to say everything you had to say — About your transfer.

— Garcia and Morgan already tried it, it's a decision made — He replied crossing his arms.

— Not until you're in the system — You affirmed — I know I'm new and you don't like me as much as the rest of the team, but I want you to know that you, Agent Hotchner. are the most qualified for this position. You are the most qualified for this position, and we don't want another unit chief other than you.

Hotch listened carefully to your words, you seemed a little hesitant to speak because of nerves, but ultimately you were being sincere.

— I know this job is very stressful and leaves a lot of fallout, I haven't experienced it up close yet, but you have and I can tell you are the most professional and prepared to be here, I can't imagine anyone else in your position and I don't see any other officer doing the job of saving lives as well as you do.

— James, listen-.... — He wanted to speak, but you kept talking and talking with your arguments.

— And I really don't think you can sit in an executive office from 7 AM to 6 PM, I mean I'm not saying no but the point is, your job is here, helping people and catching sudes, making a real change to the world no matter how small.

— Courteney... — He warned calling you by name, even knowing the nickname the others had given you «that was connie» you continued to speak.

— That's why I personally think you should stay, we all feel the same and hope you can consider it... Sir — You finished playing with one of your rings on your fingers, believing that maybe you had said too much.

You looked at Aaron like a freshly scolded child, hoping that your awkward words had changed his perspective on the situation even a little bit.

— Is this a personal request? — Your boss asked expecting a sincere answer, you looked at him understanding how dangerous the question was and how well thought out your answer had to be.

— Yes, sir... It is a personal request, but it does not affect or harm my job perception, much less cloud my respect for you.

There was a brief silence until Hotch's phone rang, I glance at it quickly before looking back at you.

— Well, James. Excuse me — He said briefly inviting you to give him privacy, you gave a quick nod before leaving his office going straight to your work station.

— Hotchner — You answered his call hearing Morgan's voice on the other end of the line, clutching the case folder thoughtfully.

He took the folder and tucked it in his things to take home, feeling a tremendous need to want to be aware of the situation and the progress of the case.

Without Strauss being aware, after all. Her transfer was not yet in the system.

Motivated by your kind words and absolute sincerity, he believed he could do his best one last time, your words helped a bit in the.

You were in Garcia's office handing her some papers when you overheard her talking to Hotch.

It was so encouraging, even when he specifically told Garcia to rush his transfer request through the system, a hunch in both of you gave you a glimmer of hope that he would forget that order.

And fortunately, he did. Hotch would not go away.

When the team returned from the case, you talked to Emily asking what had happened given a big bump on her forehead, she assured you that it was just a little hiccup in the situation with the unsub, she was going to be fine.

By the time the office began to empty out, you were one of the last ones left doing your paperwork, you were standing by the printer watching the papers come out one at a time.

Hotch was about to go home, and try to patch things up with Haley after their argument before leaving for the case, he crossed the lonely corridors of the unit but stopped when he saw you by the printer.

— Go home, Agent James — He said giving you a little scare, you turned to see your boss with his bags a few feet away from you.

In your head bounced the way he called you “Agent” even though he was one, they didn't tend to call you that way much.

— I'll be leaving in a few minutes, I want to finish this first — You answered taking the freshly printed papers — Good night, Sir.

You walked past Hotchner with the intention of going to your desk, but Hotch's voice stopped you again.

— Thanks, James — He expressed with a friendlier tone and not as professional as he was used to talk to you, you looked at him without understanding — Your words helped me to make the decision.

You smiled slightly feeling proud to hear that, you felt that as silly as it was, you did a good deed with your clumsy words towards your boss.

— Well, my personal opinion and silly feelings worked for something — You laughed looking at your shoes with some pity.

— It wasn't silly at all - Your boss replied shaking his head slightly — Personally? It was touching.

Your smile faded but not in disgust, it was given to the impression of his words. That your boss knew your personal feelings for him was embarrassing, and you were sure that if it were someone else half the office would know by now.

But you were sure that with Hotch, that personal detail would be safe.

— I'm glad... Sir — You replied with a sweet smile.

— And another thing, just call me Hotch. You're part of my team now — He answered with a small smile, you were surprised by how nice his smile looked, how lucky were those people who could see it more often.

— It's okay, Hotch. Thank you — You answered without leaving your smile behind, really happy about this moment. You both smiled at each other quite confidently.

You turned around as he did, each of you going your respective ways, ready to move on.

— Don't forget that your weapons test is on Friday, James — He reminded you fleetingly before walking through the glass doors to the elevator.

Of course you wouldn't forget, if everything went well in that evaluation. You could finally be a bau field agent.

— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 —

‹ 16. 05. 2023 ›

credits for : @iamcxlleigh

Hello people, how are you? I hope you are well, I haven't written about Hotch for a long time since I was quite sick for a while, I'm still a bit sick but I'm getting better, and I decided to write a new imagina about the last chapter I saw of Criminal Minds. ❣️

If you want to read more of Hotch, don't forget to go to my master list, or send me a request. :)

calleigh angelo ──── ‘lista maestra’

¡Nos vemos! 🗯️

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

-

K listen, I've haven't written any band FF in a LONG LONG LONG time, mkay? But Bad Omens...Noah Sebastian...mmmph. Let's see how far we get here. If you enjoy, let me know. If you want to be tagged in the next part, let me know that too. If you even so much as take the time to read MY SINCEREST GRATITUDES CAUSE WRITING THIS STUFF IS MY ESCAPE. xo

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Part 1 - Burning Out

Work had been long today. Longer than most days. The customers screaming at me had only taken it's toll so much, but having a God awful supervisor who was hell bent on making me late for my meeting, knowing full well how important my twice weekly meetings were, had completely wiped my energy and patience in one fell swoop. Needless to say, I was in no mood for excess attitude or traffic today. Which is why I found myself cursing at the jackass in the SUV in front of me, taking at least a year to make a right hand turn into the close to empty parking lot where the meeting was being held. It took the last of my self restraint to not lay on my horn and flip a specific finger at the driver.

Finally reaching the normal parking space in front of the unmarked office building, I silently breathed a sigh of relief. I had made it, only 2 minutes later than I should be. I began scrambling for my energy drink and my bag before shuffling out of my car and pressing the fob to hear the beep of the alarm set. My poor beat up Tahoe was doing her best, so I never took my frustrations out on her.

As I crossed the parking lot, I whipped my head around to gauge the spaces, noticing all of the regulars were already here, meaning I was the last to arrive. Sucks, given I'm the meeting organizer. Something caught my eye. A vehicle I didn't recognize, a black SUV. The same one who apparently can't make a right turn to save their life. Newbie? The rest of the offices were closed for the day, so I can't see why else they'd be here.

The building is always so quiet at 6PM, so the tapping of my chucks on the tile floors is louder than I'd like, drawing attention to my obvious lateness. (To who?). Didn't matter. I felt ashamed. These meetings are the most important facet of my life right now. I needed to be more punctual. Maybe next time, I'll tell Supervisor Sam to fuck right off like he deserves.

"Guys, I am so fucking sorry. Douchebag sup made me late...again." I announced as I backed into the door, opening it, and heading straight to the table to pull the Crumbl cookies out of my bag and setting them next to the water cooler and Keurig machine. I always brought sweets. It kept the cravings away.

"No worries Leena, we've just been chatting with the new guy." I turned around to see Abel, my veteran, who was gesturing to someone I didn't know.

I went around the circle of chairs, counting off my regular faces, some newer than others.

Abel, Rodger, Syd, Seth, Ali, Jackson, Mark, and Jillian.

However, sitting between Abel and Jillian was a newcomer, who currently had his back turned, slumped forward in his chair. Brown hair, longer than the hat he wore, black sweatshirt and dark blue jeans. Black sneakers. Hood up. Guarded, uncomfortable. What little of his hands I could see kneading together, they were completely tattooed. Even at Abel's mention of him, he didn't turn to face me.

"Oh! Well good! Great job guys. We can go ahead and get started." I grabbed my clipboard off the table, and rounded the group and took my normal spot next to Syd. By the way her hair was pulled back and her face looked dry and sullen, I could tell we had some things to talk about today.

"Well, my new folks don't typically like to talk first on their first day, but just know, that you being here is only the beginning. And we are all here to welcome you to our group. Right, guys?" I directed my statement toward the stranger, who I now can see more clearly. His face is pale, with the exception of the dark circles rested comfortably above his cheekbones. If I were to take a guess, those had been there a while.

The rest of my group nodded, with several of them giving a quick 'That's right.' and 'Welcome in.'

"I'm Leena, the group coordinator. I can answer any questions you may have?" The stranger just peered at me with dark eyes and shook his head. "Okay, we can jump right in, then."

I could feel Syd next to me bursting to talk, so I looked to her.

"Syd, do you want to get us started today?" She only nodded, wiping some stray tears forming on her cheeks.

Syd was such a beautiful girl. Only 21 years old, it was amazing that she found the strength to come to us so young, and work on turning her life around. Her neon blue hair was knotted on top of her head, and she was picking feverishly at her sleeve of her sweater. I could feel what was coming. I always could.

"I...I fell off the wagon." I only nodded, knowing. She had missed three meetings, and unless someone forewarned me about vacations or work obligations, it almost always meant they were on a bender of some kind.

"Okay," As her tears began pouring, I reached over and ran a hand up her arm. There was a reason I sat Syd right next to me. She had been one of my newest, and biggest challenges. Overcoming the demons was an every day, every moment, every second battle that she was still very much fighting. "It's alright honey. We're all here to support you. No one is judging."

She went on to explain she had began with a mimosa at brunch with her friends, who didn't know she was in recovery. She didn't want them to know, so she tried to just sip. It didn't work. It never does. The one drink lead to a blackout weekend and three days in jail for public intoxication. She lost the job she had just gotten at the local DMV. Syd was going through it. She would need Seth, her sponsor, more than usual right now. He was on the other side of her, clutching her hand as she cried.

Once Syd had finished her confession, and emotionally put her 30-day coin back in the jar, we moved on to Seth.

One by one, through the circle, we heard everyone's stories of recent achievements and sorrows. Challenges and victories. Their ongoing battles. Once Jillian finished telling us about her recent trip to Vegas with her friends, where she managed not to have a single drink. We applauded her, because we all knew how much restraint that took.

I would steal occasional glances at our guest, whose eyes would also glance back at me once in a while, but mostly followed the speakers, never moving in his chair, stoic as cement. This isn't uncommon for people coming here for the first time. It's not easy to do, and it's wildly uncomfortable at first.

However, the circle was now all looking at him, and a look of almost panic flashed across his face.

"Is it on me?" His voice was deeper than I expected, with a clear rasp to it that told me all I needed to know about his history. He belonged here, and we were glad to have him.

I nodded. "How much you tell us is entirely up to you, but all I ask is you at least tell us your name, and why you're here."

He bit his bottom lip, eyes cast at me from across the room, looking up through long, dark eyelashes. "I have to say it out loud?"

"That's one of the first steps." I kept a soft smile on my face. Being warm, and understanding was my entire job here.

Abel's elbow nudged the stranger, who glanced at him, encouraging him. "No worries man, we've all been here."

A hard sigh left his throat, ending with a sharp cough.

"My name is Noah. And I'm an alcoholic."

****

Once the meeting had ended, I was stacking chairs back against the wall, prepping the room for the next meeting, NA. They had their own setup, and would be in here in about 30 minutes. Most everyone had left, with the exception of Abel, Syd, and Noah. Our newest AA member had been pretty tight-lipped about himself, only admitted to being 27 years old, and in the entertainment industry. He didn't elaborate further. That was just fine. If he kept coming, we would encourage him further, but AA was all about getting you through it at your pace. As long as you didn't drink, I was happy.

I was putting away the leftover cookies, planning to take the last couple with me to work tomorrow for a snack. I happened to catch a glimpse of someone leaving the restroom, and I noticed it was Noah. Everyone else had left only a couple minutes ago.

"Oh, hey!" I waved at him to come over. He paced his tall frame over to me, towering over me easily. He had at least a foot of height on me, which was hilarious, given I was a year older and 3 years sober myself.

"Hey, thanks for having me today. I didn't know if you could just come to these things." I slung my bag over my shoulder, smiling at him.

"C'mon, I wanted to chat with you before you left." We made our way out of the building as Angie, the NA organizer walked in past us, smiling at us both.

We reached the parking lot, my green Tahoe and the same black SUV being some of the only vehicles left. It dawned on me that he drove the SUV. Well, he may need a driving lesson, but he seemed nice enough.

I turned to face him before heading for my car. "Have you talked to anyone about being a sponsor? The only requirements I have is that they have been sober at least 6 months. Almost everyone in our group is, with the exception of Syd and Jackson." I could see him chewing his lip, his fingers fiddling with his keys.

"No, I...I didn't think about it." His eyes were looking everywhere but at me.

"Noah?" I asked, trying to get his attention. "Do you know what a sponsor is?"

This drew a short, burst of a chuckle out of him, his lips curling in a sheepish grin while he shook his head. I saw his frame relax for just a second, his arm reaching to scratch the back of his neck.

"I don't." I nodded, chuckling myself.

"No worries! I didn't when I started either." I waved him over to the bench perched just outside the building. He followed me and we sat. "A sponsor is someone to keep you straight. Someone who will keep your head on when you feel like you might fall off." He was listening, eyes fixed on me. "This is the person you call when you want a drink. They'll talk you down, distract you. Support you." He nodded, understanding crossing his features.

"Do they have to be a member of the group?"

"No, not necessarily, but they do need to be sober. A sponsor is no good if they are drinking and setting bad examples."

"Makes sense. I'll think on it." I stood up then, stretching up on my toes to flex my legs that had been sitting most the day. He stayed sat, now looking up at me.

"I do need you to have a sponsor by the next meeting on Thursday, though. Have to have one by your second session. And if you don't have one by then, we can get someone in the group to sponsor you, no problem."

He raised a brow at me, a smirk on his lips. "Didn't you say you only had one rule?" This threw me off. Smartass? It was innocent, I could tell, but a joker. Hadn't had one of those in a while.

I laughed it off. "Well, I only do for your first day. There are only a few rules to AA, but they're pretty much common sense."

He stood then, towering me once again. "Can you tell me anyway? I don't want to fuck this up." We then began walking back towards the cars. When I walked toward mine, he followed. It was dark already, so I didn't mind. This was LA, after all.

"Well, the first is obvious, no drinking." I popped my driver door open and flung my bag in toward the passenger's side. He nodded at me and leaned against the rear door of my truck.

"Second, no coming in drunk. As obvious as that may seem, you would not believe how many people I've kicked out of the meeting for showing up mid-bender." He raised his eyebrows. "As much as I'd like to keep and eye on them, it's not good for the other members."

"No, for sure." His tone was even.

"And lastly," I then looked straight at him, so he knew how serious I was. "don't ever lie to me." I could see him straighten just a little, feeling the seriousness of what I was saying. "If you fell off, admit it. I'm not judging. I did, so many times. But if you lie, you're out." I then took a step closer, if only to make my point, "Because I always find out."

He kicked off from my truck, his body less than six inches from mine. He looked down at me, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes ma'am." I felt a twinge up the back of my spine. It was a little warm all of a sudden, and my mouth was dry. I stepped back, and was able to regain my brain.

I smiled brightly at him and swung myself up into my truck. Before I slid my legs in, I looked at him, now almost at eye-level.

"Great! I'll see you Thursday, then!"

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader

word count : 3.4k

notes : with this part the plot actually takes off, more will happen in part 3 obviously i'm just getting started ;)

The following day they met again at the client’s house to take care of the final details. They explained that the clock was the source and that they had to get rid of it for the haunting to cease. She simply needed to open the case and they would be on their way. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as it should have been.

“This clock has been in my family for generations. I don’t care what you say, you are not taking this heirloom to be burned among other rubbish.” Mrs. Overton was very upset. She didn’t want to hear any advice given and categorically refused to open the case.

“I understand your disappointment Madam, but if you want your house to be safe again, I really don’t see any other solution.” Mrs Dufour explained.

The conversation had been lasting for hours. Well, metaphorically at least. It really had been 15 minutes, but hearing a client complain about the source wasn’t what y/n liked about her job.

“What if you got display cases made out of silver glass?”

All eyes turned to her.

“Maybe we could find a compromise, we keep your clock while you install new displays and put it back once everything is made safe. That way you can still enjoy your family’s history without the creeping fear. Would that be possible Mrs. Dufour?”

“I don’t think-”

“That is an excellent idea!” Mrs. Overton exclaimed.

“But Mrs. Overton I’m not sure it could be that simple. I really think you should consider giving up your clock.” Mrs. Dufour objected.

“I’d rather keep it. Hopefully you oversee young people with practical solutions! You should listen to them.”

Kipps and Bobby had smiles on their faces, but Mrs. Dufour glared in her direction.

They agreed on a date to bring back the clock, signed a few papers and soon after the team was on its way back to the Fittes headquarters.

“You did a great job keeping our client satisfied today y/n. I’m really impressed.” Kipps said.

“Th- Thank you. That means a lot.” She looked down at her feet, she felt incredibly intimidated. Somehow, she still wasn’t used to receiving that many compliments. She finally got those four words she had waited a month to hear. Her dream of taking on more responsibilities was getting closer, she could feel it.

“Miss y/n, could I have a word with you?”

Her happiness was cut short. Was she really in trouble because she tried to keep a client happy with their service?

“Your behavior today was extremely disrespectful. Contradicting a supervisor in front of a client is beyond unprofessional. What image of the Fittes organization does it send? I hope you won’t do this again.”

“I was just trying to keep Mrs. Overton satisfied. But I understand.” She tried to remain civil. But really she had a hard time not rolling her eyes.

“Good. Now I must leave, I have another appointment.”

“I can take the clock back to Fittes’ if you want. It’s where we’re headed anyway.”

“Thank you but it won’t be necessary.”

“Really it’s no trouble at all.”

“I’ll take care of it myself, no need to insist. Good day.”

What a nice and pleasant person. Clearly if she considered this insubordination, she must have had her hands full when she had to supervise George. As she thought about him, she noticed how insistent she was on bringing the clock back herself. Especially if she had another meeting before…

---

“You should break into her office too.”

“Haha very funny. Will you ever stop making fun of George? He really was worth knowing if you gave him a shot. You shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him.” she told El.

“I’m not joking. If he’s such a great guy maybe, he was onto something. And her behavior with you was in fact very suspicious.”

“I think I might be reading into some things. I was tired, I’m probably not even remembering it right. Plus, it would serve me right if I got caught and ended up like George. How am I supposed to become a higher up in the Fittes organization with that on my record?”

“Yes, but you don’t see the bigger picture. If you expose her activities, you get all the praise and move up the ladder even faster.”

They couldn’t be serious. How could they even offer to do this? On the other hand, she was very curious to see what Mrs. Dufour could be hiding.

“There’s no way I’m doing this.”

“I wouldn’t let you do this alone! I’ve got your back. I would be on the lookout; you take five minutes inside her office and you come out without being seen. It’s no big deal. And if she is at a meeting right now chances are she won’t be back for hours. Now’s our chance!”

She considered their offer. How could she even think about doing this? But if she didn’t find anything, it would put to rest her suspicions. And if they did find something, it would benefit her in every way possible.

“Okay let’s go right now. But I’m only staying inside for two minutes, non-negotiable.”

“As you wish.”

They located the office easily. It was on the first floor, second office on the left after the elevators. It was lunch time, everything was quiet. y/n couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Her mind dissociated from her body. It went totally blank and watched as her fingers methodically picked the lock to Mrs. Dufour’s office. El stayed outside to warn her if someone came nearby. She entered the room with determination, trying to remain calm. Her heart was beating atrociously fast. What was she doing? As she stared at the desk in front of her she realized she had no idea what she was looking for. A source from another case that hadn’t been burned maybe? She opened a first drawer, and a second, a third… Nothing. That was such a bad idea. She had to leave. Now. As she turned around the door slammed. Oh no. Was Mrs. Dufour back already? Would El be able to distract her long enough for her to exit discreetly?

“I heard her mumble something about sources being stolen and suspicious behaviors, I didn’t catch all of it but it sounded like nonsense.”

That was El’s voice. What were they doing? She heard steps coming her way. She needed to hide. As she stepped behind a coat hanger near the door, Mrs. Dufour entered the room.

“Miss y/n, I know you are in here. Come out. Right. Now.”

She was holding her breath. There was no escape. She took a step forward. El was standing next to Mrs. Dufour. But they didn’t look panicked. In fact, they were smiling.

“I can’t believe this is the second agent I find here illegally this week. Between your behavior this morning and your break-in, insubordination isn’t enough to describe your insolent attitude.”

No words came out of her mouth. The shock she felt froze her in place.

“You are of course fired, that goes without saying. You can collect your things, I want you gone by the end of the day.”

“I’ll walk her out.” El said, a proud look on their face.

This wasn’t happening. It was just another vivid dream that merged with reality. She was going to wake up in her bed, the sun slowly rising in her window, and none of this would have happened. This could not be the end of her career. Her dream could not be crumbling in front of her eyes in just an instant, to be replaced with a horrific nightmare instead. No this wasn’t real.

“I can’t believe you followed me that easily to be honest.”

She looked up at El, tears now starting to blur her vision. She could only frown.

“But I guess when you’re that naïve and gullible you can’t possibly be qualified to be a supervisor. People like you shouldn’t be put in charge at all to be honest. I’ll never understand why you of all people were selected to be on Kipps’ team. Well now I guess there’s a spot open.” They said with a wink.

She shoved her “friend” aside.

“You betrayed me to get my job?”

“I would say I was smart and did my job correctly, betray makes me sound like a villain.”

y/n had shared a room with El for the past 4 months, she had grown to like them. Of course they were close, they basically lived together. Trust was part of the deal. How could she ever sleep next to that person again? Oh. Right. She wouldn’t have to. As of now she didn’t have a job and didn’t have a place to live either. She would be kicked out of the Fittes housing. She needed to get out, to walk, to breathe. She felt the walls closing in on her, she couldn’t breathe.

She rushed back to her room, tears streaming down her face. She opened her suitcase and bags, filled them with her stuff without taking the time to fold anything. She had to get out of here fast, she couldn’t look El in the eyes. She didn’t want to see their face at all. How could they have pretended for so long, putting on phony smiles and cheering at her success when really they just planned on replacing her one way or another? What did she do to deserve their hate? Was she really the problem? Maybe El was right. Maybe she was too naïve to ever be successful. Maybe she had brought this on herself.

She put on her backpack, took her rapier and her suitcase and exited the room. As she closed the door, El was coming back.

“I see you can’t get out fast enough. Good for you. Enjoy the night watch!” They had an arrogant smirk across their face.

She dropped her luggage, took one step closer and punched her dear friend in the face. They brought their hand up to stop the bleeding and looked at her with pure hatred in their eyes.

“Enjoy the broken nose!”

----

That helped relieve some tension. But she still felt like shit. What was she going to do? She couldn’t just go back home. Her parents would be so disappointed. Not because of the career but because she got fired. And because of the reason why she got fired. She was so ashamed of herself. How could she do something so stupid?

She wandered the streets of London, luggage in hand, for hours, lost in thought and mostly beating herself up. Aside from her life falling apart it was a beautiful day. The leaves were starting to change color, the light was still warm and golden. A fresh breeze rustled her hair as she crossed the street. She had no idea where she was going. She didn’t know that part of London well. She had passed Mayfair at least 15 minutes ago and was now in a more residential part of the city. The white houses had lavender at their balconies and most of them had an iron gate in front of the stairs that led to their door. The neighborhood was quiet and everything was still except for two crows hopping around at the end of the street. She was staring into space when a sudden loud noise made her jump. It was a malfunctioning ghost lamp that had went off even though curfew wasn’t for another couple of hours. It made her look up and she saw a sign reading Portland Row. That sounded familiar. Where had she heard of that street before? Wasn’t George living nearby? What was the number he had told her… 45? No, 35. She could always pay him a visit. It’s not like she had any place to be.

She hesitated. He would probably laugh at her. Though the situation was ridiculous. At least she would make someone smile. And she would get a cup of tea before wandering some more for the whole night. She looked for the number 35 and saw the sign across the street. She stared at the house for a while. She felt nervous for some reason. She looked at herself in a car window. She looked like a mess. Her hair was tangled, her eyes swollen from crying so much. George would probably take pity on her. That was so embarrassing. But given how her day was going she didn’t really care anymore.

As she opened the iron gate, she noticed a wooden sign that read “A. J. Lockwood & Co. Investigators”. The name didn’t ring a bell. The sign looked brand new. She vaguely remembered George mentioning a friend he was working with, but it didn’t look like she had met them before.

She felt lost. She wanted to run away, her shame growing with every step she took towards the door. It was almost unbearable. Burying herself into the woods in the middle of nowhere sounded more appealing suddenly. She forced her hand to knock on the door. She waited a few seconds that felt like hours. After a minute she figured they might be out. She turned around, ready to leave. This was a terrible idea. It was getting rid of the last tiniest bit of dignity she still had. As she stepped back one step the door suddenly opened.

“Hello, welcome to Lockwood & Co. Do you have an appointment?”

She turned around, surprised by the voice behind her.

“H-Hi George…”

“y/n? I didn’t expect you to come by so soon.” He looked at her and realized she didn’t look as proper as she’s used to. “Are you okay?”

“Not really if I’m being honest. Could I come in?”

“Of course, yes please”

He showed her inside.

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry it’s a slow day, I was just cleaning the kitchen.”

The hallway felt welcoming and seemed traditional at first. But as she walked deeper into the house, she noticed the masks hanging on the walls, the rapiers in the umbrella stand, the ancient weaponry on the shelves. The atmosphere was homely but also unsettling. It wasn’t unpleasant or threatening though. She felt strangely at ease.

They settled in a living room with the same atmosphere as the hallway. He brought her some tea and doughnuts she felt really grateful for.

“So, do you wanna talk about what happened to you? You clearly look like you’ve had a rough day.”

“I got fired from Fittes.” She blurted out. There. She’d said it out loud. It was official. George opened round eyes and looked at her in total disbelief. As he was about to say something she added

“For the same reason you got fired.”

George stared at her. His eyes couldn’t get any wider. They looked at each other for several minutes. After what felt like an hour George burst out laughing. y/n quickly followed. She relieved all the tension and stress she had been accumulating today. They laughed, laughed and laughed until they were out of breath.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, I am.” She said wiping a tear. At least this one wasn’t from sadness or anger.

“But what? How?” He could barely articulate full sentences.

She told him the full story. How she hadn’t believed anything he had told her. How Mrs. Dufour’s behavior had been strange. How she got talked into breaking the rules. How she was betrayed. How stupid and gullible she felt. How guilty she felt. For once it was her turn to talk. George found himself on the other side and listened closely to the whole thing.

“You really go all out when you break the rules.”

This threw them into another fit of laughter. At this moment, they heard the front door close.

“Hey George, sounds like you’re having fun. Who’s your friend?”

She turned around to look at the guy who had just entered. Her smile dropped. Could this day get any worse? Standing in front of her was the most arrogant and pretentious guy she had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

He took a step forward, putting out his hand as he said

“I’m Anthony Lockwood, pleasure to meet you. You must be y/n, George told me you would be stopping by.”

She stared at him; her anger rekindled. She didn’t shake his hand and simply waited, remaining perfectly still. After a few seconds he casually took a seat in a sofa opposite the couch she was sitting on.

“You look familiar, have we met before?”

She couldn’t believe him. Of course he didn’t remember. If the doughnuts hadn’t been that good, she would have gotten up and left without looking back. But she was desperately hungry, and she wasn’t so eager to spend the night wandering the streets of London with no place to go.

“You might have seen me around near Fittes, but I don’t think we’ve met.” She answered politely. He looked at her with a strange intensity, his expression briefly unreadable before changing into a complaisant smile. “It’s nice to finally meet George’s colleague.” She concluded.

“Well, more like his employer technically.”

For heaven’s sake. She mustered all the self-control she had left to not roll her eyes. She forced a smile, but it looked cold and stiff. The room fell silent, but it was probably for the best.

“So how are things going over at Fittes?” Lockwood asked her. He was trying to start the conversation again but there was a certain disdain in his tone that she didn’t appreciate.

George shot her a glance before turning insistent eyes towards Lockwood. It was sweet how considerate he was trying to be.

“Not that great actually since I was fired a few hours ago.” She said in a nonchalant tone.

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked at his shoes, avoiding eye contact. “Having heard you laugh so much I expected a much happier context.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“No, I didn’t mean-” He stopped mid-sentence. He looked defeated and just drank his tea in silence.

George turned towards her.

“So what are you gonna do now?”

“I haven’t got the slightest idea…” She admitted. “Maybe wandering the streets of London tonight will inspire me.”

“You don’t have a place to stay?” George asked, a certain worry in his voice.

“All the trains were booked, so I couldn’t go back home.” She lied. She didn’t want to admit that she was scared to tell her family about her situation. “I could always find a hotel I guess.”

“Don’t bother, you can stay with us tonight. Right, Lockwood?”

“Um, sure. I have an extra room in the attic.”

Fantastic. That was just what she needed. To stay even longer in his company.

“I really don’t want to impose. I’m sure you’ll be better off without me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just one night. It’s the least I can do after putting those ideas about Mrs. Dufour in your head. It’s all my fault really.”

“Why would you say that?” Lockwood asked, intrigued.

“I sort of got fired for the same reason he did.” She admitted. She couldn’t help the shy smile that appeared on her face. She genuinely wanted to laugh at herself.

Lockwood laughed at the situation too. He looked at her with a charming smile but she felt like he was laughing at her for being so naïve.

“Rule number one around George is to do the exact opposite of what he does.”

“I had my reasons for acting like this. I wasn’t blindly imitating him, she was being suspicious.” She said defensively.

“Maybe next time, or at least if there is a next time, don’t let George’s wild theories get to you.” He said with a wink. There was another face she wanted to punch.

She took a deep breath to keep her urges under control. Giving in to anger would only get her kicked out and then she would really be wandering the streets all night. She could always find another plan tomorrow but for now she needed to eat and to sleep soundly. The day had been exhausting.

[cecilebutcher]

⊱𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚞⊰

Woooo!! Part two is finally here! Let’s go!!

This chapter is gonna be mostly centered around Deuce^^

Please reblog the post if you’ll like!!

Hope you enjoy!!

Previous part || next part

Word count:1.5k

Warning⚠️: mention of blood. Mention of injuries.

‘I’m finally here!’ Deuce stood in front of a tall building. To the Naked eye it looked like an office building, witg tons of windows and some greenery. Deuce took in a deep breath and started walking towards the entrance. The first thing he noticed is was the amount of people around. They all looked like pretty normal. But there was one that caught his attention. A wolf beastman with silver hair. He wasn’t doing anything unusual, just filling out what seemed to be some sort of form, but something felt different about him. “Can I help you?” Deuce flinched, realizing that he’s been caught staring. His face flushed from embarrassment and looked away, those golden honey eyes staring into his soul, he let out a small awkward laugh and walked towards him. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to stare” the beastman scoffed and went back to filling his form.

Deuce sighed and turned to look at the receptionist, and gave her a card. In return she smiled at him and started typed at her computer. But before that she handed him back a form and a pen to fill it out. It was pretty basic stuff: name, age, date of birth, hometown and stuff like that. It took him a bit to fill out everything, but when he did he handed the papers back to her with a smile. “Please take a seat in that room over there” She motioned to a door next to her “someone will be there to assist you shorty” He nodded and thanked her before walking off to the room in question.

The room wasn’t small, but also wasn’t big, with couches tables and even a coffee and tea shelf next to a small refrigerator. There were two people in the room, the beastman and another human(from what he could tell). They looked up from their book and smiled at him with a small wave “Hey! Name’s Yuu. Nice to meet’cha!” The beastman sighed and looked at Deuce “Jack Howl” “I’m Deuce Spade. Nice to meet you too” he smiled back and went to sit near the refrigerator, mostly to keep distance from the other two.

The three sat there for almost an hour without a sound, occasionally one of them would get up and grab something to drink, but other than that the three were silent. Suddenly, the door was opened, drawing all their attention. The person who stood before them them looked to be around his mid 20s. He was tall and lean, with some muscles hidden by his office wear, dark green hair and glasses. “Sorry for the wait” he apologized and closed the door behind him “my name is Trey Clover I’ll be your supervisor from now on” Trey, their supposed supervisor, walked over to the fridge and opened it “I have to congratulate you three for coming this far, it’s very difficult” A door suddenly appeared, causing the three to flinch and stare at it in shock. Trey chuckled and walked towards it “Today is your last day of having anything close to normal in your life. From now on you’ll be training day and night” he turned around to face the three, the steel door opening “welcome to your first day as vampire hunters”

Deuce grunted and fluttered his eyes open. The room he was in didn’t seem familiar. It looked red with a Victorian theme to it, from what he could tell. He tried to move his head but was unsuccessful in doing so. His head felt heavy, like a bolder was inside of it, and so did his eyelids. He so desperately wanted to fall back asleep, but of course couldn’t, on account of being in an unfamiliar place and all. So with all the strength in his body, he somehow mustered up the strength and got off the bed. His entire body ached as soon as he did so. He could barely breathe, his breathing becoming shallow in the process. It took him a while but he but he managed to steady his breathing a bit and left the bed. He took in a deep breath and started walking towards the door with a limp.

He pushed the door open and left the room. The sight that greeted him was of a hallway overseeing a railing. He limped over to the railing and peaked over it ‘a living room’ Deuce thought before he started walking down the hallway. He passed around 3 other doors, all oak wood with a walnut coating. He noted simple things about the place, the ceiling was high, the floor was carpeted, the railing and doors were made out of the same material, there was an expensive looking chandelier in the middle overseeing the living room, and most importantly the entire place had a Victorian theme to it for some reason. ‘An aesthetic choice I guess’ he sighed and continued walking.

“Hey! You shouldn’t be out of bed!” Deuce flinched a bit when someone yelled behind him. He quickly turned around to find a guy staring at him. He had light green hair, goldish green eyes, a sharp jaw, and from what Deuce could tell a good figure. Not that he was checking the guy out! He was just looking! “Did you hear me?” The green haired male walked closer to him, obviously annoyed, which snapped Deuce out of his trace. “Oh, apologies! I was just looking around” He apologized with an awkward laugh and scratched his chin. The other male stood in front of him and crossed his eyes before sighing “honestly, Ace will kill me if he knew that I let you just wander around” Deuce let out a quiet sorry, smile still on. The other male turned around and started walking “follow me, I need to check your wounds” And so he did as he was told, following the mysterious man back to the room he woke up in.

When they entered the room Deuce was instructed to go sit on the bed and take his shirt off. At first he was hesitant, but when the green haired male took out a first aid kit he complied. Once sat down, Deuce started taking his shirt off. That’s when he noticed he wasn’t in the same shirt he was in when he stumbled upon this place. The taller male kneeled in front of him and started taking the old bloodied bandages off. Deuce just started at him while he worked. He noted everything about him. The concentrated look on his face, the way his pupils were slits, how his hair reminded Deuce of a thunderbolt, his sharp jawline, the soft lavender smell coming off of him. All in all if they had met in a different situation Deuce might’ve asked him out, if he wasn’t such a coward that is.

“Is something the matter?” Deuce jumped slightly for the second time that hour when the stranger spoke. “You’ve been staring” he looked up at Deuce, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. “Sorry” the blue haired looked away, his face slightly red “I was wondering what your name is” he didn’t respond, instead he just kept looking at Deuce with those gorgeous goldish eyes of his. “You don’t have to tell me, I’d just appreciate knowing my saviors name” a second later he heard a sigh “Call me Sebek” ‘Sebek huh? Pretty name’ “And I’ll have you know I only carried you here. It wasn’t my idea, or pleasure, to bring you to this room or bandage you” Deuce looked back at him, but he’d gone back to applying the bandages. He was confused, were there more people in this mansion? Of course there were. There is no way this guy is living alone in a big mansion such as this one. “May I know who it was then? I’d like to thank them” He said with a soft smile. Sebek, again, didn’t respond, which made Deuce nervous. He sighed and let him work, knowing he would get nothing out of him.

Finally Sebek was done and stood up. Without saying a word he picked up the bloodied bandages and threw them in the trash can, before placing the first aid back into its place. Deuce didn’t say anything at that moment , a bit embarrassed, and opted to just wear his shirt instead. He kept glancing at him, Deuce didn’t know why but the guy just seemed so enchanting to him. “I know you said it wasn’t your idea or pleasure to take me here and bandage me up” Sebek turned to him when he spoke “But still, thank you” for a split second he looked surprised, but that left as soon as it came. Sebek, continuing his streak, didn’t reply and just walked towards the door. Before leaving the room he turned his head just slightly and spoke, in a more calm and soft tone than before “You’re still injured, rest, someone will come wake you for dinner” he turned back to the door, opening it and stepping into the hallway “You can talk to the other two about leaving then. For now just stay here and heal” and with that he left.

Deuce let our a sigh and slumped on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, thinking the day over. Before he knew it his eyes started to shut, exhaustion taking over him. And before long, he was fast asleep again.

You guys can keep your below 1.5k fic here. But I’m writing a masterpiece 😎

But no really how tf did it get this long bro😭

If you want to be tagged in this AU or any of my work please do tell me either by commenting rebloging or just messaging me!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

Tag list🏷️: @ceruleancattail @twst-spotlight @mistyeyed22

[littlenightheories6]

My Little Nightmares: Stories of the Little Ones - Chapter 3: The Girl in the Fox Mask.

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

Isolation. A vast multiplex theatre in pure isolation. The enclosed society contains many secrets and surprises in each corner, inside out, without contact with the true outside world. How fitting for entertainment.

Most children would avoid buildings such as the Theatre. But she is persistent…

The atmosphere was silent, except for the workers and their supervisor’s shuffling and clicking shoe steps echoing while moving and placing boxes, poles, and other studio equipment around. They were preparing for a show. The distorted commotion they made, speaking in enormous bellows and growls like a hungry, violent stomach and abnormal clicks like a crow… 

Peering through her white fox mask and viewing the stage while she could, she noticed black boxes stacked and formed as towers on one side, background walls set on the opposite, theatre spotlights sitting on the glossy wooden floor, mini stages scattered around, with trolleys of mini props such as clothing, toys, trinkets, and more. And puppets that resemble children all too much were piled in a heap in the centre as if they were worthless to all. They were just as distorted as the adults, with faces like bad drawings or squished clay. Their odd body proportions, movement, and language proved their abnormal nature. The supervisor was going ballistic at her staff, who were oddly calm about her raging behaviour. With the lanterns mounted up high turned off, she couldn’t tell their exact details, but with the red seating area illuminating with bright gold, she could capture their silhouettes. They even have strange ropes or something floating in front of their faces.

It’s strange, but what else isn’t…? 

She couldn’t do anything except crouch behind a large box out of sight. Still scanning the stage, a door left ajar caught her attention. Close by with only a few steps.

“I can’t wait here for much longer, I need to go now!” Whispering. Taking one last look, she could see that the coast was clear enough, with the staff workers a fair distance away but the supervisor a bit closer observing all. As long as she doesn’t notice her.

Now is a good chance. Remaining her posture, she walked her way to the door, stepping one bare foot after the other on the glossy floor, which didn’t create so much noise for her, giving her some ease. The young girl was already making progress, only a few more feet…

She abruptly stopped in place in shock, looking to the left and seeing the abnormal shouts of the supervisor, yelling at her staff again… Ugh, bossy knob! However, when she continued forward, she felt her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t think her confidence would disappear so simply. She already felt sweat producing from her forehead and hands trembling slightly.

She didn’t have to fear for long as she reached the door. She raised straight, but with little effort pulling it, it creaked almost too noticeably, causing her to stop and look to the staff. Her face tensed slightly, especially since the supervisor was the closest, but wanted to continue through. Gently resting her left hand on the frame, she very slowly pulled the door wide enough just for her to squeeze through. Suddenly… She gasped and jolted back with the door creaking open farther to see the lights above surging on, illuminating everything on the stage. She felt a shockwave of anxiety passing through her body, seeing the supervisor’s appearance slowly turning to her. It wasn’t what she expected.

She wore a white buttoned shirt with brown pants and brown hair in a bun, but it wasn’t what she feared. Her face slowly met the young girl’s. However, she didn’t have a face. 

She only had long, bloated, and black tendrils that floated as if they were underwater and almost resembling human tongues. Grotesque and moist tendrils.

The young girl had enough. She turned and ran past the door frame and as the woman growled in surprise at seeing her, she turned again to pull the door closed with a strange large handle at her level, gripping on and stepping back quickly with the door, closing it shut.

She was in a lit and quiet corridor, with barely anything but more black boxes placed around. 

I, uuh… hope she won’t come in. Stepping back while looking at the door, she heard the muffled screams of the woman and multiple boot steps crescendoing as well, now with full dread coursing through her veins like being in the winter.

She had enough and turned to sprint away as the sound of shattering glass from the door was the staff workers breaking through and screaming in sight of the young girl. Their bodies ram and crack through the door like a rhino, as she sprints farther away until she has to jump and climb over a box to progress. Until the men finally broke through with debris scattered over and rapid, staggering steps chasing after the young girl. She felt they were catching up to her, feeling vast tension around her fearful body and mind, as they screamed and thundered like a storm down the corridor and crashed over the scattered boxes, as she dodged every optical in her way. She didn’t want to look back, she didn’t want to stop. But then, their tendriled faces extended far squelching, swinging, thwacking to try and reach the girl in their grotesque tongues. It went on for too long, she had to get out. They were getting closer. The end was near. Almost there…

She was able to escape by falling down a metal trapdoor that was closed by the thunder as soon as she fell, with the tendriled-face adults' muffled screaming and pounding disappearing as soon after. She grunted, landing on her back with the impact hurting slightly. She faced the dark sky and remained still, acknowledging the chaos. 

She felt her heart pulsing and her skin moist with sweat as she tried to catch her breath, resting her right gloved palm on her chest. When one looks for adventure, there are always consequences awaiting. 

And you don’t even realise it. After all; curiosity kills the cat…

She didn’t want to stay any longer and turned her sore body over to push herself straight up, brushing away any dust caught on her navy blue trench coat, white trousers, and white shirt.  

An air duct in front only led to one way, she could only crouch as she made her way with no hesitation. It was mainly dark, but a spot of light was ahead, leading to somewhere. 

She walked further in the duct, the vague audio of rustling wind and ambiance as the metal bloated beneath her bare feet. 

She has a habit of searching every nook and cranny within her path, taking risks at every moment she could and scurrying away silently. Curiosity takes control, and at this moment, she doesn't mind if it is risky or not. However, reflecting on it, she was the odd fish in the ocean. Not everyone was fond of her detective nature, claiming it was no fit for a lady, which made her feel like the outcast school children would stay clear of or tease her. 

She dreamt of becoming a PI and joining the force, but still. 

All she wanted to be was herself.

All I want to be is me. Is that all so bad?

As the light got brighter with each step, she could make out a faint dragging sound like chalk being drawn on a board. It became clearer as she made it to the other side and dropped down from the vent, grunting after landing on a wooden floor from high above…

That’s when she heard it. A gasp from someone before a clink like a pencil hitting the floor.

She found herself in a small yet large secret room with four brown shipment crates, three of which formed a tower, a large sack full of salt that had spilled onto the dry floor, and the lime green, dilapidating wallpaper with dark green hexagonal patterns that look like eyes with decorations. But that wasn’t what surprised her. On her left she looked, there was a small lantern close to the wall that dimly lit the room with its golden ember flame, there sat a young girl looking weariful and was a few steps away with her right arm up as if she was defending herself.

She wore an olive dress going below her knees, long, dark blonde hair almost covering her eyes, and a white skin tone, unlike her black skin tone, and was barefoot too.

The young girl in the fox mask jolted back slightly and stood in place as soon as she saw the girl. Seeing how she must’ve startled her, she raised her hands halfway to display her innocence. She felt nervous, but also glad, for some reason. The girl in the olive dress then relaxed her arm and seemed less fearful. She moved back close to her lantern, crawling to sit on her knees and resting her hands on them. They didn’t break eye contact and the girl in the fox mask gently lowered her arms down not knowing what to do next. The girl glanced at her and then at the girl in the fox mask…

“You can come close. You’re ok!” She spoke with a hand gesture.

She was a little surprised at first and hesitated, but she managed to walk to her as the wooden floor creaked slightly beneath her feet. She was slightly worried but still confident. It had been so long since she had ever interacted with any other children. Once close to the girl, she bent down to sit crisscross next to her clutching her shins. They both looked at each other but then stared at the lantern.

“You don’t talk so much, do you?” She asked glancing at her again.

“Um… It’s been so long. But actually, it’s just that you seem to trust me already!” 

She responded in a British accent while glancing at her back.

“Oh… It’s because I have this, um, six-sense feeling where I can tell if someone is dangerous or not. Like, a will-he-hurt-me-or-not sort of feeling. I don’t know how I do it or how to say it, I just feel it somehow.” She responded with pushing confidence.

The girl in the fox mask was mesmerized by her little talent and stared at her with a smile.

“I really like that!” She said with enthusiasm. 

“You have like a superpower that no one else has.!”

The girl in the olive dress looked surprised by her comment as if no one had ever told her that. She smiled warmly at her and even though she couldn’t see it, she could feel the girl’s smile as well.

“My name is Olivie. What’s yours?” She said while slowly reaching her right hand out for a handshake.

“I’m Nulla. That’s what everyone calls me!” She said while firmly clutching Olivie’s hand with her right gloved hand.

“Nulla. I like your name!”

They both then let go and retracted their hands back, feeling comfortable with each other like old friends anew, along with the lantern providing them with a little warmth.

Nulla then spotted something on the wall they were close to and shifted her gaze to it. 

It was a chalk drawing on the stone wall without wallpaper.

“Hey, did you make that?” She questioned while pointing with her gloved hand.

Olivie looked to her right to the drawing. “Oh. Yes, I did.”

She planted her hands on the floor to drag herself closer to the wall.

“This was my last meeting with a monster adult that I remember.”

Olivie’s drawing contained a little girl on the left with long hair that must be her and a girl in the middle with shorter hair that she never mentioned. Could it be a friend? Sister? Or companion? And a large adult with squiggly lines coming from their face, seemingly chasing the two girls. Nulla looked closely at the drawing and her eyes widened… 

“Hey, I think I’ve seen that before!”

“My drawing?”

“No, the man, or woman, with the squiggly lines.” She said while pointing to the chalk drawing. Olivie looked at the adult with squiggly lines she drew, brushing away a part of her hair covering her face, and understood.

“Oh! I call those the Tanglers.” She said, looking back at her.

“Tanglers?”

“Yes. I call them Tanglers because they can tangle any job they’re given with no problem! Like, shoelaces tying themselves onto anything they can use. I think that’s how I can say it!” Olivie’s description was slightly eccentric to Nulla, but she understood regardless, giving a nod. 

She looked at the girl with shorter hair, but before she could ask about her…

 A loud metallic bang echoed from behind which startled the two causing them to gasp and jolt their attention to see a vent flap cover creaking open with a girl emerging and standing straight with the flap cover banging shut… “Olivie, I’m back!”

Nulla couldn’t tell who it was due to the shadowy area from a short far, but it seemed that Olivie knew her.

“Feta!” Olivie joyfully said as she pushed herself up and sprinted on the creaking floor to embrace the girl in a hug. The two girls remained that way as Nulla bent and pushed herself on her feet. As soon as she stood up, the girls then let go of each other. Nulla could hear them speaking to each other from the distance, and as much as she didn’t want to intrude, she couldn’t help but pick up on their conversation.

“I’m sorry, Olivie. But I couldn’t find anything, and I didn’t want to leave you alone for so long.”

“Oh. That’s ok, Feta. And I wasn’t so much alone for long!”

The two girls then approach Nulla and the lantern stepping into view in the ray of light holding hands and seeing a girl in a dark green tank top and beige shorts. They stopped as soon as they were face-to-face with each other and Olivie introduced her to the girl.

“Nulla, this is my older twin sister, Feta! Feta, this is Nulla! She’s a new friend of mine, don’t worry, she’s friendly!”

Feta had a tan skin tone, short, red-ginger hair, and was also barefoot. Nulla questions them being twins based on their appearances but doesn’t want to make urging assumptions, not knowing their family heritage. Nulla waved confidently at Feta, feeling pleased to meet her. 

“Hello! It’s very nice to meet you!” She must be that girl in the drawing!

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Feta said shyly while waving back at her and smiled but with a lack of enthusiasm and tensity on her face as if she were uncomfortable. Nulla could speculate she was slightly wary of her, and so did Olivie when she glanced at her sister, her face proving it. It didn’t affect Nulla, since Feta was Olivie’s older sister and was most likely defensive of her.

“Hey, where were you at, Feta?” Nulla asked.

Feta hesitated for a moment but responded… 

“Oh. I was trying to find some food for me and my sister to eat. We’ve been hungry ever since he had to leave our home.” She ended with disappointment and glancing down. Nulla felt empathetic acknowledging the sisters’ situation. Olivie comforted Feta by easing her shoulder, looking sympathetic for her.

“Oh. Would you like me to help you find some? I’m good at finding things.”

Olivie’s face lit up with a little grin, seeing how Nulla could be a great support. Nulla, however, was more concerned about Feta, who must’ve felt concerned at first but then gazed into Nulla’s eyes and smiled slightly.

“Well, we do need a little bit more help. We’d really appreciate it, Nulla! You can take the lantern to guide us!”

 Although Feta did approve of her offer, Nulla still felt that she needed to prove more to earn her trust as her words and motions weren’t pure graceful but not so near to displeasing either. This could be her chance to show her true self, but also tense about making a false promise. She then stepped once to hold up the lantern by its squeaking thin handle and turned to her right to scan the entire room.

“Hmm… Hey, maybe that vent over there!” She pointed with her gloved hand. She sprinted softly on the dry moaning floor to the vent with the twins following behind. Halting before it, she looked down and bent on her knees noticing a strange rough substance pinching a piece up. “These are breadcrumbs someone left behind. This must be some sort of path to somewhere with food!”

“Ee, I can already taste it!” Olivie spoke with joy. Nulla looked straight to the open vent duct with the glowing ember lantern illuminating part of the path, hearing faint noises like whistling wind.

“Follow me. Stay close and be careful, we don’t know what’s there!”

Nulla crouched and stepped into the vent feeling the cold and slightly blunt metal beneath her bare feet. Olivie and Feta followed behind. She still could feel that Feta was suspicious of her, which somehow bothered her. Somewhat similar to how they treated her. 

It’s ok, Bel- Uh, Nulla. You’re ok.

What felt like a minute must’ve passed by as the three girls took two lefts and a right. She noticed how there were chalk drawings, similar to Olivie’s, left on the walls. One that caught Nulla’s attention the most was a man with an eye for a head. A man so similar to wait for…

“Hey, I think I see something!”

“What is it?” Feta asked. Nulla moved slightly faster to face a vent grille she found, with a ray of light peeking through the bars. Listening carefully, she couldn’t hear anyone present on the other side…

“I think it’s safe to go.”

“Wait, are you sure?” Olivie asked.

“Yes. It’s ok, you can trust me! Just wait.” Placing both hands on the grille, it creaks increasingly as she breaks it open falling face which causes all three girls to gasp. She landed on her side on a wooden shelf grunting as the vent grille rattled before her. Almost hurt but she was right. Groaning, she planted her palms to stand herself up shaking her head. That’s when she saw where they were at with the shelf giving her a high view...

Oh! A kitchen…! I didn't think this place would have one!

It was all illuminated by a golden light bar in the extremely high ceiling, with a fan operating on one wall. There was a countertop in the centre, with chef knives pinned on the cutting boards, pots, pans, and large spoons hanging above the rack, with crates tucked inside the shelves. There was also a line of stoves on one side where the double doors were, with towering pots boiling, sinks overflowed with towers of dishes, unnaturally tall cabinets, containing packaged and jarred food and beverages, with more crates, boxes, and bloated sacks tucked around, also forming towers or pyramids.

The young girl observed the kitchen and kept eying it from top to bottom. 

The kitchen was dead silent except for the echoes of water drop rhythms, the boiling pots, and the fan from above. Vague audio of people can also be heard from other rooms. 

Strange and distorted voices, and oddly enough, screams as if someone was being attacked or much worse…

“Is it safe to come out?” Olivie questioned echoing.

“Yes. Come out!”

Olivie stepped to the ledge of the vent and dropped down on the shelf grunting, along with Feta, the impact of them dropping echoed like in a cave.

“Wow!” Olivie’s voice echoed. “This looks amazing!”

Nulla glanced at the twin girls to see them amazed by the kitchen with their faces widened.

She then stepped forward once and glanced down to see they were standing on top of a cabinet. She crouched and turned to step one foot down and another on the shelves. 

“C’mon. We should find something here!”

Nulla climbs down low enough for Olivie and Feta to follow her actions. The bottom was too high from the floor but the three girls one at a time landed on the cold glossy floor unharmed as they dropped down with the impact echoing. Hm. It looks too big for a kitchen.

Nulla was occupied observing the entire kitchen until her attention was caught by Olivie’s padding and echoing footsteps sprinting to another cabinet sitting on the floor.

It was packed with popcorn in red and white striped cups, various styles of bread and cheese packed together, nacho chips in little brown paper bags, freshly cooked meat stacked on top of one another, soft and hard chocolate chip cookies in jars, and glass bottles in different colours containing juice, soda, and alcoholic drinks inside with labels to specify they’re adult beverage.

Wondering what she was doing, she and Feta walked after her. “Olivie, hold on!” Feta shouted. The moment she stopped, so did the other girls, curious what she was doing. They watched as Olivie stepped forward in the shadows of the bottom shelf with jars of cookies dragging out a plate with a slice of pie groaning as she emerged.

She sat on her knees in front of the plate with glee in her eyes.

“Feta!” She said turning her joyful face to the other girls.  “It’s cherry pie. My favorite!”

Olivie wasted no time and started biting through the enormous piece of cherry pie like a squirrel, crunching and chewing the hard-baked crust and red jelly before swallowing, as well as smearing some jam and crumbs around her face. 

“Mmm, this is so good! Feta you need to try some!” 

She said with a hand gesture. Nulla couldn’t help but smile seeing how happy Olivie is. 

She glanced at Feta who stood on her left, noticing the same reaction as hers. Feta glances back at her struggling to distance her sight from her, speculating she must’ve felt embarrassed. She turned to face Nulla with her hand rubbing the back of her neck.

“I, uh. I want to thank you for helping us, Nulla. I really hope I didn’t mean to be so rude to you.” She ended with an apologetic tone. Nulla couldn’t help but nod with appreciation.

“It’s alright. You’re the big sister anyway, and you want to look out for Olivie!”

They both smiled at each and Nulla felt glad to have been able to aid her new friends in their struggles.

“Feta?! C’mon!” Olivie boasted. Feta turned to Olivie with slight annoyance mixed with humor before turning back to Nulla.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind. You wanna join us?”

“No thanks, I’ll be fine. You can go eat!” She said with a nod.

Feta nodded back before turning and sprinting on the glossy kitchen floor to join Olivie in eating the cherry pie, sitting crisscross, and tearing off a piece of the crust with jam before crunching through.

“Careful, sister, you don’t wanna choke!’ Olivie responded with a giggle.

Nulla tilted her head slightly as she noticed how well they bonded, wishing she could create a bond similar to Olivie and Feta’s. It’s more than likely that she could bond with others, even to avoid thinking of her one fear. It’s ok, Bell- I mean, Nulla. You find one!

She decided to walk around the kitchen on the left side of the countertop, scanning it from the very high top to the bottom, her feet padding on the floor as they echoed quietly. 

She notices how the white sacks where they first arrived were stuffed with some sort of mass. A kind of mass that could resemble meat. And the sacks. Her face tensed as she realised they weren’t sacks. They looked like bandages wrapping around the meat to preserve them. 

But why does the meat in bandages look reminiscent of human figures?

It gave her an abnormal feeling. A feeling that this kitchen contained all sorts of food items, but as she looked around at the other cabinets, there was mostly meat in different sizes. However, she notices that there were multiple parchment paper stocked in all the cabinets and where the meat was stored. But, they don’t resemble paper so much given the texture and rough appearance. More like human skin. Now that I’m thinking about it. Maybe those voices I’ve heard. Those screams were shouted. Could they be…? Could it be that… This place?! She felt her stomach and face drop with chills travelling through her body as she started to get a morbid idea in her mind. 

One moment, she was glad to have found the kitchen. But at this moment, she wishes she didn’t.

What are they doing here?

Her gaze slowly moved downwards, but after realising her theory, her tensed face jolted up and she swiftly looked at Olivie and Feta, who were almost finished with their cherry pie. 

She feared the dreadful horror at first, but seeing the pie more clearly made her relax slightly. It didn’t contain anything that shouldn’t. But just then…

Her attention was caught by the faint chime of a grandfather’s clock being heard from a distance. The clock was ticking as the chimebell rang after two seconds. Nulla’s face turned to fear, her heartbeat in her ear, and off-centered with the ticking. She couldn’t hear anything else but the clock, as if everything she heard in the kitchen, the water, the pots, the fan, and the twins, faded away before she knew it. 

She swiftly turned her gaze to the kitchen doors leading outside. 

The clock…That’s where it’s ticking! 

She slowly turned around to the doors, drawn in by the ringing chime. She was scared, yet it still made her follow the rhythm. Her heartbeat soon then aligned with the clock’s ticking as she moved forward. Her vision was turning blurred with the anxiety increasing all over her body like a kind of faint ringing and numbness you feel when sitting on a limb of yours, but also in sound. She could almost see… Dark beige clouds.?! 

As the rhythmic clock ticks…Ticks… And ticks!

Until… Hey…! “HEY!”... 

Nulla gasped and jolted to her right to find Olivie shaking on her arm violently and shouting at her out of concern. She was perplexed about what had just happened and so was Olivie… “Are you ok? I saw you just walking to the door. Is something wrong?” 

Nulla struggled to speak while breathing loudly and slowly. She gently lowered her sight down until she managed to say something… “I, uh…” But before she could say anything, a loud bang jolted their attention to face the double doors, that didn’t open, seemingly locked from outside for some reason. Muffled furious groans of an adult were heard from the other side, urging to get in.

With fear in their eyes and hearts throbbing, they inched back from the door facing it while clutching onto each other's forearms until Nulla turned to Olivie with a commanding tone. “Olivie, go hide with your sister. Don’t worry about me, just hide!”

She nodded and they both let go as Nulla glances back seeing Olivie sprinting back to her sister. Faint clinks of what seemed to be multiple keys jingling as one is inserted in the keyhole with a click. The young girl knew she had minimal time. Looking for a place to hide, she sees an empty dumbwaiter on her left. She decides quickly to sprint and leap forward to pull herself in, just before the lock turns and the doors bang open, with the squeaking sound of wheels of a trolley along with heavy thumping sounds like an elephant entering along with heavy breathing and groaning.

Nulla hugged herself in the left corner crouched on the wooden platform as she watched from afar, her heart beating like a pecking bird. She tried to contain her breathing as the large adult thumped around the kitchen, not getting a clear look, but noticing they wore a white coat with an apron. 

They must be a chef. I think so. Where are Olivie and Feta?! 

But before she could assume anything more, the thumping footsteps became more audible getting nearer to Nulla’s hiding spot. She stood up frightened and pushed herself against the wall with her heart racing preparing for the worst, but it wasn’t what she’d expected.

A large and saggy rack of meat was carried inside by a large and grim yellow hand with fat fingers that dropped it on the platform, blood squelching by the impact. 

The young girl looked at the large mass in disgust, especially how the awful smell struck her nose as she clenched on it. Just then, she heard a single ding, and the dumbwaiter door closed from above leaving the girl in the dark and surprised as the food lift began to lower. As the gravity of the dumbwaiter tensed her body, she felt her heart pacing down but still felt nervous not knowing if she would face another threat at the bottom. 

But also because she and her new friends have been separated, leaving them with an enormous stranger back in the kitchen. Her instinctive feeling, however, told her they would hopefully be fine until soon. The dumbwaiter went down for what felt like two minutes until… A ding was heard and the door raised after the lift jolted to a halt.

Her attention turned to the opened door, expecting an inhuman hand to reach out for the mass of meat, but... Nothing. Releasing a sigh of relief… That’s good!

She stepped to her left still hugging the side as she pushed past the rack of strange meat, until grunting and falling out and onto another glossy floor, the echoing impact less noticeable, and feeling a sense of cold like a snowy weather.

Wait, where am I? A meat locker room? Looking around, she finds herself in some sort of storage freezer where rows of towering trolleys of meat in a variety of shapes are stored away in the chilling and pale blue atmosphere of the room. Including a fan mounted on one wall, strong ropes with hooks tied to some with meat hooked onto some, a long table in the right lower corner with dark liquid stains around the countertop, and the one lightbulb in the ceiling struggling to light the small room, as well as thin clouds hovering about with the whistling breeze and faint noises.

Wow. So many things I haven’t seen! 

She speed-walked forward in the centre observing everything closely, until reaching the large metal door with a circular window above with a small ray of light peeking. A shadow, seemingly a large figure appeared from the other side blocking the light from the window and startling the young girl. It was heard when it went away to the right. 

An unnerving feeling. She stepped forward to place her hands on the door... It’s locked!

Looking around she spots a key hanging from one of the hooks above far back, around the dumbwaiter. Looking at the racks, she then got an idea and sprinted on the cold glossy floor to the one that was closest to the key. Climbing on the clanking racks of meat, she paused at a certain level, making a jump while turning to grasp the key. She swings it off the hook as she lands down, then the key clanks.

“Yes, I knew that would work!” Her words echoed. Picking it up, she lifts the left side of her trench coat, snapping the button of a strap holding the key. Nulla then sprinted to the cold metal door, and once reaching it, she unbuckled her strap and raised the key to insert in the keyhole, clicking and turning the lock… Perfect!

With the door creaking open from inside, it introduces her to a brightly lit hallway by the fluorescent ceiling light above. The walls had a beige paint job with dark gold patterns of rhombuses that vaguely looked like eyes, with swirls connecting with spirals. In front of the walls were framed movie posters displayed in rows, showing many famous projects. 

A girl in a bathhouse, a boy in a box living with strange boxy creatures, a red and white horrifying clown, an old and decrepit man stealing children’s dreams, and a young train engineer living in a corrupt city. I’d like to watch these someday! But not the clown though!

Nothing but faint ambiances were heard as if the halls were fast asleep. 

Stepping out on the red carpeted floor, Nulla looked in both directions with puzzling thoughts. Her left showed one way leading to two other hallways, with a pair of doors with circular windows in the centre. A faint commotion was heard from behind the doors, like a large and packed dining hall, diners communicating, dishes and cutlery clinking and clattering, and thumping sounds, oddly. The right, however, was empty, only leading to the left ahead and a wooden door at the end. She glances to the left where the commotion is present. “Maybe not that way. I don’t want to meet more monsters anymore.”

Turning to the right, she began sprinting to the right, her bare feet feeling the rough texture of the floor. Reaching the door, she lowered her pace to face it. 

Noticing a large eye imprinted on the centre.

“Hmm… Why do I always keep seeing that eye?!” She murmured while looking up.

Stepping forward, she jumped to pull down the handlebar with both hands, which sat strangely low. As the young girl swings with the groaning door, darkness ensues as she drops down on a hard and dry floor. Nulla was surprised to see that she was in another backstage area, like before with The Tanglers, but much larger.

There were golden, dimly lit studio lights on tripods lined up at the back wall where many posters were hanging, revealing more black boxes forming towers, and scaffoldings touching the sky. There was also a large and lengthy background wall with the curtains on both sides of the stage.

Nulla wasn’t too surprised to see the stage since she was in a multiplex theatre. But she was glad to know that no one was here so she could explore thoroughly in this area.

“Hmm, what to look, what to look?!” She walked to the centre of the stage, hearing nothing but the whistling ambiance and her padded footsteps on the dry wooden floor. Scanning the area from top to bottom, her attention was caught by a much smaller black box that was left open and like a suitcase sitting in the open area, containing small items. Curious, as always, she stepped forward to it and crouched to see the many items. 

Children's toys! Oo, a spinny thing, I liked those!

Along with the spinner toy were building blocks, three brown kickballs, a yellow ducky, a cymbal monkey, a jewelry-making kit, a Lottie Potty doll, a toy train with three wagons, a small teddy bear, and… a thin paper bag with two eye holes cut out like a mask. Hmm, kinda weird! Suddenly, a surge of energy was heard from the other side of the background wall, with a ray of light peeking from the top. It caught Nulla’s attention staring to her left and up. She slowly rose and walked her way to the left corner. She paused before the corner, speculating what could be there. A person? Some sort of lantern? Possibilities.

Resting her left hand on the wooden wall and peeking out was a sight.

A large stage with a black velvet floor that had a spiralling galaxy and an aurora effect as well as the black iridescent curtains from the sides, as if it borrowed from the night sky. Farther was a large theatre seating area with red cushioned chairs on a bright red carpeted floor and stunning beige walls with torches in rows.

The young girl lost her wariness as she stepped out confidently too mesmerized by the charming glow of the theatre, scanning from side to side, making her feel more smaller than how her cat-sized level. Wow. This is so… Beautiful! I love it!

While walking across the stage, she looked down in confusion realising that she couldn’t feel anything beneath her feet, as if she was walking on a cloud. 

Walking on a cloud. Why does it feel like that? She lost the thought as she turned to her left to walk down the closest stairs. She stopped as soon as she touched the carpeted floor. It was all dead silent except for the faint winds and ambiances, once again. 

But then, her face tensed in perplexion. 

“Wait, am I forgetting something? I feel like I’m forgetting something.” 

She mumbled to herself. C’mon, bad memory, you have to remember. You have to! 

Before she could feel her skin producing sweat, a large boom was emitted, startling her. Thumping footsteps like elephants echo with snickers, laughter, and commotion. Her instincts told her to take a seat in a chair. Running to her left and the corner seat, she jumped up and pulled herself to sit properly with her hands interlocked, as if she was waiting for a show, but mostly because she believed it would help her blend in with the crowd.

Her heart pounded softly against her chest, but she didn’t overthink of danger.

Looking at her right, she noticed a pair of doors close by. If things go wrong, I'll go out the doors. Hopefully, no one will notice!

As the crowd of Audience Members poured in like a herd of rhinoceros’, she looked to her left and was able to see their faces and bodies. Or, what seems to be. “Why do they have such bloated and saggy bodies? Why do their faces look saggy and droopy?  Why do they have such big mouths and big teeth?” All wrong and distorted like bad drawings, with smiling grins and rotten teeth too big, stretching to their ears, and eye sockets so large and sunken with their eyes peeking out. Their torsos and limbs were as if they were to burst like balloons in their lavishing outfits.

It made her extremely uncomfortable and warry again, especially how their foul breaths can be scented from the distance as if they’ve eaten too much onions or other foods and possibly sweets. Luckily, when one Audience Member sat next to Nulla, forcefully squeezing his plump body in the groaning chair like the others left her alone, not at all interested in her.

Which made her at ease but not too much. Some of the men wore black, green, and red suits with top hats, bowlers, fedoras, and newsboys. The women wore dresses with some sparkling pink, red velvet, blue with white polka dots, and green with see-through patches. Along with pillbox caps, wide-brim hats, bows, and bowler hats with veils over their faces. But they all wore heavy makeup as if they desperately wanted to be pretty.

Nulla couldn’t tell, but she felt that they wanted to look real and feel real, like being in the higher class, fooling everyone but her, due to their twisted faces and behavior as she glanced at her dirty bare feet, urging to connect the pattern.

Who are these people? Why do they look lavish yet disgusting? I want to know the truth about them?!

Soon enough, the seats were now fully occupied as they spoke amongst each other in a language Nulla couldn’t understand. Suddenly… The lights completely shut off, causing the Audience to cease their commotion in sheer darkness. Nulla raised her sight looking side to side, wondering what would happen next. 

Just then, a spotlight from above struck the stage in the centre where a beautiful woman stood with a microphone on a stand in front. 

She wore a sparkly light red crop top with shoulderless short sleeves and a dress, with beige fur patches around her chest, sleeves, and dress. She had an X-shaped waistband holding her light red dress up, white pearlescent gloves up to her forearms, pink heels with daisy buckles, and a necklace with a golden eye hanging. 

At first, Nulla was fascinated by the woman’s appearance. But, then she noticed aspects of her that were odd. She had a natural white skin tone and glowing blonde hair that parted in the middle. But what caught her attention was her face… 

“She. Doesn’t have a face. Or, is it a mask like porcelain?! Or…Is her entire head porcelain?” 

The woman’s white face had enormous eyes too big for her baggy sockets showing muscles with pupils too small. Her nose was too small and seemingly more flat. The seam of her lips goes far back to her cheeks. Red lipsticks on lips that seem too wet. Bright pink blushing, strands of eyelashes, and eyebrows too thin and around her forehead.

The young girl was questioning who this woman was until she then spoke into her microphone as her words echoed with a slight transmission…

“Hello hello, my wonderful darlings! My name is Carlene, I will be your showrunner for this lovely evening.”

She expressed her enthusiasm with her left arm while holding the microphone in her other hand. Nulla, while feeling suspicious, felt at ease by the Showrunner’s loving nature. And so did the Audience Members as they clapped and cheered for her, then slowly stopped…

“Tonight, I and my stars have some marvelous performance and talent to present that will surely put you, lucky ladies and gentlemen, under a daze.” The young girl’s head tilted catching her last line. Under a daze..?

But before she could suspect any further, Carlene the Showrunner then turned to her left and walked back before speaking.

“Please welcome, our most famous acrobatic from mother Russia, the Amazing Bobinsky!” 

The crowd erupted in applause as layers of curtains retracted along with classical music that sounded Russian based on the accordion-sounding rhythm. Nulla put her worries aside to see a pale blue man wearing a black and gold suit and white pants with a top hat doing a headstand with one finger. His head was shaped similarly to a banana along with his large handlebar mustache, arms lengthy as a stick, and his upper torso was as fit as a gorilla’s, with stitches keeping him together. His wrists and ankles were also tied to thin strings like a puppet, and his eye sockets and wide grinning mouth pitch black and shaped like the traditional drama masks. 

One side smiling, the other frowning. Nulla was surprised and amused. Suddenly, the Amazing Bobinsky performed many incredible acrobatic flips and turns while rapidly spinning three sparkling hoops on his fingers and one boot. Everyone was so fascinated by his performance that even the young girl forgot about everything else. Just then, a large red ball with a golden star imprinted somehow appeared from the stage floor and he balanced while tap-dancing on the ball and then juggling the hoops in a spiralling circle. Making his performance much more graceful, cream-colored jumping mice in red suits and band hats suddenly hopped from the sides and circled the Performer, closing in and out and creating a star formation while playing trumpets, drums, and cymbals. Nulla couldn’t help but smile widely as she bopped her head from left to right while clapping her hands to sync with the rhythm. Eventually, the Amazing Bobinsky concluded his performance by spinning on the ball tossing the hoops in the back, and stopping abruptly to pinch the tip of his white-gloved fingers, balancing on one foot and puckering his lips, he blew a cloud of sparkles as he released it with his hand like fireworks, earning the crowd’s applause with the music ending as soon as he completed.

Nulla couldn’t help but cheer with the applause, very much entertained by 

the Amazing Bobinsky as the Performer and his circus mice bowed down and hopped with joy before the curtains closed in on him.

The golden lights in the theatre then slowly came to life again, illuminating everything. The young girl and the Audience slowly stopped clapping as soon as the Showrunner walked back to the stage with her heels clicking. She couldn’t stop smiling after witnessing an outstanding performance and wanted to see more of what Carlene could offer. 

That was so cool, I wanna see more. Please, give me more, beautiful Carlene!

She couldn’t have anticipated what was coming up next.

Carlene set her microphone stand on and spoke.

“Wowwy, me! That is some crazy flexible performance by the Amazing Bobinsky. I am so glad for all of you to have gotten to experience him and his super adorable circus mice!”

Nulla strongly interlocked her hands together while shaking them slightly eager to experience the rest of the show. She then saw a large circular brown clock with lovely decorations gradually leveling down behind the Showrunner until it stopped at a certain point. Her face tensed slightly in perplexion, feeling something about it. 

Until Carlene spoke again…

“Our next performance is something quite mysterious. We’ve been saving this for a special occasion and are so glad to finally show you all… That’s why you’re here, right..? Nothing?”

The young girl’s wide grin dropped like a heavy dumbbell as she heard the Showrunner’s words end in a sinister tone with a blank expression slowly looking directly at her.

Her body felt numb with shivers as she struggled to speak…

How does she know my nickname? How does she know who I am? 

She tried to understand more of the situation, but she then realized that she couldn’t hear anything just like before. She gripped both sides of her head as she looked around trying to figure out what was happening. Anxiety was rising in her sweating body and her heart was beating harder. Everything was slowly turning blurry and fuzzy as if she was turning blind. Then…The clock! The clock ticking I’ve heard before..! And everyone. Is this a hallucination? 

Is this real? Is it..? WHAT IS REAL?

Nulla’s face tensed as she tried to contain her rapid breathing as she moaned in fear while the clock’s ticking echoed in her ears, her body feeling tightened, and her vision turning like a spiral where even closing her eyes wouldn’t let her unsee things. She had enough. The young girl pushed herself off the seat and onto the carpeted floor still feeling the anxiety attacking her and her body. That’s when she stared up and looked around to notice not just the Showrunner, but everyone else staring directly at her with blank expressions that made her feel all the more feared.

The Showrunner’s words then echoed in her ears as she talked in a sinister tone… 

“Don’t be shy, nothing! Come join us! Join us and be one with the play! Just take a seat in that chair someday!"

No. No, no, stop it, No..!

She staggered to the doors feeling as if an unseen force was trying to pull her back. She wanted it to stop as soon as possible, she wanted to leave! That’s when she reached the doors and pushed one open with a creak… And fell face-first grunting after she exited into a hallway and the door closed behind her. She pushed herself onto her feet, still breathing excessively from the horrifying moment…”What..? What happened?” She slowly contained her breathing while standing, compensating herself. It all stopped.

The anxiety, the ticking, the blurry vision had stopped as soon as she exited the theater.

“What did she say? What was that?! I-I don’t under-”

Before she could finish, an echoing bang from a vent in front of her below startled the young girl, with it creaking and breaking open on the floor came out a girl she had almost forgotten about.

“Who are… Olivie!” She shouted with surprise. Olivie looked up at Nulla, with pale dread and tensity on her face as if she had witnessed a crime. She slumped against the wall with her hands covering her ears as she breathed heavily, not able to meet Nulla’s gaze.

Nulla couldn’t understand what had happened and why her friend was distraught.

Olivie then started to tear up, staining on her dress. Nulla slowly walked up to her and knelt slightly with her hands gently raised.

“Olivie. What’s wrong? Where’s your sister, Feta?” The girl in the olive dress struggled to meet her gaze and could only speak in a cracked voice. “I, uh…She’s not-”

They were interrupted by a loud bang from a pair of doors on the far left of the hall, 

with growls and clicks muffled from behind. Nulla gasped in shock insight of it.

“Oh no! Olivie, we need to go now! Please, get up!” 

Olivie couldn’t comply with her as she merely shot glances everywhere with her hands hovering in front. “No, no, no, no more!”

As soon as the doors burst open, Nulla’s patience was worn out by anxiety and she swiftly bent down to grab Olivie’s hand and force her to stand on her feet to run before she could even react. Coming out from the doors were The Tanglers and their manager, whom Nulla encountered before. Seeing her and Olivie sprinting, they screamed in furiousness and staggered swiftly after them. The two girls sprinted down the hall and turned to the left, passing through a cluster of boxes and popcorn maker machines as The Tanglers pushed and rammed right through, crashing down and glass shattering, and using their elongated tendrils to try and grab the girls. Nulla’s sight was too focused on escaping she almost forgot that Olivie was falling behind as if she was too weak to keep up until she glanced back. She slowed down to grab her hand to not leave her behind and dragged her with her, forcing her to sprint with her as The Tanglers kept chasing them. 

Until, turning right, they forced a stop in shock, finding a dead end of a closed door. They both looked back to the echoing screams with minimal time left. Olivie’s tear-stained face looked at Nulla, who was struggling to figure a way out with her heart racing with pure dread, her head aching, and her face tensing. No, no, we need to go, please, urgh!

But then, Olivie shouted, “Hey!” pointing to the left. Nulla looked and both girls didn’t have time to think and ran to a large gash in the wall with Olivie compacting herself through with Nulla waiting anxiously. Almost out, just a little more! 

The Tanglers’ crowded thumping footsteps like rhinos were getting closer with immense in the girl’s face. Until she got her chance to squeeze through quickly, forcing herself through the tunnel, right when The Tanglers reached the corner and were mere seconds away from using their tendrils to grab her… 

But it was too late for them, as the two young girls escaped in time. A lucky escape some might say…

It wasn’t long until after crouching through the stone and plaster tunnel, grim and bits under her bare feet uncomfortably, she dropped down on a dry wooden floor near Olivie, in the interior of the wall a dark depth ahead. The widened space almost served as a secret room due to its layout and the orange-lit candle that was left somehow by someone, illuminating it with an ember glow. Some parts of the brick walls are exposed behind the dilapidating green plaster coat, along with tiny particles dancing gently in the atmosphere, and the faint ambiance, barely capturing any muffled noises from outside, not even the furious Tanglers they’ve escaped from as they faded away.

Nulla couldn’t help but stand in place and bend down slightly with nervousness after escaping a scary encounter. She displayed her left hand on her chest feeling her heart racing like a marathon, trying to compensate for everything she had witnessed. The Showrunner, the clock, her vision. What were they linked to? What was she speaking about?

Until, after calming herself, she hears sobbing. Looking up, she notices Olivie sitting against the wall with her face buried in her knees and her arms wrapped around her. She still didn’t know why she was upset, nor why Feta wasn’t with her. But she didn’t want to fuss too much and wanted to know what had happened.

“Olivie..? What’s wrong?” She said stepping slowly to her and then slowly sitting on her knees. She could barely speak clearly as she struggled to meet Nulla’s gaze with bloodshot eyes and tears staining her dress and cheeks.

“Where were you? I was worried about you!” Speaking in a struggling cracked voice, burying her face again in her knees. Nulla’s face loosened with slight guilt, feeling that she must’ve made her upset for forgetting about her and Feta, and not understanding.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I just forgot about us separating!”

“It’s not that!” Olivie responded louder. Nulla was still confused. 

If I wasn’t the problem, then what was? She decided to remove her fox mask completely, raising it off her head with both hands and resting it on her right.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Olivie’s sobbing slowly stopped as she looked at Nulla’s true face with surprise and comfort. 

She sniffled and wiped her tears off her face first before speaking while glaring down. 

Nulla only stayed in place on her knees, patiently waiting to listen…

“I.. I-I was with Feta at one moment where there were these big, fat people in a eating room. We jumped in a cart and that’s why we were there. And we tried to run. We tried to escape. There were so many of them, very big, and just wanted to eat everything. They… They fell on the ground seeing us, and we ran to find a place to hide, until… One of them in a purple suit took Feta and he… He took her while she screamed, and… And, he ate her! He ate my sister! My sister! She’s gone, she’s all gone!”

Olivie ended, breaking down in shouting with tears and hitting her knees before burying in them again. Nulla’s face turned pale, knowing that someone she had met ended up having a very unfortunate fate. But what was hurtful to her the most was how Olivie lost someone so dear to her. Her sister. Her only family in this world. 

She couldn’t help but slump her gaze down in sadness and mournfulness, looking at her hands on her knees, remembering how she guided them to the kitchen…

 It. It was because of me, wasn’t it?! The kitchen… I led them there! And why it happened?

They remained in silence for a long while until Nulla then spoke gently…

“I’m… Sorry, Olivie. I’m sorry for not understanding. I’m sorry Feta is gone. I’m just sorry.”

She then bent forward to place her hand on Olivie’s to comfort her. She raised her gaze to her and both made eye contact, seeing each other’s depression. Until Olivie pushed herself forward to sit on her knees, still glancing down. Nulla embraced her in a hug and she responded with her arms wrapped around too and their eyes closed. They remained in a warm hug and solitude with each other’s comfort. Not letting go. Not feeling alone…

…

They both slowly let go and sat in place not knowing what to do next. Nulla didn’t want to leave her here any longer. Not after what had happened.

“Olivie? What do you want to do now?”

“... I want to get out of here. I don’t want to be here anymore!”

“Ok. I’ll help you get out then.”

Nulla gently took both of her hands and helped her rise to her feet as she did. She then bent down to take her fox mask and readjust it over her face again. Holding one hand gently, Nulla guides Olivie through the rest of the inner walls, not rushing for her sake.

It’s going to be okay! It’s going to be okay!

The light of the candle slowly faded from the distance while trailing on the creaking floor, but with still a touch of light, it wasn’t long til their hands parted when they both looked down to see a small drop, with the rest of the wooden floor and a grate with a hinged flap on the wall. Nulla crouched to drop down first with a grunt, then came Olivie, her head still heavy. Nulla looked at her, still feeling sympathetic. She may as well be all left for her and hopes to take on the responsibility as a sister herself. 

“We’ll find a way out of here, Olivie. I promise!”

She said, rubbing her back. Olivie couldn’t utter a word. She only crossed her arms on her chest. Nulla didn’t pressure it. She bent down to pull on the handle as it creaked, but then Olivie stepped to help her as the hinge screeched open with both girls staggering back. Olivie mostly.

“I hope this is the way out!” Olivie spoke softly.

“Me too… Wait here for a bit!”

Nulla crouched in first through the grate, dropping down on a small desk in a dark area with only minimal golden light shining behind the various mannequins and drawers with lavishing dresses being worn and poking out from each drawer. Many dresses were blue, green, red, pink, black, and violet with some being velvet, chromed, shiny, or with either sparkles or white fur patches, and they all included the same rough texture of the parchment paper from the kitchen. Worse than she thought. Along with bottles of perfumes, small boxes, and books formed towers, and lovely heels and slippers sparkling like the dresses were tucked away in boxes and piled near the drawers. Hm. This must be a dressing room, but it’s too big. A storage room? Everything here makes it so real that it's easy to be drawn by the fun.

It was mainly silent with little ambiance, faint wind, and other noises as if it couldn’t speak…

“Olivie, you can come now!” Turning back to speak.

After Nulla dropped to the wooden floor, echoing, Olivie followed behind repeating her movement. The impact of their bare feet hitting the wood echoed slightly but not like the kitchen from before. Nulla was questioning where they were, seeing how dark the room was. The mannequins and drawers were a few feet apart from them and close together like a wall but not at all organized.

Nulla felt suspicious about the supposed storage room, but she wanted to carry on for Olivie’s sake. She turned her attention to her, seeing how she was becoming more relaxed with less tension on her face, but still traumatized by her heavy head like a dumbell.

“Oi!” She whispered, offering her hand to her and she took it firmly, allowing Nulla to guide her to their left since the right only led to a corner with another mannequin. They walked casually along the path between the mannequins and drawers and the room wall, 

with Nulla seeing more posters on the wall to their right. Only to her surprise, it was The Showrunner in all of them, posing in various dresses like a celebrity star. 

She must’ve performed as well in The Theatre. Possibly the owner of it.

“What’s wrong?” Olivie asked, meeting Nulla’s gaze.

“Nothing. I thought I’d seen these before.”

“Oh. Have you seen her before?” 

Nulla glanced down ever so slightly with chills coursing through her… “Well, I-”

But before she could finish, the echo of a creaking door emitted from a distance, causing both girls to halt out of shock, gasping. 

The supposed door creaked again with a click echoing, along with a woman humming a song and casual walking of supposed high heels clicking.

They couldn’t see where it came from as they looked around the mannequins and drawers. Nulla looked forward and let go of Olivie’s hand, seeing a large space of golden light in front of them from the left, with a thin shadow from their perspective moving up and down. 

They both crouched down, Nulla turning her face to Olivie, pointing her index finger to the nose of her fox mask and receiving a nod. 

Turning forward, she crept slowly, peaking her head from a drawer that was at an acute angle, until she was able to get a glimpse of the area.

No… Not her!

From the corner, she was able to see another part of the dressing room with more mannequins wearing dresses, illuminated by a ceiling lightbulb above with the same golden light. They surrounded, from a distance, a woman in a light red dress and crop top, sitting on a chair in front of a desk and mirror with lit golden lightbulbs and makeup products displayed.

It was her again… Carlene, The Showrunner!

Her body felt numb again at the sight of the horrific woman. She was dreadfully hoping not to encounter her again, but, luck wasn’t on her side. She was braiding her hair, humming a song, loving her lavishing appearance. Nulla stared at the women for too long, causing Olivie to sake her by the shoulder, possibly to tell her they should continue. She got out of her trance and looked at her, understanding the assignment. She looked forward, seeing the rest of the way from a fair enough distance with a barrel close for hiding. 

She turned to Olivie, signalling her to wait in her place, not knowing what could happen. 

She took a deep breath before proceeding… “You’re okay, Nulla!”

Crouching, she slowly walked to the barrel, planning to hide behind it. She kept eying 

The Showrunner, her heart beat harshly as one foot stepped ahead on the hard wooden floor.

Carlene didn’t suspect anything, even when the young girl reached the barrel 

remaining in her posture and turning to gesture Olivie to come. 

She noticed how she was slightly hesitant but nodded to comply.

 Suddenly… Carlene’s humming abruptly stopped, catching both girl’s attention. Nulla felt a shockwave of goosebumps running through her veins, beginning to breathe as she peaked from around the barrel. “…Olivie, c’mon!” She whispered.

She can feel that Olivie also felt something was wrong. Something coming…

“I… I can’t. I feel-”

Before Olivie’s words finished, bursting in between them was The Showrunner, 

startling both girls gravely as they fell back and shouted in fear with many mannequins and garments falling on the floor. She snarled at both girls like a raccoon, 

until looking at Nulla, she spoke. “Found you!”

The young girl in the fox mask remained sitting on the floor with her arms supporting her torso, not knowing what to do with fear interfering with her response. 

Fight, flight, or freeze?! Until, seeing Olivie on the floor like her, through the gap below a fallen mannequin, she could only shout, “RUN, OLIVIE, JUST RUN! Don’t come back!” 

as she swiftly turned and brought herself to her feet, beginning to sprint, no time to see if her friend had gotten away as The Showrunner staggered swiftly after her.

She ran down the rest of the clear path with The Showrunner chasing her from behind, her heels clicking rapidly, hissing like a snake, and screaming when she tried to snatch her with her long arm. The young girl then darted to the left behind a large wardrobe. She passed it just in time before the woman could crush her with it, pushing it down and crashing on the floor along with more plastic mannequins, screaming in rage. 

Her heart was racing as she breathlessly kept sprinting through the cluster of mannequins and boxes. Not knowing where to go, she enters a dark and empty room as a last resort, turning to her right to push the door close with both hands and quickly lifting a wooden plank beside the door to hinder the knob from underneath. She stepped back, breathing in a high effort with hands on knees supporting her… “That was… Too close!”

She was hoping it was the end of it, right? Unfortunately not.

Nulla stared at the door when… Three large bangs spooked her. A shadow from beneath glared at her. “NOTHING! Are you there? OPEN, YOU BRAT!!!”

Her heart was racing again as anxiety attacked her body. She held her head with both hands and tears welling in her face as she looked around for an escape, but it was too dark for her to see. No. No. No, no, please. Please, just stop! No!

But the banging didn't stop. 

The pounds that thrashed from the other side. 

The wickedness of that woman.

There was nothing left to do for Nothing.

- - <0> - -

Very big thanks to @laupiehouppette for collaborating with me

If you would like to read more of 'My Little Nightmares: Stories of the Little Ones,' be sure to visit Little Nightheories at www.youtube.com/@LittleNightheories6 for read-aloud videos. Or, you can also read Chapter 1 and others on 

Our Own Archive (Little_Nightheories), Wattpad (@LittleNightheories6), or Tumblr (littlenightheories6) 

to personally read the story yourself and find multiple Little Nightmares fanfiction stories.

My Little Nightmares: Stories of the Little Ones is a 6ix part short story series where it involves 6ix little children from the creative mind of Little Nightheories, venturing through the world of Little Nightmares that is called the Nowhere. Their individual stories reveal more secrets and environments that expand the world of our childhood fears.

Up next: Chapter 4: The Girl in the Purple Dress

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Devourer of Hearts 1/3

Ready for a shortfic? I know you are!

Summary: Reader was part of Arthur's cult and once she finds out he's abandoned in the psychiatric hospital, she does everything in her will to save him, unaware of his new condition.

Words: 3065

Warnings: None... for now.

With a smile, the head nurse held out a hand to you, saying:

"Welcome aboard, (Y/N)." 

You greeted her back, jovial, and then she took you with her to see the building, a place with a friendly, quiet atmosphere where, although there was a lot of activity, it seemed to heed its reputation as one of the most prestigious psychiatric institutions in the country.

"I saw that you were a fellow at Hengleton, how was your experience there?" your boss asked you as you crossed the reception hall.

"It was... complicated" you replied "We had a weird time, with a lot of patients coming in all of a sudden."

"The world went through five painful years, it was natural something like that..." together you crossed a double door "This is the recreation room, patients come here and perform recreational activities, alone or in the company of a supervisor and other inmates" the woman greeted a nurse, who was watching at a safe distance a group watching TV "We have a wide audiovisual selection that does not cause them alterations, nature documentaries are very good, or some old movies too"

You arrived in another very similar room, the same white walls and led tubes illuminating from the ceiling, although there was even less noise there.

"This is the rest room, many times the inmates are not... let's say, comfortable socializing with others, and they come here to spend some time outside their dormitories."

At a glance you understood that the true nature of that room was to contain the less vivacious patients, very old people possibly suffering from Alzheimer's or senile dementia, and some who despite their youth had absent, listless expressions, as if their mind was out of this world. The sight was tormenting, but you remained composed, and finished the tour a half hour later, when the boss assigned you with a colleague to begin your shift.

"I'm Evelyn" she introduced herself "It's almost lunchtime, you'll help me deliver the trays and meet some patients, are you ready?"

"Sure" you smiled. The two of you marched into the kitchen, where you received a cart full of trays, most with soft foods and small glasses with plain water, marked with acronyms on one rim.

"The acronyms help us know which patient each tray is for," she explained, "You know, some have special diets. Watch first, okay, the interns are very nice, but sometimes they don't seem to realize you're in front of them, so be patient."

As a demonstration, Evelyn took one of the trays marked R.F. and handed it to a woman who must have been in her seventies, whose short, curly, white hair made her look as if she were wearing a very fluffy cap.

"Hello, Rosie, time for lunch," the nurse greeted her. The old woman's eyes traveled very slowly from Evelyn to the tray, and after a few seconds she smiled without saying a word "Have you got your dentures in? Let me see..." with utmost gentleness, Evelyn bent down to face Rosie "I see, where did you leave your dentures?"

"My dentures?" asked the old lady softly "Oh... I think I've forgotten them..."

"Is it in your room, dear?" noticing the patient's concern, the nurse smiled at her and gently rested a hand on her shoulder "Don't worry, we'll look for it together, how about we look in your pockets first?"

You averted your gaze to the trays, and as discreetly as you could, you checked the acronyms on each one as Evelyn helped Rosie put in her dentures. Your heart jumped every time you saw an "A," and deflated when any letter followed, until at last....

A.H

Without a second thought, you picked up the tray and asked:

"Evelyn, do you mind if I take this one?"

Your companion reached over to check the name.

"Sure, let me see..." she craned her neck and then, pointed to a table in the distance, in front of which was a wheelchair "That's the man over there, the one with the long hair."

You nodded, and when you turned around you felt your heart clench, and with every step you took you silently prayed you weren't wrong. It had been so hard to get there, asking hundreds of people and collecting favors, something you never imagined you would ever need, all for that moment....

In front of the table, there was a small book open with images that you recognized immediately, especially because one of the pages was almost completely dominated by the drawing of a falcon, touched by a crown in the shape of a bulb that was combined with another, more flattened and that had a long curled strip. The man reading it had light brown hair, mixed with several strands of gray falling over his shoulders, and seemed genuinely engrossed in the images in front of him.

You would have recognized him even in the middle of the darkest night, and you had to stifle a shout of joy and instead call out to him softly:

"Hello... it's time for lunch, Mr. Harrow."

The man slowly turned his head in your direction, and now you were left in no doubt that it was him. For a moment, you feared he was going to commit a rash act, his condition was not deplorable, but he was nothing like the powerful and steady person you knew, and you felt an enormous pity.

"I..." you pressed your lips together, and pointed to the book "Excuse me, I'll take this back for a moment" you put the tray down on the table and stretched out a hand to take the book, Harrow's eyes followed you, in a silent plea that hurt your soul, but you could say nothing. Silence was your only ally there, and you pushed the tray in front of him, glad that, at least, they respected in that place his eating habits "Here you go, enjoy your meal."

You thought you saw disappointment on his face, and that made you feel worse. You looked around, Evelyn and another nurse were handing out more trays, busy with their patients, and you mustered up the courage to lean in a little and whisper to the rush:

"Don't be afraid...I'm going to help you, Arthur Harrow."

He, who was preparing to take the first bite, glanced sideways at you, his eyes now holding a spark of curiosity, and you smiled at him.

"(Y/N)?" the voice of Evelyn forced you to join in "Everything all right over there?"

"Yes, everything in order" you replied, hiding your frustration that you had no excuse to stay together with Arthur any longer. 

After a few hours, you tried to keep your role as a busy nurse and attended to all the directions and advice Evelyn gave you, even though it meant having to give your attention to other patients. Casually, you decided to ask about some of them, showing interest in their stories until you got to the real question:

"And...the man by the table, what about him? I see he reads a lot."

"Arthur?" replied Evelyn "Yeah, he's quite a case, seems he had a nervous breakdown or something a couple of months ago, a friend of his brought him here but we couldn't find out much more. He's actually a good man, he never gets upset about anything."

"No, I would imagine not" you muttered. She was right about that, Harrow never lost his cool, even in times of great stress, and it was something that fascinated you about him. Well, that and many other things. 

"We never have any problems with him, although sometimes he talks about... weird things, you know, about a trip he took to Egypt and stuff like that. Anyway" Evelyn sighed, looking at the big clock with hands on the wall "It's almost time to get them to bed, how about helping me with Arthur today?"

You made a huge effort to hide your excitement. After Evelyn told you which room was Harrow's, you walked slowly over to him and gently called out to him:

"Mr. Harrow, it's time for bed."

You rested your hand on his shoulder, as you had seen your companion do, and Arthur's eyes went to you. His lethargic expression gradually changed to one of surprise and, fearing he was going to say something that would give you away, you took the brake off the wheelchair and led him down the hall, purposely passing Evelyn's side to greet her with a thumbs-up.

You walked down one of the narrow corridors, feeling sick in that white, windowless labyrinth, full of misery and pain that made you think of horrible things, you passed by some guards, and none seemed to recognize you or Arthur, so you wondered where his followers were supposed to be, those that others assured were watching over him in that place. Arriving at his room, you asked a guard to let you in, and turned on the lights; it wasn't a bad place, whoever had left him there (it couldn't have been a member of your extended group, they would never have allowed him to end up in a mental hospital after all he did for all of you) had been delicate enough to make sure he was comfortable. 

"Here we are" you said loudly, so that the guard still outside wouldn't suspect anything "Do you need me to help you?" you stood next to him, holding out a hand which Arthur took at once, but instead of getting up, he examined it silently, his eyes fixed on them as his thumb caressed your fingers and knuckles, as if it was the first time he had the opportunity to inspect a hand. You shuddered, you had received the touch of those hands many times and it filled you with excitement to feel it again, your eyes went to the door and you saw that the guard had left it ajar, and in a rush you planted yourself in front of Arthur, kneeling down.

"Arthur Harrow" you called to him "It's me, it's (Y/N), remember me? I used to live in the commune here in London...can you remember?"

The man gasped.

"(Y/N)" he repeated slowly, and an exhausted smile appeared on his lips "(Y/N), my dear...what are you doing here?"

You exhaled a sigh of relief and felt your eyes sting with weeping.

"Mr. Harrow!" and, as you had done before, you took his hand and kissed it. Arthur stroked your head.

"No, (Y/N), don't, I am not worthy of such a thing...I have failed, I have failed all of you."

"That's not true, you did everything for us. When I found out you were here I couldn't believe it...how did you...?"

Arthur twisted his lips.

"Things in Egypt didn't go as we planned, two people ruined everything and... now I'm just an ephemeral, unworthy vessel for our goddess."

"I beg your pardon?" you blinked, confused "Ammit? Did you find her?"

He nodded. You heard footsteps outside, and hurriedly sat up.

"Mr. Harrow, I'm going to help you, I promise, I just need time but I swear... this isn't over."

"Darling..." he murmured, taking your hand with a sad smile "Didn't you hear me? It's over, there's nothing more we can do."

"Don't say that, don't lose hope, you..." you swallowed saliva "You told me to never stop trusting that in the end everything would work out and that... that I was going to find my purpose"

"Forget it" he insisted, dejected. The door opened and you met the guard again.

"Any problems?" he asked, obviously addressing you. 

"No, none... we were just talking" you replied.

"We'll lock the doors now" and he walked away. You looked at Arthur again as he on his own sat on the bed.

"I'm going to get him out of here, I promise" you said.

"(Y/N), do me a favor... Forget everything, forget our plans and forget about me..."

"No, that never" 

"You have to do it so that you can live happily."

"No! My happiness is with you, you protected me, you gave me a home..."

"I can't do anything more for you, my dear, I learned to accept my fate."

Frustrated, you left the room. Arthur was sad, you understood, abandoned as he was by those who swore to follow him to death, but you were not like them. You were going to stay by his side forever, you were going to save him no matter the cost.

.

As the days went by, you memorized a lot of things, the day and night schedules, the round changes, the emergency exits and even the position of the security cameras; every day, you left something new in your locker so that no one would find it too strange, and since it was never about forbidden objects, the guard at the entrance stopped inspecting your backpack with great care. During that same time, you continued in your role without anything giving you away, and Evelyn even commented that, as energetic as you were, perhaps you would feel better in the recreation room.

"Nothing exciting ever happens here" she explained "I studied Geriatrics and believe me I love my job, but sometimes a little action doesn't hurt."

"Why don't we ever take them to the garden?" you asked. On one of your inspections you discovered that there was a large garden where patients could have fun and above all, receive visitors. 

"Sometimes we do, but..." Evelyn shrugged "Well, it's almost nap time, I'll be back in a moment, could you stay and keep an eye out?"

"Sure" you agreed. Every afternoon at about three o'clock, the patients on that ward were mostly led to their chambers for a medicated nap. You approached towards Harrow, who seemed less lively than usual, just as he inadvertently pushed a glass of tea that spilled its contents on the table.

"Mr. Harrow" you whispered as you reached his side. He nonchalantly pointed to the tea and muttered:

"I... I thought it was sand."

"Mr. Harrow, can you understand me?"

"Of course, my dear, I'm listening."

"Today's the day" you informed him, hoping he understood what you meant "It's all set, we're getting out of here."

"Where will we go?" he asked.

"Home."

He looked at you sorrowfully.

"You have no idea what you're doing, (Y/N), you put yourself in grave danger."

"I planned everything very carefully, even if I fail today, I have a plan B, but you won't be here much longer, I promised you."

"(Y/N), do you need help?" another nurse who sometimes switched shifts with Evelyn had arrived next to you. You smiled, feigning reassurance.

"Sorry, it's just... we had a little accident" and you pointed to the tea leftovers.

"Oh. That's okay, I'll take care of it, do you mind taking him to his room, do you know which one it is?"

"No problem, Fred, you're very kind."

But you directed your steps not to the dormitories, but to the garden, from which several patients were coming and going, watched by guards and nurses with utmost tranquility. No one stopped you, as you planned, and you steered the wheelchair to a bench under a tree.

"They'll bring everyone inside in ten minutes" you announced in a whisper to Arthur "Then we'll take the emergency exit next to the cafeteria."

"They'll stop us, I hope" 

"No, they won't, because you''ll be wearing a disguise and will be walking out of here"

Arthur looked at you in surprise, and you smiled, proudly.

"Remember how you once told me I should think about lessons learned from my past life? I thought that sneaking around might do the trick eventually, and it turned out it did."

Three o'clock in the afternoon arrived, and you immediately took a small package tightly tied to one of the branches of the tree, from which you took out a pair of glasses, a jacket and some sweatpants, not the most suitable clothes, but it would be easy for Harrow to pass unnoticed with them. When you handed them to him, the man muttered:

"I don't know what to say... I still don't think it's a good idea."

"Well it is to me, I can't let you spend the rest of your life here."

"Has it occurred to you that it's the safest thing for everyone?"

"That doesn't matter, I'm going to protect you just like you protected me."

Arthur's face sweetened, and he reached out a hand to caress your cheek.

"You are a wonderful person, (Y/N), how I wish I could do justice to your generosity and courage."

You ducked your head, embarrassed.

"No, Mr. Harrow, if you see all that in me it is only because you made me into someone good."

You put on his glasses and a cap to hide his hair, the jacket and pants went on top of the hospital clothes, and before anyone went to see if there were any stragglers left in the garden, you pushed the wheelchair behind some bushes and, taking Arthur by the arm, walked to the emergency exit. 

"Aren't there any guards outside?" asked Arthur.

"And if there are, I'll take care of it" you affirmed, squinting. You opened the door with your heart in your throat from so much anxiety, and discovered to your relief that the space was clear, a single guard was in his booth too far away to clearly distinguish Arthur, and with that thought, you tugged on his hand "Come on, it's now or never."

"(Y/N), before you continue, I need you to understand what you are doing."

"I understand perfectly" you replied firmly "I'm saving the man I love."

For a moment you both froze after your words. You hurriedly averted your gaze and, after clearing your throat, invited him to keep walking; Harrow was still recovering from your words when a low, slow, powerful voice growled somewhere in the back of his head:

"Love, she says... what an interesting turn of events..."

As you hailed a cab a block away from the hospital, in it, a man dressed in a suit and wearing a cap obscuring his features was returning to the interior of a white limousine, holding back his rage. 

[ask-de-writer]

WIND MEETS THE ROM : Part 10 of 27 :

MLP Fan Fiction

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

WIND MEETS THE ROM

Part 10 of 27

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover art by @wind-the-mama-cat

54212 words

© 2023 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 06/01/18

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story? Read from Part 1, here!

///////////////////////

While she was speaking, her soft midnight blue magic, shot through with stars, had picked up her half of the double tree and was expertly securing her harness to it.

Wind complimented, “That is a beautiful harness. The leather work is superb. Is it an heirloom?”

Midnight chuckled, “I hope not. I made this one about fifty years ago. It is possible that I may gift it on to some deserving horse, but not yet. When I do, THEN it will become an heirloom.”

It was only a few more minutes before all of the Rom were hitched up in the caravan and ready to take to the road.

It was Tia who called the starting cadence, “Lean Left! Lean Right! Pull Left! Pull Right! Pull! Pull!” The whole caravan moved forward smoothly onto the road. She called, “Two Green Vines!”

The Rom began to sing the first of the many road songs that helped the kilometers pass under hoof and wheel.

Besides singing along, Wind listened with care. Far more than simple vocabulary and pronunciation was revealed in those songs. The Rom's very attitudes and ways of thinking were revealed as the songs unfolded.

She was fascinated by the fact that, though the Guards did send one pegasus flying ahead to scout for potential threats, they stayed quietly and inconspicuously following behind. They did have their battle kit carried at the ready.

Almost predictably, she could hear Greenforest griping about how they should be marching up in front, to clear the road of undesirables. She smiled to herself as she figuratively patted herself on the back for being able to follow both the Gyptian of the Road Songs and without effort, also follow the Equestrian of the Guards.

The afternoon was passing uneventfully when they came to the Haymarket Royal Road Section Gate. One of the ponies watching the gate made a fuss as his supervisor reached past him and tripped the gate opening mechanism.

He reminded his counterpart, “Rom are always free, Curly Fries. You know that. Trying to get a toll from them is a fool's game. YOU WILL GET CAUGHT. Besides, the Royal Road Police Station is just over there to make sure that you would not get away with it.”

They passed through without incident. Wind giggled as Curly Fries noticed, “They got a detachment of the Royal Guard! Why would the Guard be with these Rom?”

And the laconic answer, “Because, somewhere in one or two of those harnesses there is a Royal Princess or two, going incognito, that's why!”

At the first Wayside of the Haymarket Road Section, they found a blue pony with a gray mane and tail waiting for them. “Evening, there, Marchhare's band, right? I got a bit of problem with my wagon, if you could spare the time to look at it.

“Whether you can or not, I got a bag of dried apricots to contribute to dinner if you are willing to share.”

It was Hanar, in the position of lead for the whole caravan who smiled and replied, “Sure, Waller. We can do that. Is it a bad wheel or something else?”

She turned into the Wayside without hesitation and as she did, informed Wind, “This is Waller Left Leg. He is always polite, though sometimes a bit plain spoken. Nearly always has something to add to the dinner too. We would rather be late to a fair than leave him stranded by the road.”

While they were breaking down the hitches and stowing the parts, Wind saw that Waller was pitching in to help them and no horse had any problem with it.

Soon camp was set up and dinner baking was underway. One stallion, a dapple gray with black mane and tail gave Rose a kiss and stated, “I need the foals for now. They need to learn about repairing pony made things.”

Rose chuckled as she replied, “Take them, then. I know that you will teach them well, husband of mine.”

He turned to Waller and asked, “Shall we look over your caravan? Is it the wheels again, so soon?”

Waller shrugged, “Wish it was. The main load support beam under the box is cracked pretty bad. If I have to have it done in Haymarket, it will set me back at least 70, maybe 80 golden bits. They will have to take the box off and craft a new beam to fit.”

“I see. We will certainly look at it and get you at least a temporary fix. Might possibly be able to do a full repair. Can't say for sure until I see it, OK, Waller?”

The blue pony shrugged. “Got to be. At least I am not in a hurry with this load. Seed grain for next year's planting. On my way to Haymarket. Was going to drop by the Fair too.”

“You know the drill, Waller. The foals all have to watch. It is part of their education.” The dappled stallion let out a sharp whistle.

All over the camp, foals stopped what they were doing and gathered about. The stallion gestured for Wind to join them. “Marchhare has you with the foals for now, Wind. Come and watch, along with them, while we see how we can help Waller.”

As they got close, Wind's eye was taken at once by the rough weathered grain standing up along the boards of Waller's wagon. It had some knots in the wood, too. She quietly absorbed her first lesson about the difference in woodwork between pony and Rom. All of the Rom woodwork was smooth and perfect, with no knots or imperfections of any sort.

The true meaning of a minor swear word that she had been hearing from time to time slowly sank in. She saw at first hand what they meant when they said, “As bad as a pony made wheel,” except that Waller's wheels, while quite differently made from the wheels of the Rom, were sort of mixed. From the hubs out, the spokes and rims were the rough looking work of ponies. The hubs showed the smooth and perfect work of the Rom.

Quietly nudging Hanar, Wind asked in Gyptian, “Why are his hubs so well done but the rest of his wheels so rough?”

Hanar agreed, “We rebuilt his hubs and axles, doing it the pony way, except that we put in sleeve bushings of polished iron on both the axle ends and in the hubs. We did it only a few months ago. I see that he is being careful to properly grease them. If he stays that careful, they should last him for several years.”

Wind nodded her understanding.

The dappled stallion lowered himself carefully and angled his head to get his horn under the wagon. Wind saw his magic brought into play in some fashion.

He eased himself out from under the box and told the foals, “First, each of you examine the big beam running down the center of the caravan. Then tell me what you see.”

It only took a short time because the foals crowded under, three at a time! “How could they have done that? The grain is flat ways! It has to run up and down for any real strength!” “Did you feel the size of that crack? Near a third the length of the beam!” “It has knots near the middle, where they will most weaken it.”

“Right! All of you. Now, it is Wind's turn. I do not know if you have magic to help you spot problems or not, but let me know if you find anything that the others might have missed.”

Nodding, Wind scooted under the failing wagon. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the night vision that was her cat's heritage. She reported, “I do not see anything about the beam that the others did not. However, three of the bottom boards of the box show signs of cracking. If you can fix them too, it would be a good idea.”

The stallion smiled his praise as he told the rest, “Did you hear what Wind spotted? Anytime that there is damage to a part of a caravan, always look to see if it has caused other problems too.

“If this problem is not fixed, Waller could lose a lot of his load onto the road.”

One of the colts snorted, “We could have harvested the grain from the road, next year after it sprouted!”

The stallion snickered and then, in Equestrian, told Waller, “We can repair the beam. You have three boards of the bottom of the caravan's box that are cracking. We can repair them too, if you want us to.”

Waller nodded slowly. “Do what you think is needful. I trust you to do it right, Myest.”

Myest began ordering the foals, “Shehan, go and bring my pot of the special glue and its brush. Callin, go and bring me my second kit of planks, the centimeter and a half ones. Hanar, bring me two caravan jacks. Sando, go and bring me a lot of the fire wood to use as supports and braces.”

Foals scattered to their errands. From his saddlebag, Myest pulled a large case. Opened, it showed an astonishing array of razor sharp wood working tools, neatly held in lightly oiled leather.

Hanar was one of the first back. She leaned the stout caravan jacks against the side of Waller's wagon. Without being asked, and clearly not showing off, she used her magic to lift the whole side of the wagon, tilting it to a good working angle and setting the jacks.

Young Sando came trotting up, many balks of firewood carried in his magic. Myest began showing him where to set them and how to brace them to hold the work that was to come safely stable.

Wind was watching closely too. This was all new to her. In her adventures, she had used wagons from time to time, but she just harnessed a beast of burden and drove them to where she needed them. She had never had occasion to see how they were made.

Myest began to chop out a substantial part of the beam using a chisel and adze. He cut it away in steps, so that each step had a longish overlap to the beam. The last cut left about a centimeter and a half of the original beam.

Wind sensed that something was off a bit when he announced in Equestrian, “OK, we can just glue this part back together.” The brush slopped busily and he applied clamps across the beam to hold the cracked part together. He ran his hoof over the whole area where the crack had been. Wind noticed that it had become invisible. He released those clamps and cut and fitted a board into the next step out. He repeated what Wind was now certain was a ruse with the glue. When he was done running his hoof over it, the joints were invisible except at the outside edges, where she now deduced, he was leaving signs that the beam was repaired. He repeated the trick several times to finish fixing the beam.

He cut patch boards to fit over the bed cracks that Wind had spotted, using the same ruse about the special glue.

He left those boards solidly braced by balks of firewood and told Waller, “We need to leave it like it is overnight so that the glue can finish setting up. We will let it down in the morning and you can be on your way right after breakfast.”

Wind had noticed an absence of sorts. The Royal Guard were not making a nuisance of themselves. Even Greenforest was being quiet.

The evening devolved into what Wind was coming to accept as a typical Rom evening. Some were playing several sizes of lyre, flutes and those deceptively simple seeming double drums while others were dancing. Wind snickered to herself as she saw that they were working on her slide step in their dances.

Off to one side, Wind saw that Rose and Marchhare had benches set up and were industriously working at crafts. Rose had many sheets of thin wood in a wide variety of colors and grains. She was carefully trimming them and forming them into neat boxes of many sizes and styles. Some had trays with dividers or other set ups inside. Wind was impressed by the sheer speed and skill with which Rose created her boxes.

Respectfully examining one, Wind commented, “I can't see any joint except where the design shows one. I watched you make this one. I did not see you use any glue. How did you do it?”

<== PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction