#and maybe I need to corner coworkers before they leave and ask what today's crisis is and how to address

[isfjmel-phleg]

😱

[favefandomimagines]

I Bought A Ring (e.b.)

Summary: Abby’s back and Buck doesn’t know how to handle the news. And neither do you. 

AN: i’m still PISSED that abby came back even if only for an episode, my poor buck was so hurt ): this was something i had deep in my drafts and now that buck is blowing up it seemed like a good time to post it!

there is a buck fic similar to this and i just wanna say that i did not copy or steal the idea. i’ve had this in my drafts for months since season 3 ended so no one stole anyone’s idea! if you wanna check out their fic their username is @lotsoflovefromlea and the fic is titled ‘Second Best’ it’s really really good

You didn’t think you’d have to face the day when Buck’s past came back to haunt him. You were hoping it would stay in the past and you would be his future. But life has a funny way of putting us to the test. 

After the train crash, and Buck saw Abby again, he had been acting distant. Distant enough for you to notice that something was wrong. It wasn’t hard to notice, especially when the two of you live together. 

He would rarely talk when you had the same shift at the 118, there was no conversation during dinner and he’d come to bed long after you had already fallen asleep. 

It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even remember the last time he kissed you or touched you. And you had enough of the maltreatment. 

You exited the shower and saw him standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. You walked down the stairs and stood across from him, the tension between the two of you painfully obvious. 

“What’s been going on with you?” You asked, breaking the ice. “What do you mean?” He asked, not meeting your gaze. “Seriously? Buck, you’ve been acting like I killed your dog for three weeks since the train crash. What the hell is going on?” You explained. 

Buck sighed before looking up at you. He knew he couldn’t keep secrets from you. Including ones that could possibly change your relationship. 

“Abby reached out to me. She wanted to meet up to talk.” He said. Buck could tell by the way your right eyebrow was raised and your eyes narrowed that you were not happy. “Really? And you went?” You asked. “Yeah.” Buck answered quietly. 

You laughed bitterly before walking around the counter back towards the stairs. “God, you just can’t seem to let her go, can you?” You started. “It’s been, what? Two years? Two years since she left you for her ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ experience and got engaged? And who was the one who never left your side? Me. It was me, Evan and even now, you can’t seem to realize how terrible she was to you. Face it, you were her midlife crisis and you fell in love with her and never fell back out. All while making me fall in love with you.” You finished. 

Sure you were a tad bit cruel, but it was what he needed to hear. No one wanting to be the one who had to pop his perfect bubble when it came to Abby. 

“I stayed with you when you were suing the department for christ sake! And I can’t do it anymore, Evan.” You added. There it was again. His dreaded first name. The name you never used unless you were beyond angry with him. And he hated hearing it come from your lips. “Y/N, what do you mean?” He asked. 

Fear was coursing through his body as he waited for you to finally leave him. After everything he put you through, Abby was the last straw. 

“I mean, maybe we should take a break. Until you figure out what it is you really want.” You answered. It wasn’t something you wanted nor did you think it would ever happen. “No. No, no, Y/N, don’t do this.” He begged, walking towards you. “I have too. Since she came back, this relationship has been one sided and I don’t deserve that.” You said. 

“Please, Y/N, I love you.” Buck told you. “Do you? Because you have a funny way of showing it.” You replied. You swiftly grabbed your keys and your purse and made a path towards the exit. “So this is it? You’re breaking up with me?” Buck asked, causing you to stop. 

“I don’t want to. But you seem to have unresolved feelings for Abby and you can’t claim to love one person wholeheartedly when you clearly don’t. Figure it out, Buck. But remember who was here when no one else was.” You answered before leaving the house. 

You didn’t know where else to go after you left. So you decided to go to Bobby and Athena’s. Bobby was like a father to you when you joined the 118 and you trusted him more than you trusted most people. 

After trying to straighten yourself up and wipe the tears from your face, you got out of the car and headed to the front door. You knocked a couple of times and waited for the door to open. 

When it did, Athena’s face softened when she saw you and instantly knew something was wrong. “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked, ushering you inside. “I didn’t know where else to go.” You answered. 

Bobby, wondering who was at the door, turned the corner and saw you standing in the entryway. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Buck and I got into a fight. He went to meet up with Abby and he didn’t tell meand I just, I just don’t understand why he won’t let her go. Am I not enough?” You explained. 

Athena shushed you and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. She knew Buck was stubborn but not so much that you felt you had to leave. Bobby was furious. He hated seeing you so upset and he was frustrated with the young man for making you think you weren’t enough for him. 

After a few minutes, Athena made up the guest bedroom for you and said you could stay as long as you needed. But you hoped it wouldn’t have to be for long. 

__

Bobby arrived at the station in search for Buck and found him sulking while Hen and Chimney were grilling him about his mood. “What’s wrong with you today?” Chimney asked. “Him and Y/N got in a fight last night and she walked out on him.” Bobby answered for him. 

Buck looked up at his captain with wide eyes, wondering how he knew about the prior events. “She stayed at mine and Athena’s last night.” He added. Buck let out a sigh of relief, mainly because he was worried sick about you. You didn’t answer a single one of his calls or texts and he didn’t know where you went off to. 

“Why did she walk out on you?” Hen asked. “Because I may have went to meet up with Abby the other day. And apparently I had been acting distant towards Y/N and she confronted me.” Buck explained. “Seriously? You still have feelings for Abby?” Hen asked. “No, Hen-” Buck tried to explain but was interrupted by his coworkers. 

“Y/N is the perfect girl for you and you’re throwing her away for someone who left you?” She continued. “Hen,” Buck started. “You’re stupid but not this stupid.” She said. “Hen! I don’t have feelings for Abby anymore. I wanted to give her a chance to explain why she left and to thank her. Because if she wouldn’t have left, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.” Buck interrupted. 

“And I,” He started before he stopped himself, not sure if he wanted to tell everyone his secret. “You what?” Eddie asked. Buck looked up at his friends before sighing. “I bought a ring.” He answered. “Wait, what?” Chimney asked. “I bought a ring. I was going to propose but then I got all in my head after Abby showed up. I thought Y/N would say no and she’d leave me just like Abby did.” Buck explained. 

The rest of the 118 crew was silent as they looked down at Buck. Hen sat down across from him before speaking. “That girl is head over heels in love with you, Buck. She has been since the first time she met you and the last thing she would do is leave you like Abby did. Though, because of Abby, she felt she had no choice.” She said. 

“I need to get her back. I didn’t even know what to do this morning without her.” Buck said. “When does she come in for her shift?” He asked Bobby. “She was supposed to be here by now. She left before me.” The man answered. 

Before anyone could form a theory about your whereabouts, the bell went off signaling they had a call. 

They soon arrived to the scene of a car accident, one car completely flipped upside down. 

The 118 stopped short, however, when they noticed who’s car was upside down. It was yours that was hit by a guy texting and driving and ran a red light. 

“Y/N?” Buck called, running to the driver side door. “Buck, you’re too close to this.” Bobby stopped him. “We’re all too close to this, Bobby.” Buck rebutted. Bobby looked at Athena and gestured for her to keep Buck away from the scene. “Keep him away from her.” He instructed his. wife. 

Eddie began trying to get the door off and Hen and Chimney noticed you were still conscious, struggling to get out and stay awake. 

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Hen asked. “Yeah. I-I can hear you.” You stammered. “I have a piece of shrapnel between the third and fourth intercostal space. Mild to severe concussion and around three broken ribs, and a possible pulmonary contusion.” You told them. 

Both EMTs were surprised that you could still diagnose and recognize your symptoms while having a concussion and actively bleeding. 

Once the door was off the car, Hen and Chimney set down the backboard and Eddie began cutting your seatbelt. 

“Where’s Buck?” You asked him. “Bobby won’t let him help. He’s too close to this one.” Eddie answered. “Aren’t you all though?” You joked. Eddie laughed dryly as the seatbelt was cut free. “Can you move?” He asked. 

You looked down at the piece of metal from the seat and back up at him. “You have to pull it out.” You told him. “Y/N,” Eddie started. “Eddie, you have to pull it out or I won’t be able to move. I have a concussion, I’m already bleeding and in about five minutes I’m going to pass out. I will slowly bleed out from the inside if I don’t move. Pull the damn thing out.” You snapped. 

Eddie looked at you for a moment before glancing over at Buck, arguing with Athena. As Eddie pulled the piece of metal out of your side, Buck broke free of Athena’s grasp and fell to his friend’s side. 

“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically. “I’m going to pass out in a couple of seconds so I’m sorry, Buck. For what happened last night.” You spoke, your breathing becoming shallower. “Buck we gotta move her.” Eddie told him. 

Your eyes fell closed slowly and the heart rate monitor attached to you started beeping rapidly. “We gotta get her out now.” Hen instructed. Bobby pulled Buck back as he watched in horror while his friends began giving you CPR once they pulled you from the car.

Your heart beat thankfully went back to normal and Chimney and Hen loaded you into the back of the ambulance. 

Buck took the liberty of joining you considering he was your emergency contact, having no other family in LA.

Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Buck, Chimney and Hen were forced to stay at the ER bay, not being allowed to go with you. 

Buck watched as the doctors took you away and this quickly became his worst nightmare. What if you didn’t make it? What if the last conversation you had was a fight? 

Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder as they all watched you disappear down the hallway. 

__

It had been hours. Hours of the 118 sitting in the waiting room for you to come out of surgery. Buck was a nervous wreck and no amount of consoling from Maddie or Eddie made it any better. He knew she should have told you about meeting with Abby but he was afraid of ruining everything. But not telling you made it ten times worse. 

“Evan Buckley?” A doctor called, alerting the entire crew. “Th-That’s me. I’m Evan Buckley.” Buck replied. “Y/N is going to be okay. We repaired the damage to her lung as well as the other internal damage she received from the car crash. She still had a major concussion and she’ll be out of commission for a while, but she got incredibly lucky.” The doctor explained. 

Buck let out a very visible sigh of relief, as did everyone else. “Can I see her?” Buck asked. “She’s in the ICU so only a couple of people at a time.” The doctor said. “You go, Buck. We’ll see her when she’s moved to a normal room.” Bobby told him. 

He nodded his head and followed the doctor to your room. He saw you lying in the hospital bed, multiple IVs in your hands and arms and an oxygen tube in your nose. 

Your eyes were still closed but he could tell you were awake, though hearing the doctor’s voice alerted you. 

“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” You turned your head slightly and saw Buck standing in the doorway. “Hi.” You said quietly, your voice still hoarse from the breathing tube in surgery. 

Buck sat in the chair next to you, his eyes red and watering. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” He whispered. “I should have told you about Abby but I met with her to get closure. And to thank her because if she wouldn’t have left me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” He added. 

“It’s okay. I should have let you explained.” You replied. “I have something else to tell you.” Buck said. “Oh no, now what?” You joked. “I bought a ring.” He said. “Like, a ring ring?” You questioned. “Yes, a ring ring.” Buck laughed. “Where is it?” You asked.

Buck let go of your hand for a moment and fished the piece of jewelry out of his pocket.

“You have to put it on for me.” You said. Buck looked at you in disbelief as he smiled, sliding the ring on your left finger. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.” He said. “Of course it is. I’d be stupid to say no to you.” You told him with a smile.

Buck squeezed your hand gently as he looked at the ring on your finger. “I never want to come that close to losing you ever again.” He muttered. “You won’t. I don’t plan on leaving you for a long time.” You said. “Good. Because I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Buck said. 

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you looked down at the ring. “You did a good job.” You commented. Buck laughed at your comment, causing a smile to grace your face. “Hen and Maddie helped.” He said. “I figured as much.” You replied. 

The rest of the evening, or whatever time of day you thought it was, Buck stayed by your side. Even when the doctors were running their tests and looking over your condition. After almost losing you, there was no way you were going to get rid of Buck even for a moment. 

[heliads]

At the Café

Brett Talbot needs a new day job. Why he had to choose the shop where you work with your friend is a mystery, but it could have to do with the fact that he’s utterly in love with you.

masterlist

As you duck through the door to your friend’s café, you’re instantly enveloped by the familiar, comforting smell of homemade food. You sling your backpack in a corner and grab your flour-dusted apron, pulling it on and tying the strings behind you. Just as the clock strikes four, you’re making your way to your cashier station in the front.

You’ve been working at Irene’s café for what feels like forever. The little coffee shop/bakery/whatever you want to call it had been shifted from your friend’s uncles to her aunts, and then finally to her parents. You’re not quite sure how it’s managed to stay alive for so long, maybe some combination of hard work, grit, and dark magic, but here it is, thriving amongst the other shops of Beacon Hills.

You knew it was hard to run the café on top of all the other work and schoolwork your friend had to manage, and so you took some shifts to help out. Most of the time, you were a cashier or a waitress, helping to make drinks or prepare orders with your friend while the other family members and workers made pastries and delectable meals in the back.

Irene smiles when she sees you. “If it isn’t my favorite coworker! Thank goodness you’re here- I hate having to be up front alone.” You laugh at her words. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to have favorites, especially when half of your family works here as well.” Irene swats your shoulder playfully. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

The two of you descend into the usual buzz of the café, fixing drinks and running through orders. About half an hour into your shift, though, your friend turns to you, groaning quietly and turning away from the door so she can hide her distress from the customers. “No- it’s the Devenford boys again.” You glance from her to the shop windows, where you can see a group of boys in athletic uniforms talking amongst themselves and heading in a clear path to the café.

You wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion. “Those boys? They seem fine.” Irene heaves a dramatic sigh. “Trust me, they’re worse than just fine. That’s the Devenford Prep lacrosse team. They come here after practice, and they’re just awful. I can’t deal with them. I simply cannot.” Across the shop, the door opens and the boys file in, grabbing seats at a booth near the windows. Your friend clutches your sleeve desperately. “I can’t handle them, not today. Please, can you go take their order instead of me?” You do your best to hold back a laugh. “Sure. Try not to collapse from the stress.” 

As Irene whispers wretched thank-yous in your ear, you grab a small notebook and a pen and walk briskly over to the lacrosse team’s booth, running through the mandated greetings. “Hi! What can I get you this afternoon?” The boys mutter amongst themselves, and then one of them turns to you. He’s clearly the captain, as all the other boys look to him. “I’ll have a black coffee. No sugar, please- you’re already too sweet for me.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. “Wow. That was terrible.” The boy’s face falls momentarily before returning to the usual cocky smirk, but you ignore him and continue to take orders from the rest of the team. As you head back to Irene, you give her an irritated look. “I can see why you wanted to avoid them. I think the captain tried to flirt with me, but I couldn’t hear him through all the sheer awfulness.” Your friend giggles as the two of you start to prepare the order. “That’s Brett Talbot. I think he flirts with everything that breathes.”

You look at her in confusion. “Wait, that’s Brett Talbot?” Irene nods. “Yeah, do you know him?” You shake your head slowly. “No, but I think he used to bully a friend of mine, Liam. I’ve never seen him in person, though, just heard enough stories to make me want to avoid him forever.”

After the order is ready, you bring over the drinks and food, mentally preparing yourself for the unfortunate task of having to deal with the Devenford boys once more. This time, the captain- Brett- doesn’t try another pickup line, but he does wink at you when you give him his coffee.

One week later, you’re just handing a steaming hot tea to another patron when Brett comes in again with a few of his friends. He tosses out a greeting to you alongside another wink, and you do your best to ignore him. He’s come in a few more times in the past week, each time making sure to flirt with you until you felt ready to hit him with whatever heavy object was nearby.

Irene is kind to you today and she takes their order, although she makes sure to relay back to you that Brett asked why you weren’t there to talk to him. You roll your eyes and are about to deliver a biting retort, but you’re distracted when a good friend of yours walks through the door.

You beam at him as he walks over. “Theo! It’s so good to see you!” The chimera grins back at you. “Hi, Y/N! How’s the café?” You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s just great. You want some coffee?” Theo nods gratefully. “Please.” As you prepare his drink, the two of you dissolve into conversation. Oddly enough, across the room Brett looks angry as he watches the two of you talk. What’s his problem?

It’s yet another sunny day after school with you managing the café. Irene had a club meeting after school, so it’s just you for today. A door swings open next to you, and Irene’s dad steps out. “Hey, Y/N? I just wanted to let you know- we have a new employee, starting today.” You nod. “Cool. Who is he?” Her dad gestures behind him for the newcomer to join you. “Actually, you might know him.” You feel the urge to stifle a groan as you realize who the café’s latest employee is- none other than Brett Talbot.

After Irene’s dad leaves, you fold your arms across your chest and stare at Brett. “What are you doing?” Brett just smirks, walking to stand right beside you at the checkout window. “I am working at my new job.” You give him a suspicious look. “Why here?” Brett pretends to be upset. “What, I can’t work at a shop I like? I needed a new job and this happened to be the best opportunity.” He flashes you a devilish grin, leaving you to groan inwardly and do your best to survive the next few hours working alongside Brett Talbot.

It actually isn’t that bad. He is, admittedly, a hard worker, and he does seem to enjoy working at the café. However, he also does seem to make it a habit to flirt with you all the time, knowing you can’t do anything about it. When the door opens and a new customer steps into the shop, you’re grateful for something else to do other than ignore Brett.

The customer steps up to the counter, walking with a swagger that seems to suggest he thinks the world of himself. He treats you to a smirk, leaning forward to get even closer to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Can I get a drink from the prettiest girl in Beacon Hills?” You raise your eyebrows at the boy in front of you. “Uh, what? I mean, what drink?” The boy grins at you, a cheeky smirk that makes you want to leave the room, or maybe even the planet. “You decide, sweetheart. As long as I can get your number with it.”

You shake your head slowly. “Uh, no thanks. I don’t give out my number to customers.” The boy puts on a fake pout. “Not even for me? Come on, sweetheart, I know you want to.” You take a slight step back and away from him. “I don’t-” Brett interrupts you all of the sudden, moving to stand next to you and glaring at the customer. “She’s not interested. Get your drink and go.”

The boy rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t want you interfering. We’re just having a friendly conversation.” Brett fixes the boy with a threatening stare, moving an arm in between you and the boy almost like a shield. “She’s not interested. Here’s your coffee, now leave.” The anger and tension between the boys is so intense that it seems like it fills the room. The customer maintains eye contact with Brett for a moment longer, then shrugs his shoulders as if the whole thing was just a joke. “Whatever, man. I don’t want her anyway- probably just a rebound for whoever’s closest to her.”

As the boy walks away, you almost have to hold Brett back from lunging towards him. In a panic, you realize that Brett’s eyes are starting to glow the gold of a werewolf. Frantically, you pull him out of the public eye and into the nearest room you can find- a supply closet just a few feet away. In the darkened room, you grab Brett’s hands, trying to calm him down. 

“Brett, listen to me! You need to stop being mad. He’s gone, it’s okay.” Brett’s voice is harsh and almost sounds like a growl. “He can’t do that. He can’t say that to you.” You move your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “It’s fine. You helped me get out of that conversation, and it’s all gone. Just breathe.” You and Brett stay like that, fingers intertwined and your hand softly brushing the hair out of his eyes, until the gold finally ebbs away from his eyes and the crisis is averted. 

Brett breathes heavily. “Thanks, Y/N.” You nod. “Of course.” All of a sudden, you realize just what this looks like- how close the two of you are in this dark room, with you pressed up against him. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you fumble for the doorknob. “Uh, I should probably get back. Don’t want to leave the shop unattended.”

The end of your shift comes quickly, thank goodness. You can still feel Brett’s touch against you, and you hurry out of the café and into the bright sun gratefully. Why are you feeling like this?

Unfortunately, it appears you won’t be able to be alone with your thoughts. You’ve barely gone a few feet down the sidewalk when you hear a shout from behind. It’s Brett, heading purposefully out of the shop after you. Briefly, you consider pretending you hadn’t heard him and continuing on down the road, but he’s already caught up with you.

“Can I walk you home?” Brett looks at you, hand raking through his already disheveled brown hair. You shrug. “You don’t have to- I only live a block or two away.” Brett keeps walking beside you. “I’d still like to.”

He’s true to his word- despite your house being already in view, Brett still takes the time to walk you to your front door. You reach out for the doorknob, but his hand moves faster, taking yours and forcing you to face him once more. “I wanted to thank you again for today. I haven’t lost control like that in a while.”

You smile lightly. “Hey, no problem. It isn’t the first time I’ve had to talk someone out of wolfing out.” Brett fixes you with a steady look. “Is it alright if it isn’t the last?” He leans closer to you, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. “I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot. I know I’ve kind of been an asshole in the past, but I do care about you.”

You look up at him, nerves clearly written across his face. “I care about you too, Brett. I didn’t want to admit it before, but I do.” Brett beams at that. “Perfect.” With that, he lightly kisses you and then turns around, heading back down the street towards home. You watch him go, hand unconsciously traveling to your lips. Perfect indeed.

[softtransbf]

Mister Nice Guy, part 1

Summary: You’re new to the BAU and get along well with everyone, almost. You can’t figure out why the infuriatingly handsome Dr. Spencer Reid seems to hate you so much.

Word Count: 2222

Reader: Trans man, he/him pronouns, no physical description.

Warnings: Alcohol, brief description of a case and therefore murder. Nothing graphic.

(Part two)

~~~~~~~~~~

It was your first day at the BAU, and you were so excited. It took all of your willpower not to skip from the elevator to your new boss' office. You definitely caught a sideways glance from an incredibly handsome man with very expressive eyebrows, but you didn't let it concern you; you'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to let anyone bring you down today. You got to the door and knocked sharply. 

"Agent L/N, please, come in," came a voice from inside the room. You took a deep breath and walked through the door.

You'd heard stories about Aaron Hotchner and the BAU- everyone had. Most people only heard the good parts- the heroic tales, the happy endings. But you liked to be prepared, to know the truth of what you were going after, so you'd also paid attention to the quieter whispers. The imposing boss who never smiles, the weird and maybe-pseudo-sexual relationship between the exuberant tech analyst and one of the profilers, the betting pool on whether or not the two female profilers were secretly gay for each other, true crime writer extraordinaire and profiling legend David Rossi leaving retirement to mostly be snarky, and the young agent with multiple doctorates who is smarter than seems humanly possible. You would never admit it, but you were particularly eager to meet the genius. He guest lectured once in your friend's linguistics class your last semester before graduating, and xe wouldn't shut up about him for an entire week. When you told xem that your transfer was approved, xe begged for "a full rundown on what he's like up close and personal" after your first case. But first, you needed to meet with SSA Hotchner.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. 

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." You thanked your lucky star that your voice didn't shake.

"It's a pleasure to have you. I heard nothing but the best about you from your previous supervisor. Officially, all the paperwork has gone through for your transfer, but I would like to ask a couple of questions before we get started." 

"Of course, sir. What would you like to know?" One corner of his mouth ticked up slightly for a fraction of a second, and you counted that as a major victory.

"First and foremost, why are you interested in the BAU?" You relaxed slightly; you'd prepared for this question.

"Human behavior is nothing short of fascinating. Everyone is shaped by a unique set of experiences, but at the end of the day, we all behave in documented patterns. Everything matters, because it shapes who we are, but also nothing does, because we all end up in one of a finite number of 'shapes', so to speak. No one is the same, but we all exhibit set behavioral patterns. No matter what someone's gone through, at the end of the day, they are still understandable and predictable. I find that absolutely fascinating, and the work that the BAU does with that is incredible. I want to be a part of it, and I have the skill and drive to do so. After all, the BAU essentially wrote the handbook for Crisis Negotiation."

"That is a very interesting perspective, agent." His face was neutral, but you detected approval in his tone. "I only had one other matter to bring up- I see two different first names in your paperwork, and two of your references refer to you with different pronouns. Which name do you prefer, and what are your pronouns?"

You were floored; you'd never had a supervisor so casually look past paperwork outing you. "Y/N, sir, and he/him/his."

"Wonderful. Well, Y/N, welcome to the BAU. Let's go meet the team, shall we?" You nodded and followed him out his door into the meeting room, where the rest of the team was assembled.

"Everyone, this is Special Agent Y/N L/N. He has just transferred from Crisis Negotiation."

"Oh! New guy! Hi hi hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, just call me Penelope, and I do all the tech-y, research-y stuff." She made her way across the room to you as she spoke, talking with her hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, Penelope! I love the look you're rocking, by the way. Those shoes in particular are magnificent." You knew you were being the gay sterotype that you'd spent your career trying to avoid, but shoes that good could not go uncomplimented.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she said to you before stage-whispering to the rest of the team, "I like him! Let's keep him." The team laughed, and you blushed. It seemed that Hotchner had wordlessly passed on the duties of making the introductions to her, because she pointed to the agent closest to her, handsome-guy-with-the-eyebrows from earlier, and continued on. 

"Okay, so, this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, but we all call her JJ, David Rossi, and Dr Spencer Reid." They all nodded, smiled, and/or waved slightly when they were introduced, with the exception of Dr Reid, who looked almost like he was looking at a puzzle. You chalked the feeling in your gut it gave you to first-day nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to getting to know you all better as time goes on." You were addressing everyone, but something about the way Dr. Reid was staring at you made it difficult to look away from him for too long.

"Wonderful! Now, as much as I wish we could all chit-chat and get to know Y/N better, we do have a case. Last night, a body was found in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park."

The case was interesting, twin injustice collectors, one more mission oriented, the other interested almost entirely on experimenting with different forms of torture on the victims. The former, over the weeks between kills, had started dating one of the local detectives, neither of them knowing of the other's involvement in the case. You were there when that information came to light at the killer's arrest, and you were able to diffuse the situation, ensuring that no one was harmed.

On the flight back, Prentiss insisted on the whole team going out for drinks to welcome you to the team. Hotchner declined, because he needed to get back to Jack, and Rossi said he had "plans with Tony Bennett", but everyone else agreed, mostly enthusiastically. It took significant persuasion from JJ to get Reid to agree to go out with you all. For the whole case, he was abrupt and distant with you, despite your best efforts. You knew it was silly, but you really wanted your coworkers to like you, so you decided you were going to do your absolute best to get him to like you by the end of the night.

-

"Hey, doc, first round's on me. What'll it be?" You'd noticed during the case that he shrugged off all of your attempts to start a conversation, but you figured that even he wouldn't ignore you under these circumstances.

"Uh, white wine would be great, thanks."

"White wine? At a dive bar? Does this bar even have white wine?" You'd intended to be charming, but, seriously, white wine? Who was this guy?

He opened his mouth, clearly indignant, but he was interrupted by Morgan chuckling from behind you both.

"That's why we go to this dump, newbie. It's the only bar in the area that serves white wine, which is all Pretty Boy here drinks." He winked at you and playfully elbowed Reid in the ribs.

You threw your hands up in mock surrender and chuckled. "Okay, okay, white wine for the good doctor it is. What's your poison? I'm sure word's gotten around that the first round is on me."

"You know, I might have heard something about that, and I most definitely wouldn't say no to a dirty martini." He winked at you, and your chuckle turned into full-on laughter.

You got the bartender's attention and ordered their drinks and a Jack and Coke for yourself. "It's a damn shame you're straight, Derek. Truly a crime against queer men everywhere, although I'm not so proud I can't admit that I'm a bit glad you're not competition."

"Wait wait wait, how do you know I don't like a little meat on the side?"

"So, sidestepping the fact that not all men have penises and some women do, you are so hetero that it's almost painful. Look around; men of all shapes and sizes outnumber women 2 to 1 at least. But you've spent the whole night making eyes at those women over there." You pointed to a table on the other side of the room. "Plus, I may or may not have received a very detailed string of texts from Penelope that essentially amounted to a crash course on all of y'all. I get a feeling that she might like me a little bit."

"My bad on the meat comment- I'll definitely fix that. And speaking of Penelope being a font of information, she's been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about you. What's your big secret, new guy?"

You raised an eyebrow and sipped your drink. "All you need to know is that Hotch, who strikes me as even more protective of this team than he lets on, which is really saying something, knows, and he cares less than any brass I've ever met. And I know for a fact that if Penelope thought it was concerning, she'd have at least voiced some suspicions about me, if not told you outright. I'm not ashamed of it, it's just none of y'alls business. Anyway, the blonde from the table you were eyeing earlier is coming over to see if we've been flirting this whole time so she knows whether to flirt with you or gush about how she's always wanted a Gay Best Friend oh my god. If I'm still here, it'll be both, and I'm allergic to that particular brand of cishet nonsense. Have fun, good-lookin'." You chuckled and patted him on the shoulder as you left, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Reid roll his eyes, down his drink, and walk in the other direction. What is his deal? Whatever. I'm not about to let him wet blanket all over tonight. You took out your phone and sent out a couple of quick texts.

[To: Penelope]: Thank you for not outing me. It means the world to me. Let's get brunch sometime?

[To: Nerd <3]: you sure Reid seemed pleasant when he lectured? that has Not been my experience with him so far. you were right about him being Cute cute, though, damn. a Gay could get lost in those big brown eyes, and in different circumstances I'd climb him like a tree. shame he's Like That lmao

Looking up from your phone, you saw Emily and JJ nearby, so you went over to join them. 

"Oh em gee Y/N you're gay? I had, like, no idea! We should, like, totally get brunch and then go shopping! This is gonna be so much fun; I've always wanted a gay best friend!" You rolled your eyes and laughed at Emily's terrible Valley Girl accent. "Unfortunately, I did not spend my time in the closet learning anything about clothes. I only dress halfway decently for work because my friend dragged me to the mall and updated my wardrobe when I applied for this position. It's all xir doing."

"Well, xe has excellent taste." You mentally filed away JJ's effortless use of neopronouns.

"I'll be sure to let xem know! I'm so down for brunch, though." You checked your phone. "Looks like Garcia is too!"

"Damn, you work fast. You'll fit right in here," Emily laughed.

"Honestly, I'm a little bit blown away by how awesome and welcoming you all are. Well, mostly. Is Spencer like this with every new person, or did I somehow do something to offend him?" Emily and JJ shared a look you couldn't quite read before JJ answered.

"Spencer…" she hesitated, "He's going through something right now. I'm sure he'll figure it out soon, and things will smooth out." 

So you waited. Weeks passed, and you fit in well with the team. You ended up getting close to Derek and Penelope in particular, and you kept trying to make nice with Spencer. Weeks of cold shoulder and as few words as possible to you while being his normal, verbose self with everyone else. So, three weeks into your new job, on a night out with Derek and Penelope you made a decision.

"Look. It's been weeks, and the guy still won't say more than 5 words to me. I'm done trying to… I don't know what I was even trying to do," you slurred, you’d probably had one drink too many. "Make a friend, maybe? I don't even know. But I'm done. He wants to give taciturn bordering on rude? Then that's what he'll receive. Let's see how Pretty Boy likes a taste of his own medicine. No more Mister Nice Guy." You wouldn't remember the look they shared until much later.

And so, your silent war with Spencer truly began.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part x

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix

And we’ve finally come to the end of Cass and Mat’s story! I want to thank every person who’s read this over the past few months, especially those of you who have reblogged, commented, and shared this with your friends. Your feedback means the world to me, and please tell me what you think of this final part! I’ve also got some ideas floating around for an epilogue, so don’t be surprised if that pops up in the next few weeks.

part x

May 21 (fri)

For once, it wasn’t Cass’ alarm that woke her up. Her internal clock didn’t let her sleep in past 6, but as she lay in her bed, comforter pulled up to her chin and curls up in a haphazard messy bun, a realization struck her. She didn’t have anything to do, and that was just about as far from normal for her as possible. Normally, she’d be hopping in the shower at this time, getting out and shoveling some cereal down her throat before running to catch the train, or desperately trying to finish some last-minute reading before an early lecture. Her grandparents’ flight didn’t land at JFK until 1, and she wouldn’t need to leave until an hour before that to get Mat and drive to the airport. 

Padding out to the kitchen, she just caught Ryanne, who was about to leave for a clinical rotation. “What department are you in this month?” Cass asked.

“OB/GYN,” Ryanne responded. “I got to observe a birth the other day, and it was one of my favorite things I’ve gotten to do so far. Obviously I don’t know for sure yet, but I think I might want to match into it. You get to do a little bit of everything — there’s some surgery, some routine care, some deliveries. And with the Black maternal health crisis, I figure we need all the Black OBs we can get as a country.” 

Cass smiled. “That’s wonderful, I’m glad to hear.” She knew that Ryanne had been a little stressed out with the prospect of trying to pick a residency; she hadn’t felt drawn to any of the other rotations she’d gone through quite like this one. 

“What about you? What’s your schedule like today?” Ryanne asked as she poured coffee into her travel mug. 

Cass flopped down on the couch, looking over at her. “It’s just...I have nothing to do. Nothing needs to get done. No cases to read, no essays to finish, no paperwork to file or anything. Chris gave me this week off for finals anyways, so I couldn’t even go into the office if I wanted to because there’s just nothing for me to do. Do you know how rare that is for me?”

Ryanne laughed. “Cass, I’m in med school. The last time I had a true ‘off day’ was two weeks ago, and even then I spent most of it studying.” She slung her backpack over one shoulder. “See you tonight, have a good day, babe!”

After some toast and a smoothie, Cass was back on the couch, trying desperately to think of something to do. She thrived on being busy, thrived on feeling like she was needed and contributing to something worthwhile. Pushing herself up, she walked back to her room, deciding to change and go out for a run. Cass liked to keep in shape and exercise as often as she could, even though it had been a few years since she had been on an organized sports team. She was usually able to make yoga classes at the school gym twice a week, but typically didn’t have the spare time in the mornings for a run. And by the time she got back it was almost always dark, way too late to even think about going out alone. 

Lacing up her tennis shoes and grabbing her AirPods and keys, she set out, down the stairs and past the door. As she jogged down the streets, making familiar turn after familiar turn, Cass realized something remarkably profound. Every place she passed had played a part in the last three years. St. Lucy’s, where she had stumbled in with inconsolable tears after her abuelo’s stroke, lighting a candle and praying with some old Italian woman for his recovery. The bodega on the corner run by Carlos Gonzalez, one of the first people she met when she moved to the city and the only one who knew how to smoosh her sandwiches down how she likes. The Edible Arrangements where she, Stella, and Ryanne had bought Alicia a congratulatory fruit bouquet for finally asking out her coworker Juliette. They had been dating for six months. The high school she passed every morning on her way to the subway station. These were the people and places that had made her life what it was, and she owed them her thanks. 

An hour and five miles later, Cass decided to call it quits, walking the last few blocks back to the apartment as a sort of cool-down. She jumped in the shower, throwing her hair up in a towel once she got out and resigning herself to watching whatever was on TV. Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives it was, apparently. Four episodes and one snack break later, it was time to get in the car to head over and pick up Mat. Cass drove down Manhattan Island, tapping her fingers in boredom as she hit yet more traffic. It was noon, why was there even traffic in the first place? She pulled into the visitor’s spot in the underground lot of Mat’s apartment complex, taking out her phone. Just got here! Mat popped out of the elevator a few minutes later, holding a bouquet of tulips. “Sorry I’m late, I was going back and forth between tulips and sunflowers for awhile, but I figured the pink was maybe a better choice? What do you think?” Cass started to laugh, and Mat looked offended. “What?”

“Babe, it’s so sweet that you want to impress my grandma, but have you thought about how the poor flowers will fare?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Cass adjusted her seatbelt, leaning over. “We’re going to be out for awhile. We’re not going straight back to their hotel. So…” she prompted.

“They’ll wilt.” Mat finished, his face falling. 

She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry. It’s a sweet gesture and I’m sure she’ll appreciate them. We’re all going out for dinner after the ceremony tomorrow, why don’t you bring them then?” 

He perked up. “I’ll run up and put them back in a vase, be back in a few!” Mat gave Cass a quick peck on her cheek, leaving her with just one question. Mat owned vases? He slid back into the passenger’s seat shortly after, clicking his seatbelt in and connecting his phone to the speakers. 

Cass rolled her eyes. “I don’t know a single guy your age who’s not obsessed with John Mayer. It’s kind of weird, honestly.”

“You don’t like him?” Mat asked curiously. Cass was usually into more guitar-based, acoustic stuff, so he figured she’d be into at least some of his stuff. 

“Some of it,” Cass responded, pulling out of the lot and onto the street. “Go ahead and play it, I don’t mind at all. Not what I’d usually put on if I’m alone, that’s all.”

Mat nodded, looking absentmindedly out the window. “So, what should I know about your grandparents?”

Cass’ face immediately burst into a smile at their mention. It was always so clear how much she loved her family, and that was one of Mat’s favorite things about her. How hard she loved. “Alright, so it’s Dolores and Roberto Cabrera. They’re wonderful people, I genuinely think you’re going to like them a lot. They’re both super fluent in English, so don’t worry about communication. They originally immigrated to Texas when they were in their teens, abuela was a housekeeper at a few hotels in San Antonio and abuelo worked in the fields for awhile before getting a job at a little hardware store in town, where he worked until they retired. My mom’s the middle of four, two older sisters and a younger brother.”Mat listened intently. “My abuelo’s a little more rough around the edges, so don’t be surprised if he gives you  a little bit of a hard time, but it’s not out of malice or anything. He’s always been very protective over us, my mom and her siblings, and now us three. He might do the whole ‘nobody’s good enough for my Cassidy” thing, but he’ll get over it. He means well.” 

She glanced over at Mat, who was looking decidedly nervous. “Seriously, chou, it’s going to be fine. Abuela’s totally different, they’re like polar opposites. I can almost guarantee that she’ll say something to the effect of ‘if my granddaughter loves you, I love you.’ Very much go with the flow, she’ll probably want to come over to your apartment and cook for you.” Her expression softened. “As long as you’re kind and respectful, they won’t have an issue with you, Mat. They’ll see that you treat me how I deserve to be treated and love me like I deserve to be loved.”

Cass pulled into the garage by the international arrivals terminal, cutting the gas and checking the time. “The flight was supposed to land at one, so they should be getting out of passport control by the time we get inside.” It was a little after one thirty, but if there was anything Cass knew, it was just how long customs could take at an airport as big as JFK. Even in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and even though her grandparents were travelling on their American passports and could use the citizen’s line, she had heard that it could take upwards of an hour or two to get through. 

The concourse was pretty bare apart from a few kiosks selling “I ❤️ NY” shirts and a surprisingly busy Noah’s Bagels, so Mat and Cass made themselves comfortable on one of the rows of plastic chairs lining the room. The arrivals screen had marked their flight from Mexico City as having landed nearly an hour prior, so it was little surprise when Cass popped up from the chair, straightening her shirt and walking over to a couple that he could only assume were her grandparents. Mat quickly followed, catching up to her just as she threw her arms around her grandma. “Abuela, te extrañé,” she said, the sound muffled by Dolores’ scarf. She pulled back, kissing her grandpa on the cheek before stepping over to Mat, one hand placed reassuringly on his back. “Abuela, abuelo, this is Mat, my boyfriend.”

Mat stuck his hand out, shaking theirs. “Mr. and Mrs. Cabrera, it’s so amazing to finally meet you. Cass speaks so highly of you, and she always talks about her summers in Hermosillo.” 

Dolores pulled Mat in, embracing him from the start just as Cass had expected. “Mat, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Cassidy has told us so much about you, it’s clear she loves you a great deal.”

Mat ducked his head and blushed. “I’m not sure if she can love me more than I love her, but I’m happy to be in such good company.” 

He took both of their suitcases as Cass gestured to the sliding doors. “I want to get back to the car before they charge me for another half hour,” she said. 

Mat slid the bags in the trunk of the car as Dolores got in the passenger’s seat. With a gulp, Mat realized that meant he had to sit next to Roberto. He had been perfectly nice on the walk over, but as Cass had warned him, it was clear that he was a little guarded. Whether that was just his personality or whether Mat had yet to earn his trust hadn’t been determined. 

Her grandparents had been to New York once or twice before, but it had almost always been just to fly in before driving up to visit Cass’ family in Connecticut; they had never really been able to see the city. Cass  felt strongly that that had to change, so she had arranged for a mini-tour of Manhattan before they got dropped off at their hotel for the night. “So, Mat,” Dolores said, turning around in her chair, “Cassidy tells us you’re a hockey player? That must be so exciting, how long have you been playing?”

Mat nodded. “Yes ma’am. I play for the Islanders, so we’re right here in Brooklyn, but I live over in Manhattan. I’ve been playing the sport since I was four or so? Really little. But I just finished my fourth season on the Islanders. And it is exciting, I love being with my team and being on the ice, it’s one of the best feelings in the world.” 

“That must keep you busy, though?” Roberto asked gruffly. 

Mat froze. He couldn’t lie and say that he was home all the time, able to be there for Cass as often as he’d like to, because he wasn’t. But if he let on just how often he was gone, would that make him even more wary? “Oftentimes, yes,” Mat began slowly. “The team’s usually on two or so road trips a month, they’re usually about a week long. But they’re balanced out with plenty of home games, and there’s lots of guys who balance the job with a family and other responsibilities. I’m always excited to be able to be back in New York, I love it here. And to be with Cass.” Roberto nodded, not seemingly totally satisfied but content enough to not push the issue further. 

“He’s really good about spending time with me, abuelo, even though we’ve both got busy schedules,” Cass added, catching Roberto’s eye in the rearview mirror. “We meet in the morning before a class to get coffee, or lunch in between studying if I’ve got time. I go to every game I’m able to when he’s playing here in the city, or over in Jersey. We spend plenty of time together, he doesn’t blow me off. You don’t have to worry.” He seemed much more at ease with his granddaughter’s response. 

It was a whirlwind three hours around New York, Cass playing chauffeur as they went to the top of the Empire State Building — her pick — in St. Patrick’s Cathedral  — her grandpa’s pick — and around Central Park, stopping at one of the many pretzel carts for a snack. They dropped them off at the hotel, Cass’ eyes getting misty as her grandma pulled out the serape stole from her purse. Her fingers danced over the colors, the stripes of red and blue and pink and green, and knowing that it was made by the hands of someone so important to her made it all the more beautiful. The rest of her family was driving in later that night, after Nick got out of school, so everyone wouldn’t be together until the graduation ceremony the next day. 

The couple decided to get takeout on the way back to Mat’s apartment, Mat jumping out of the car to run in and pick up the order while Cass circled the block until he was out. As they sat on the couch, cuddled into each other as they broke into the boxes of Chinese food, Cass thought absentmindedly that Mat handled his chopsticks way better than she ever would have given him credit for. Her grandparents had been on her mind. More specifically, her grandparents and Mat had been on her mind. It wasn’t that she thought he had messed up in any way — she was positive he’d absolutely won over her grandma and her grandpa was slowly but surely coming around — but some lingering concerns about what they might think about their relationship. “I’m not sure that they’d actually care, but when you talk to them tomorrow maybe don’t mention how often I sleep over here? They’re wonderful people, but they’re a little old school about this stuff.” 

“This stuff?” Mat asked curiously. 

“Living together, sex before marriage, that kind of stuff.” 

“And how do you feel about it?” 

Cass raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you think you could ever get me to do something I didn’t want to do? I’m way too stubborn for that.” Mat threw his head back, laughing. “But seriously. I don’t make the decision lightly, because commitment and intimacy in that way is something really big and important to me. You already knew that I don’t do hookups, it’s just not my thing. But I can see this, us, going places. I want us to go places. And I’ve never been very good at listening to people when I don’t want to. So I’ve made my peace that my choices might not be ones everyone would be thrilled with, but it doesn’t really matter to me as long as I have you.” 

Mat nodded, putting down his food to card one hand through her curls. “I get that, I do. Obviously that’s not so much the attitude with a lot of the boys, but your principles are part of what makes you who you are, and I love who you are. Every part of you.” Cass smiled against his neck, leaning down and kissing him on the shoulder. “I want us to go places too, I hope you know that.”

“Glad to hear.”

They ate without speaking for a few more minutes until Mat broke the silence. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” 

“With you,” Cass answered honestly. “Here, or we could get a nice brownstone over in Brooklyn.” 

“Somewhere with a yard,” Mat mused. 

“Yeah, a yard would be nice,” Cass agreed. “I’d like to get a dog, I’ve always grown up with dogs and it would be nice to have someone to keep me company when you’re gone.” Her family’s two dogs, Patches and Scout, were back at the house in Connecticut, and on more than one occasion, Cass had made the two-hour drive up just to see them. She paused, glancing down at her hands. “In five years? You’d better have put a ring on my finger by then, Mat. I’ll be almost thirty. Approaching old maid status” 

Mat laughed, an easy, breathy sort of laugh that somehow erased all of the tension in the room. “I think you should double-hyphen.” 

Cass looked at him doubtfully. “Cabrera-Shaw-Barzal? Yeah, I’m going to have to pass on that one.” 

He shrugged, the corner of his lip pulled up in a half-smile. “Just saying. It’s got a ring to it.”

“Have you given much thought to what you’d want to do with your name when you get married?” Mat asked curiously. It really didn’t matter much to him, since it would ultimately be Cass’ decision, but he didn’t want to assume anything regardless. And it didn’t escape Cass that he said when, as if it was certain, as if it was a given. The surety made her heart flutter. 

Cass shook her head. “Not particularly. On one hand, I do like the idea of the whole family having the same name. It seems nice. Unified. But I don’t want to feel like I’m erasing my culture and who I am just because I’m getting married. And all due respect, chou,” Cass poked Mat’s cheek, “but Cabrera Shaw’s the name on my degrees. Cassidy Barzal didn’t go to law school.”

“Very fair,” Mat said with a chuckle. 

Cass took a deep breath. If it seemed like they were having the “future talk,” she figured it was best to go all in. “Do you want kids?” she asked, tentatively, hesitantly. It was obvious that Mat was good with kids, she’d seen as much, but being good with kids and wanting children of your own were two very different things. Cass had wanted to be a mom since she knew what a mom was, and even though they probably should have brought up the topic earlier, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he said no. Thank God, she never had to find out. 

“Definitely,” Mat said, nodding. “Not now, obviously, we’re young and haven’t really settled down yet. If you got pregnant we’d make it work, but I don’t think either of us is looking to be parents right away. But in a couple years, once we’re married and have a proper house with space...Yeah, I’d like to have kids.” He looked over at Cass. “What about you?”

“Always wanted kids,” Cass responded fondly. “I loved growing up with siblings, and I know my parents were the same way. Two or three, I think. I’ve thought about adoption too, but obviously that’s way in the future.”

Mat kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got time.”

 May 22 (sat)

 The graduation ceremony itself wasn’t until noon, so Cass had more than enough time to get ready after waking up at 7. Alicia barrelled into her room at exactly 7:22, throwing a shirt at her and telling her to get dressed. Cass stumbled out of the room ten minutes later, pulling on socks and grabbing her phone from the charger by her door. “What are you guys trying to pull?” she asked, yawning and trying to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Uh, we’re going to the diner, duh,” Stella said with a smile, tossing Cass her purse. “Come on! You know it fills up early on weekends.” Glen’s Diner had become an apartment staple over the past few years, the restaurant having been the first place the four of them had eaten in the city when they moved, not having bought groceries yet and not wanting to pay the premium for delivery. It was cheap, open 24/7, and Cass would swear up and down that their blueberry pancakes were the best she’d ever had. 

They were seated just after 8, happily slurping coffee and stealing bites of each other’s breakfast twenty minutes later. It was a nice day and hadn’t gotten too hot yet, so they decided to walk back after finishing the meal. In reality, “going back” meant Alicia stopping to buy a new necklace, listening to a busker for a few minutes, and petting no fewer than five dogs on the one-mile walk. There was still plenty of time before they had to leave for the ceremony, but after Cass did her makeup and tamed her curls, there was just enough time to watch an episode of Parks & Rec before having to actually get her stuff together. Not as flexible as she once had been, Ryanne helped zip up the back of her dress, a white lace bodycon from her sorority days that she had definitely worn to at least two semiformals. Hey, Cass thought as she straightened her hemline, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 

She had ironed her robe and put it into a dress bag the night before, and gently folded her school stole and the serape from her abuela into her purse. Mat’s necklace hadn’t left its place since Valentine’s. Her dad’s parents had given her a beautiful pair of pearl studs for her undergraduate graduation, and it felt only right to wear them for her next step. She fastened the ankle straps on her heels, and popped her head out to the living room. “Everyone ready?” She was met with a chorus of “yeses,” and grabbed her keys from their dish by the front door. 

“Let’s go get our girl graduated!” Alicia hollered into the street. 

The girls had originally objected to Cass driving herself to her own graduation, but relented as soon as Cass reminded them that she was the only one who knew where to find the free parking, and the rest of them only drove sedans. “Cheryl has way more room. Y’all want to be cramped on purpose?” 

“Fair point,” Stella had said begrudgingly. 

Exactly twenty-six minutes later, Cass pulled into a spot about two blocks away from the arena where she would be graduating in an hour’s time, hugging each of her friends as Ryanne handed her the dress bag. “You’re going to kill it in there,” she said, rubbing her back. 

Cass laughed. “Ry, all I’ve got to do is walk across a stage without tripping.”

She shrugged. “It’s a fine art that few have mastered.” 

Cass entered through the side, flashing her ID to the security guard standing by the door. Half an hour later, everyone had been ushered into their seats, carefully arranged in alphabetical order. For the most part, Cass was friendly with everyone in her class; if they weren’t outwardly hostile to her, she saw no reason why they deserved anything other than kindness, but was relieved to see Robin sitting next to her. “You excited?” Robin asked, brushing a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. The lobby doors must have opened, because as she asked, crowds started to mill into the seats, waving at anyone who would catch their eye. 

Cass bounced her head. “I am, but it’s kind of surreal, you know? I knew we’d get to this point, obviously. It’s what we’ve been working towards for seven years, really. But the idea that it all essentially comes down to this…”

“An hour, a few handshakes, and a piece of paper,” Robin helpfully supplied. 

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s almost anticlimactic in a way? Like sure, we’ve got our JDs after this, but knowing we’ve still got to pass the bar. We’re not over the finish line yet.”

“Columbia has a 97% pass rate, and you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Cass. And I’ve spent three years surrounded by the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

“Fair,” Cass said, “it’s just kind of a weird feeling, you know?” Robin nodded. “And plus, for most of us, we’ve pretty much spent our whole lives in school. Aside from positions as summer associates, or part-time jobs and internships, we don’t really know how to do anything other than school. It’s just a little bit of a daunting thought to suddenly feel like we’re being thrown out to the wolves without really knowing what to expect.” Cass’ phone, which she wasn’t technically supposed to have but had snuck in anyways, chose that moment to buzz with a text notification. It was from Mat.

Met up with the crew! Can’t wait to see you walk across that stage, Cass. I love you and we’re all so proud of you. Mat had attached a photo of everyone she had brought with her — both sets of grandparents, her parents and siblings, and roommates. 

“Your boyfriend is nauseatingly cute,” Robin observed, looking over her shoulder at the message. 

Cass laughed. “That’s true, but I knew what I was getting myself into.” The music started ten minutes later, and the ceremony began. If Cass was being honest, she didn’t really remember much of anything from the first half of the ceremony, before the conferral of diplomas. She was so excited and nervous and unbelievably ready all at the same time that all she recalled from the dean’s speech and the student speeches were vague comments about their “awesome responsibility” and “duty to pursue truth and justice” and “commitment to fight for what is right over what is easy.” 

As soon as she realized it, her row was being ushered into line to receive their diplomas. “Cassidy María Cabrera Shaw.” She heard her name, but really had no clue who had spoken it. The dean? One of her professors? As Cass walked up the steps and across the stage, the only thing she could think was don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip. Then she was handed a diploma, flashed a brilliant smile for the photographer, and shook hand after hand after hand before walking off the other side of the stage. She was pretty sure she could hear Mat and Noah yelling their congratulations from her seat on the floor. 

Having a name towards the front of the alphabet meant that Cass was almost always called on quickly in class, or on roll call, or at graduation, as the case was. But that meant that she had to sit, quietly and politely, for the other four hundred names to be called. And it took awhile. After Robin Cahill came Wesley Coleman, then Samuel Cogswell, then Fiona Chan. Cass didn’t mind having to sit through the whole thing, especially when Fiona, Les, Samaira, and her other friends crossed the stage — she cheered as much as anybody — but it was a long time to be sitting in a folding chair and the thousands of people packed into a small space didn’t help her temperature regulation. 

There was the benediction and congratulations, and then the recessional of the graduates. Graduates, Cass thought. She was a graduate. She had finished, she was done, she had accomplished the one thing she wanted most to do since she was a little girl watching Legally Blonde for the first time, looking at Elle Woods and thinking I can do that. And she had. Her feet carried her to the back room of their own accord, where she picked up her bag and was engulfed in a flurry of hugs, congratulations, and kisses on the cheek from her friends, the people who she had spent countless late nights in the library with, bar hopping to celebrate the end of finals, and afternoons on each other’s apartment couches, yelling fact patterns at each other and trying to come up with an analysis before the timer went off.  

Following the stream of sky blue graduation gowns, Cass walked outside, waving at her family when she spotted Eliana hanging off of a lamppost in the courtyard to get a better view. Her sister nearly tackled her as she made her way to the group. “Cass. I already knew you were brilliant, and I still think  you’re the smartest out of any of us,” she gestured between the two of them and Noah, “but now you’ve got the degree to prove it. I’m so proud of you.” 

Noah was next. “You worked hard, and I know how badly you wanted this. You’re a really good sister.” He wasn’t usually a big talker, and Cass’ eyes definitely got a little misty as he spoke. He had verbally committed to Minnesota State the week before, and Mat might have been more excited than even Cass when he heard the news. It was an incredible program that had a serious track record of sending players to the NHL, and she was so proud to see her little brother doing what he loved. Her mom and both grandmas were crying, as expected, and Grandpa Joe wrapped her up in a hug as soon as he got the chance. 

Mat had been hanging towards the back of the crowd, not wanting to feel like he was intruding on family time, until her dad nudged him forward. “Go say hi to your girl, Mat,” Patrick said.

“Will do,” Mat said, squeezing Cass’ hand and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Sometimes it blows my mind how incredible you are,” he said. “Everyone’s already said how smart you are, and every bit of that is true. But you’re so much more than that, you know?” His thumb rubbed over her hand. “You’re beautiful, and curious, and you always keep me on my toes. You’re so passionate about your work, and you’ve got the biggest heart out of anyone I know. You’ve never met a person you didn’t want to help. And I promise I’m not biased just because I’m in love with you.” 

Cass gave a watery laugh, blinking and thanking God she had the foresight to wear waterproof mascara. “God, I love you, Mat.”

Her dad had always been the picture type, insisting on documenting every waking moment. He was the living embodiment of “pics or it didn’t happen,” for better or worse. He took a few of her with her law school friends, then Alicia snapped one with just her immediate family, then there was one with everyone. Cass also got a picture with Mat, where he was bending down to kiss her, the tassel on her mortarboard just barely brushing his nose. Then she was in one with all of the seniors on the law review, and a friend pulled her away for a few with the Latinx Student Association. By the time they finally managed to tear Patrick away from his camera, it was time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. 

Mat got Patrick to send him the photo of him and Cass, and was about to post it on Instagram when he hesitated. “Hey, is it cool if I post this?” Mat said, showing Cass his phone. Most people knew who she was, and he had posted pictures of her before, but they had never been this obvious, this clear, this real. 

“Go for it.”

Mat pressed post. So, so proud of my incredible girlfriend @casscshaw for graduating law school. You’re one of the smartest, most empathetic people I know, and you’re going to make an amazing lawyer. 

Cass grinned, a big, genuine smile as she was surrounded by her family, the people who meant the most to her — whether they were related or not. She looked up at Mat, who was smiling softly down at her as he reached one hand up to fix her tassel. “What’s next?”

[notveryglittery]

Flirting With Danger, Ch7

summary: Virgil hates his job and also his life. Logan definitely, for sure knows how to talk to a cute guy without imploding. Remy tries to help, but like… not very hard. words: 2,000 / ships: platonic sleepxiety, romantic analogical notes: hi, did you miss us!! we’ve been at this for awhile but i’m very happy with the result!! @do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them​ is back at it again with lines that make me giggle helplessly :’) 

read on ao3 | Ch1: the first time | Ch2: *mcelroy voice* hotboy! Ch3: sky soliloquy | Ch4: the interview™ Ch5: you have my heart | Ch6: the second time Ch7: is this allowed??

“Rem… please. I have a splitting headache and you are not helping.”

The string of offended curses that followed weren’t helping either. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, maybe if you would just tell me what happened last night, I wouldn’t have to bother you so much about it!”

Virgil took the bell ringing above the door as his chance to get away from his coworker and the relentless badgering. Remy had been at it since Virgil showed up for his shift — which had been a miracle all its own. Of course he hadn’t wanted to leave Patton home alone! Virgil was starting to think he shouldn’t leave Patton alone ever. Sure, he’d been clumsy and accident-prone in their youth but this was kinda getting out of hand. For as long as they’d been living together, Patton had never had encounters with superheroes or supervillains, and suddenly it happens twice in the span of a few weeks? If Virgil didn’t know any better, he’d guess that Patton did have powers, and they were of the bad luck variety.

“Babe. I’m going to find out one way or another.”

Oh, Virgil recognized that tone.

“That’s your ‘I already know but I want your version of the story’ voice.”

Again, spluttered indignation. Virgil knew people often didn’t disagree with Remy (something about his “charm”) but it’d never cease to amaze him how offended he was every time Virgil called him out on something.

“I have no such thing!”

“You kinda do,” Toby called from a booth in the corner where he was currently working on designs for tomorrow’s board.

Remy shot a glare in his direction.

“Linda, your caramel macchiato with soy.”

The moment Linda was out the door and their coffee shop empty, Remy rounded on Virgil.

“Fine! Why was the Prince at your apartment last night!”

Virgil, despite knowing that Remy knew, was still surprised.

“And why was he bridal carrying Patton as if they were newlyweds!”

Virgil blinked, wondering why Remy seemed so hung up on that of all things.

“Does this have anything to do with that attempted jewelry store robbery?”

“Why do you need to hear anything from me when you apparently have all the details?” Virgil frowned. “What the hell, dude, do you have ears everywhere?”

Remy waved his hand dismissively. “Hon, don’t worry about it, just tell me what happened!”

Virgil glanced around the coffeeshop. For the time being, it was empty. They’d just reached that rare slow time between rushes. Other than Toby, who Virgil didn’t mind overhearing anyway since Remy was likely to share with him afterwards regardless, there was no one around to eavesdrop. Sighing, Virgil let Remy wait a few more agonizing minutes while he cleaned up from the last drink and washed his hands before finally getting comfy leaning against the counter.

“Patton accidentally tripped the speedster while they were trying to make their getaway,” Virgil began, trying to ignore the anxiety doing its best to make him worry again. It was in the past! It already happened! Let it go, Virgil. “That kind of fucked up his ankle and then, when trying to remove himself from the situation, he hurt his hand on some glass that had broken from the door.”

Remy was looking more and more distraught with each word and Virgil wondered why his coworker was so worried about his roommate when they hadn’t even met.

“The Prince found out somehow and met Patton at the hospital and offered to help him home. Which, like, that isn’t totally weird. I’m definitely not bothered over this superpowered stranger being so good at finding my best friend, nope, no big deal at all.”

“Okay, okay, we get it,” Remy interrupted. “He probably talked to the police, babe, it’s fine. Besides, he already knows where you live so… whatever, right?”

Virgil scowled at him. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

“Did you give him a piece of your mind?” Toby asked, getting them back on track.

“Did I — No shit, Sherlock!” Virgil snapped. “I’d been trying to get a hold of Patton because he was supposed to be home before me and he wasn’t answering and then I open the door to find him there, in the arms of that hot-headed prick?!”

“No proof that his highness has a temper,” Remy piped up.

“Shut up, it was a pyrokinetic joke and you know it. Anyway, Patton was… already pretty upset and my yelling didn’t help, so that… Uhm.” Virgil trailed off, looking guilty all of a sudden. Remy had a pretty good inkling as to why, but before he could mention it, the bell ringing notified them to another customer. They all quickly pretended they hadn’t been standing there talking for the last ten minutes, but as soon as Virgil looked up, he forgot how to act productive. Logan Roberts? In his coffee shop? It was, apparently, more likely than he thought.

“Uh- hey, welcome,” he said once he remembered how to talk.

Logan smiled, which wasn’t fair. “Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

Virgil thought he might have been teasing, but he still looked so serious, and anyway he was already spilling out words like the gay dumbass he was. “No—we were just, I was telling them about something that happened to my friend yesterday—sorry, I’m an idiot, what did you want? To order?” He cringed as internally as possible and started making plans to never speak again.

Logan took a moment to peruse the menu while Virgil wondered how bad it would look if he ducked out of this particular order and let Remy take care of it. Before he could do so, Logan looked back at him, smiled again, why did he keep having to smile, and spoke.

“I’ll take a black coffee in the largest size you have,” he requested, and Virgil wanted to disappear because of course it was Logan Roberts's first time at their coffeeshop and of course Virgil had to be the one to ring him up.

“On it, babe!” Remy chirped, getting started on the drink, and sounding suspiciously like he knew exactly the gay crisis Virgil was currently experiencing.

Logan's expression soured at the nickname and Virgil hurried to remedy it.

“Ignore him,” Virgil suggested, typing the order into the register. “I'm sure you've dealt with more annoying, anyway.”

“Hey!” Remy shouted.

Logan sighed and adjusted his tie. “Quite,” he agreed, taking out his wallet. “I'm going to need this to interact with certain of my own associates later.”

“At least you’re not interviewing any super-powered pricks today.”

Logan blinked, looking at him with renewed interest. “True. I have to say, it’s refreshing to meet someone else who doesn’t worship the ground he walks on. …Or flies over, as it may be.”

“Same thing I thought watching your interview, dude.” Virgil cracked a smile at the memory, which he hardly ever did for anyone but Patton. “It was, uh… good.” Yes. Great job, Virgil, that wasn’t lame at all. “Patton, though—that’s my roommate—he never shuts up about him. And now I can’t even be annoyed, ‘cause he went and got himself hurt yesterday…” Virgil realized he was rambling, only digging himself deeper into the hole of awkwardness.

Logan, however, had perked up even more.

“Patton Minett?”

In a heartbeat, Virgil was on red alert. He eyed Logan suspiciously as the reporter swiped his card to pay for his drink. “... No.”

“You’ve lived with him for years but go off, I guess,” Remy deadpanned in the background.

“Apologies,” Logan said hurriedly. “I merely wondered if this was the same Patton who prevented a robbery last night. I’ve been trying to find a way to get in contact with him in order to hear the details directly from the source, you see. …If you knew him, I might have asked you to aid me in that endeavor.”

Virgil crossed his arms, searching Logan’s face for anything to actually justify that first instinct of telling him to fuck off. … It wasn’t really his job to decide Patton shouldn’t do this, was it?

“If I know him,” he finally said, “which I’m not saying I do, I wouldn’t go around giving people his information just because they said they wanna talk to him. How about you tell me how to contact you, and then if I know him and if he wants to, he’ll call you or whatever.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Logan remarked wryly. “But I suppose I’m not opposed to your proposal.” He blinked, processed what he’d just said, and winced. “That, ah, was not intentional. Here, before I embarrass myself any further.” He pulled a tiny notepad out of his pocket, because obviously he was the sort of person to carry a tiny notepad around at all times, and scribbled down a phone number. “I hope to hear from you soon,” he said with a smile, and then left before Virgil could collect himself enough to respond. And also without waiting for his coffee. Oops?

“Huh.” Remy watched him walk away, not quite caring enough to run outside and remind him. “Guess he doesn’t get to see that I wrote your number on this cup now.”

“You WHAT?!”

Virgil grabbed the coffee cup out of his hand and slam dunked it into the trash.

“Aww. I was gonna drink that.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore, I’m going on break, do not even try to exist near me or I swear.” He yanked his apron over his head, balled it up, and threw it to the side with only a small glance to make sure it wouldn’t land in a bad place and, like, cause a fire or something. Which was his version of carelessly.

Toby spoke up from his booth, where he’d been shamelessly eavesdropping on everything. “He’s going to scream into a towel, isn’t he?”

“Yup.”

Logan realized he had no coffee before he’d even made it all the way out the door, but it was too late, there was nothing to be done at this point. There was no way he could go back and stand at the counter until it was finished… much like there was no way he could ever set foot in that coffeeshop again. What a disaster. Logan was very good at ordering coffee and very good at establishing contacts to assist in his work, but apparently when the two combined he became completely useless, which had nothing to do with any hypothetical cute baristas he may have particularly wanted to make a good impression on, why would some equally hypothetical person even suggest that? Preposterous.

The mood he found himself in for the rest of the day, resulting from various factors such as “no caffeine” and “series of interpersonal screwups,” meant that everyone else mostly avoided him. Unfortunately, this left him with a lot of time to think. He spent most of that time attempting to rephrase the thought “I hope Virgil calls me soon” into something a bit more professional. This was more difficult that it sounded, as each new clarification left him with the uncomfortable feeling that he was lying to himself.

Virgil didn’t stop screaming into a towel until it was almost the end of his shift anyway, and by that point everyone agreed it would be better if he just went home. He was scaring the customers. He barely remembered his walk back to the apartment building, what with his entire brain being taken up by “holy shit I have Logan Roberts’s number” and “oh my god I looked like such a weird rude idiot in front of Logan Roberts, I can never try to talk to him again ever.” All he knew was that he was at the coffeeshop, and then eventually, he was opening the front door.

“Patton,” he called out, knowing his roommate would be able to hear him from wherever he was. “Please don’t ask me to explain but we have to fucking move.”

[nadziejastar]

"She’s a Mirror That Reflects You”

And Xion was a girl Roxas cared about, which made her like the girl Sora cared about. She was a reflection of Sora’s memories. “That’s why his recovery is stalling,” Riku went on. “They have the part that’s most precious to him—his memories of Kairi.”

Xion prevented Sora from waking up because she was siphoning off his most precious memories, which were the key to his awakening. She was also acting as a mirror—a puppet who was merely reflecting his most precious memories of Kairi. 

He’d been dreaming. It left him in terrible anguish—a nightmare about his two best friends torn away from him because he was too weak to protect them. Because he had lost the use of the Keyblade.

He wondered if Xion had that same helplessness when she couldn’t use her Keyblade. Roxas got up and stared into space. He felt so…heavy. So tired and listless. Like he hadn’t slept at all. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

Was it because of the dreams? But he dreamed all the time. Even if he couldn’t always remember them so vividly, the dreaming was nothing new.

His reflection in the mirror was no different from usual. Maybe his eyes were a little red—probably because he was so tired.

Roxas couldn’t recover because there was a puppet draining him of his strength. 

“Ugh, I’ve got enough on my plate.” He groaned, imagining Saïx’s face if he reported all this.

Those days as a trio had been so wonderful. Why did this have to happen? The memory of his heart twinged. Had the breakdown of a friendship always been this painful? It was hard to tell when he didn’t have a heart anymore.

“Don’t wanna get up…”

But he dragged himself out of bed, taking a huge stretch and cricking his neck. He had to get to the Grey Area early if he wanted to talk to Saïx. Most likely, today would be another bad day.

It’s basically what Organization XIII did to Axel, too. They replaced Isa with Saïx, a puppet created from Isa’s memories. Axel was the Organization’s puppet like Sora would have been if his memories of Kairi had been replaced with Naminé. And I would argue that Saïx was doing the exact same thing to Axel that Xion was doing to Roxas. Unbeknownst to him, his strength and energy were also being drained from him by the puppet.

Outside the window, the moon—the heart-shaped moon—floated. Axel watched it, still sprawled on his bed. There was still a little time before he had to leave on his mission.

To gather hearts, to have hearts of our own, to not let the heart mislead us…

For these past few days, I’ve been thinking about the meaning of Xemnas’ words. To not let the heart mislead us? What does that mean? Whenever I’m alone, these thoughts just float around in my head the whole time. I don’t know why I have to think so much about it. I bet the other Nobodies don’t.

The heart… emotions. I think about their origins. Contemplate it. Reason about it. When did I start doing this?

The truth was, Axel knew when. Maybe I’ve been pretending I hadn’t noticed.

This is a passage from the novel. It’s on Day 117 ~Secrets~. It’s the night before Day 118 ~Lazy Day~. The day Axel spent all day of their vacation in bed sleeping, before joking about his dark secrets to Roxas and Xion. 

Yeah… I started thinking about this stuff when Roxas—no, Roxas and Xion joined the Organisation. 

Those two had lobbed so many questions at him as they grew as Nobodies. Was it just their curiosity that had him thinking so much? But it hadn’t started when they joined the Organization. It was after he’d gotten to know Xion, after Castle Oblivion. 

Anyhow, I have to admit that something is changing inside of me. Before this, I wouldn’t have thought about those kinds of things. Changing… why am I changing?

I called it ‘contemplating’, but it’s just rambling.

Axel felt the waver of an unexpected presence, and sat up in bed.  “Don’t just barge in here—you could at least knock,” he said, in a displeased manner.

It’s also the day Axel complained in his report that Saïx was the one who changed, not him.

Saïx was standing next to the bed. Axel looked away from him and stared at a speck on the wall. However, seeming to not notice Axel’s attitude, Saïx began to speak in his usual tone.

“How has Xion been acting?”

“S’not like I’ve been keeping watch in particular, so I wouldn’t have a clue,” Axel answered in a sulky tone.

“You seem quite close,” Saïx continued.

For a moment, Axel thought about the reasons Saïx could have for being so interested in Xion. 

I already know why Roxas is special. The Nobody of the Keyblade Hero is going to be special.

But, I still don’t have the information to decide how Xion is special compared to other Nobodies. I wanted to know, but now I already understand that it would be useless to ask Saïx to tell me.

“What, am I meant to report even that to you? If you don’t need anything, get out,” said Axel, getting up out of his bed with a violent movement.

Speaking of changes, my relationship with Saïx has, too. I think it’s changed slightly since I’ve had time with Roxas and Xion. I couldn’t really say how, though.

Even in this scene, what’s going through Axel’s mind is that his relationship with Saïx has changed. It’s written to be mostly similar to the game, but there’s an interesting addition to this scene...

“You and Xion are on the same mission today.”

“Thank you ever so much for going to all the trouble to tell me that,” Axel answered, facing the mirror and starting to get ready.

“I need you to go to Castle Oblivion again soon.” Saïx glared at Axel’s reflection, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

“Orders from ‘Lord’ Xemnas?” Axel asked, lips curling.

...A mirror. And I’m sure that was done with very much symbolic meaning in mind.

Saïx didn’t reply to that. “That castle still has secrets. Even there, there are unknown places—”

“Unknown places?” Axel interrupted. He turned his gaze back on his own reflection in the mirror. “You’re talking about that chamber. I’ve scoured the place and I haven’t found it. It won’t be discovered that easily.”

The tension in Saïx’s pursed lips slackened a little. “Very well, I’ll tell you something you’d like to hear. Xion was born in that castle. Just like Naminé was, in that castle.” Saïx was silent for a moment. “The place Naminé and Xion were born—sounds like a place you’d like to go, am I right?”

That’s bait. But there’s no skill in simply taking the bait.

Axel snorted and turned to Saïx. “Well, well, well… it sounds like the one who wants to go to that castle isn’t me, it’s you, am I right?” Axel said, as he stepped past Saïx, out of his field of vision. “Cause if you go to the chamber that Xemnas is searching for—you’ll figure out his true goal, right?”

Because he’s finding it increasingly hard to recognize Saïx as Isa anymore. 

“The Chamber of Repose, and its twin, the Chamber of Waking,” Saïx began, back still turned.

“Xemnas has a goal that he hasn’t told anyone. A clue towards it should be in the Chamber of Waking. If we can get our hands on it, we’ll have the advantage in every conceivable way—for our goal, too.” At that last word, Saïx turned and looked at Axel.

I know… our goal. That part won’t change.

Axel sighed, and said, “Vexen and Zexion were in your way. That’s why they were taken care of—so you’d reach the top of the Organisation, right?” 

It’s almost like I’m telling myself this.

Because he’s not Isa. He’s Xehanort masquerading as Isa.

Us not having hearts doesn’t mean our behavior means nothing.

It doesn’t mean we can’t think. Doesn’t mean we don’t have goals. Acting for the sake of those is something both humans and Nobodies share.

“I do the dirty work, so you better get to the top.” I’m not lying when I tell him this.

Axel looked as Saïx. Saïx stared back.

Yeah… we have a goal. That part won't change.

Saïx turned his back on Axel.

“In a few days, you’ll be sent to Castle Oblivion on a solo mission. Be expecting it,” said Saïx, leaving the room.

Alone, Axel clenched his fists, and followed Saïx out of the room.

Axel is just as much trapped by an illusion as Roxas and Sora. An illusion that keeps him trapped by his most precious memories. But the mirror has to break at some point.

Xion got up and looked in the mirror. 

It’s me. Nothing new.

After getting ready for the day, she went to the Grey Area and found Saïx and Xigbar there.

Xion also had a habit of looking in the mirror. The first time she does, Xigbar and Saïx are there.

Xion washed her face and looked in the mirror. Nothing out of the ordinary about her reflection. 

I’m the same as ever.

Then she left her room and headed for the lobby. Depending on when she showed up, she would run into some of her coworkers and miss others. Today she found no one there except Saïx and Xigbar.

Xigbar and Saïx are there again the second time, too.

Xion got up and took care of her morning routine in front of the mirror in the corner of the room. 

I’m the same as ever.

And yet, I’m not.

She stared hard at the mirror’s reflection. It showed…someone else. But she knew who it was.

The boy who looked like Roxas.

For a moment, she lowered her gaze, then looked again.

Just her.

Her and her identity crisis. Xion laughed at herself.

I have time here. Riku gave it to me.

But not forever. I’ll ruin everything if I stay. I have to decide…before the Organization decides for us.

The third time, she’s alone. Something’s different. She doesn’t recognize her reflection for a moment. This is the day she runs away in Wonderland, and Xigbar and Axel are there. This is also the day Axel told Roxas that Xion was a mirror. I’m excited to see how the KH3D novel writes this scene when it’s localized. It think Axel looking at his reflection while wondering where Braig and Isa were was...intentional, to say the least.

[vvirgils]

Merry Crisis-A Moxiety Fic for all your Christmas needs

Pairing: Virgil x Patton

Description:human AU also technically highschool AU but it’s break so who cares, Roman makes a cameo, fake dating, mutual pining, tooth-rotting fluff, excessive gayness, all that good stuff

Words: 2,817

Warnings: Deceit sneks his way in.

Summary: Virgil doesn’t like having a Christmas party at his house, especially when his ex is going to be there. But having Patton by his side, as a friend-or something more?-makes it better. 

This is my gift to @brighter-side, I hope you enjoy the moxiety and have a wonderful holiday season! Also, shout out to @syzyji for beta reading (i’ll be over soon). Shout out to me for putting like, way too many cliches in here. Someone stop me. @secretsanders @fandersfic-moxiety

“Patton, I need a major favor,” Virgil said, holding the phone to his ear. He checked around the corners of the hallway. No family in sight, and they wouldn’t think anything of him calling his best friend. They were going to be at the party too, and they couldn’t know.

“What is it?” Patton asked, “Is it something big? You’re calling really late.”

“You know Deceit,” Virgil said, looking up and down to make sure no one was up. He checked his watch. 11:00.

“Of course I know Dylan. He only broke your heart into a thousand little pieces and made you an emotional wreck for a week, and by week I mean month.”

“He’s going to be at the Christmas party my family is having. And I need him to think I’ve moved on or he’ll try to pull some more manipulative bullshit over on me, and I really can’t take that right now, Pat,” Virgil said, taking a deep breath. “Could you pretend to be my boyfriend for one night?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Patton said. “It’s tomorrow, at 4:00?”

“Uh-huh. Good night, Patton,” Virgil said.

“Good night.” Patton hung up first, for once in his life.

Ugh. Why did Virgil’s life have to be this complicated? Patton was the only person he trusted to be a fake date, but he also was the only person who Virgil wasn’t sure about in terms of feelings. As in, did he have a crush, or were they just really close friends?

Both of them were gay, too. Well, Virgil was “sexually ambiguous,” but he liked guys. Which Patton was aware of. There were so many possibilities for what could happen between them tomorrow night; Virgil didn’t get any sleep until one.

Patton tapped the red button and put his phone down. Was he actually doing this? Fake-dating his best friend, who he kind of had a few feelings for.

And by a few he meant all of the feelings. He’d had a crush on Virgil for years, but had never gotten it together enough to ask him out. Courage had never been Patton’s strong suit. No matter how much he wanted to be in a relationship, he was always too scared to initiate. Too terrified of getting his heart broken, of being toyed around with. Of someone not caring about him.

If anyone cared about him, Virgil did. Maybe fake dating wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. Fantasies were already swirling around his head, and Patton turned off his phone and shoved it under his pillow. He fell asleep almost immediately, thoughts of Virgil the last on his mind.

***

Virgil woke up in the morning to three texts from Patton.

Should I wear smth special?

Nvm checked the evite

Can I punch D? plz?

No, Virgil replied, I want to do that first. Just show up and be arm candy.

Lol i’m sweet that should be easy.

You’ll do great

He turned off his phone and actually got out of bed. It was...noonish, and he had to get ready for the party. Breakfast came first, but then Virgil was staring at his all-black wardrobe thinking What am I going to wear to a Christmas party?

There wasn’t a single ugly Christmas sweater, or even something red and green. He could get away with black jeans, but not a black t-shirt. Sighing, Virgil called Patton.

“Hey Pat,” he said. Thank goodness they were the same size.

“What’s up, Virgil?” Patton asked, “Is something wrong?” The concern in Patton’s voice was adorable, and Virgil really wished he could actually get the guts to ask him out one of his days.

“So, my wardrobe is um…not quite right for a Christmas party,” Virgil said, “As in, I should have gone shopping for something that is not black like, last week. Do you have a Christmas sweater or something that I could borrow?”

Patton laughed over the phone, and Virgil automatically smiled. The simple sound always cheered him up. “I was actually going to give it to you for Christmas next week, but now is as good a time as ever. It actually matches um, mine,” Patton said. He’d actually thought about taking cute couple pictures in matching ugly sweaters when buying them-but Virgil couldn’t know that. “Because it was a 2 for 1 deal. But it’ll really make Deceit pissed if he thinks they’re, you know, matching because we’re a couple.”

“Yeah, totally,” Virgil said. “Just bring it to the party, you know where I live. See you then.” If only they were actually wearing matching sweaters as a couple…but it wasn’t a possibility. Someone as wonderful as Patton couldn’t possibly like him in that way.

“Will do, see you. Love you,” Patton said. It was their standard goodbye, but he wondered if Virgil could hear what he really meant every time he said it.

“Love you too.” Virgil ended the call and threw the phone at his bed. He did have to get dressed.

***

Like the overeager pining idiot that he was, Patton showed up early. It was three-thirty, he had no business being there, and Virgil was happy to see him.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Virgil said when he opened the door to see Patton. “I am officially sick of Christmas decorations. Glittery snowflakes are the worst.”

“They look really pretty, though,” Patton said, taking in the winter wonderland that Virgil’s living room had been transformed into. “Oh, here’s your sweater.” He handed Virgil the red and green bundle.

“Does this have Christmas lights on it?” Virgil asked, examining the sweater.

Patton pushed the button at the hem of his sweater to make the lights on his sweater turn on. “Yes. Aren’t they great?”

“Not exactly my style,” Virgil said, “but alright. Come on in.” Patton walked in, took off his coat, and put it away in the closet.

Virgil slipped the sweater on over his black t-shirt. “How do I look?” He flicked on the lights.

“You look, um, really good, Virgil.” Patton couldn’t believe how attractive Virgil looked. It fit him perfectly, and the tacky lights almost looked sophisticated on his lean frame. Virgil had done away with the dark eyeshadow today, probably at the request of his mother, and he looked incredibly cozy. Patton wanted to snuggle into his arms.

“Thanks, Pat. Care to give me a hand with stringing oversized Christmas lights across every surface in the house? It should be more bearable if we do it together,” Virgil said, trying to keep things as normal and platonic as possible before guests started showing up. Patton’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and Virgil realized that he was going to have a hard time only pretending to be in love with Patton.

***

It didn’t take long after the party started for the house to fill up. People, people everywhere. If this party wasn’t at his house, Virgil would have stayed home. He kept up his job greeting people at the door and taking their coats, since it beat having to make actual conversation inside. Patton stuck around, although he had a better shot at talking to people at the party than Virgil did.

His parents had invited everyone that Virgil and his brother knew. Since Roman was involved in a gazillion extracurriculars, and had friends from every theatre program he’d ever done, most of the guest list was his friends. Virgil had invited one person: Patton, because he didn’t really know anyone else well enough to want them at his house.

Virgil wondered when people would stop showing up. The closet was getting full, and he wanted to sit down, but the doorbell kept ringing. He opened it again, expecting his father’s coworker, but instead.

Dylan. Great. “Hi, thank you for coming,” Virgil said, plastering a smile on his face as his ex stepped through the doorway.

“I’m happy to be here, V,” Dylan said, handing him a plate of cookies covered in saran wrap. “For you and your family.”

“Thank you very much.” He handed the cookies to Patton. “Hey babe, could you go put these with the rest of the desserts.” Chills darted down his spine as Patton’s face lit up at the words.

Patton gave him a peck on the cheek, and Virgil felt a patch of heat grow where Pat’s lips had been. “Sure thing, hon.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“Can I take your coat?” Virgil asked Dylan, who was still standing there. He wasn’t sure if he had registered what had just happened between Patton and Virgil, but at this point Virgil didn’t really care.

“Sure thing.” Deceit shucked off his coat and deposited it in Virgil’s arms before walking past him. So he had noticed.

Ever the drama queen, Dylan turned around at the last second to face him. “You know, I didn’t think Patton was really your type.” He disappeared into the party, leaving Virgil grinding his teeth as he put Dylan’s coat away. What a nightmare.

Just then, Patton returned to a very grumpy Virgil. “Did he do something while I was gone?” Patton asked. When Virgil didn’t answer right away, Patton pressed, “Do I need to punch him?”

“No, absolutely not. He just…made a comment. You ready to make him incredibly jealous of how cute of a couple we are?” Virgil looped an arm around Patton’s shoulders.

“Yes,” Patton said, looking away as he blushed. Virgil was so warm, and they were so close. He really, really wanted to kiss him. “Snack table?”

Heat rushed to Virgil’s cheeks. “Snack table.” They walked over, saying hi to people as they passed. Several people took note of their closeness, and the way that Virgil was, er, pretending to look in love with Patton.

It was working, so that was great. They had a good time, eating food and holding hands, looking casually flirtatious enough that anyone would think they were together. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too awkward. Talking to each other felt normal, they were just…holding hands at the same time. Not bad. People bought it.

Most importantly, Deceit bought it. He spied them laughing and talking together from across the room. Virgil could feel his glare burning into the back of his neck, but he didn’t really care. Patton was laughing at a joke he had told.

Then, Dylan started to walk over.

***

“Hey Patton, you know that thing couples do where they stare into each others eyes and start walking off into the distance and everyone assumes they’re going to the bedroom to get it on,” Virgil half-asked, taking a quick glance at Deceit. Yep, he was still moving in this direction.

Patton looked startled by the statement. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Why do you mention…?” He trailed off, following Virgil’s line of sight. “Oh.”

“We should probably do that,” Virgil said. “I do not want to talk to him right now.”

“Ok.” Pat wrapped both his arms around Virgil’s shoulders and gave him a look that made Virgil’s legs turn into jelly. “I’m whispering something that only the two of us would understand and is probably um, PG-13,” he whispered.

“I’m replying something that’s a little closer to R-rated,” Virgil said, his voice dropping a few octaves. He rested his arms around Patton’s waist. Patton had no idea that Virge was such a good actor, must be a side effect of having Roman around. Still, he was blushing like crazy, and couldn’t stop himself from taking a gratuitous stare at Virgil’s lips.

They stood up, and just in time. Dylan was trying to get past a gaggle of gossiping middle-aged women.

“Is this, um, when we realize that there are other people and switch to holding hands and shooting each other covert stares as we move to a more private area?” Patton asked, his eyes sending a much more suggestive message. It took Virgil a moment to register what he had said.

“Sure, but not without giggling at an inside joke,” Virgil said, laughing a little as he took Patton’s hand. They half-jogged to Virgil’s bedroom, strategically staying as far away from Deceit as possible.

***

Virgil shut the door behind them. He could have sworn Deceit had followed them down the hallway.

“So, now that we’re far away from your snakelike ex, what’s next for the couple who needs some alone time?” Patton asked, still holding Virgil’s hand as he sat down on the bed.

“I guess the cliche would be a long makeout session and then fade to black,” Virgil said, only half-joking. He would really like to be kissing Patton right now.

“Is this your life or a Hallmark movie?” Patton asked, giving Virgil a look of mock confusion. “The Virgil I know would rather watch Coraline.”

“Maybe my tastes have changed, you know,” Virgil said, trying to look anywhere but Patton. So this was the end of their disappointing fake-dating charade.

“Really, because I have like, twenty movies I need you to see,” Patton said, enthusiasm building in his voice. He inched a bit closer to Virgil on the bed.

“Don’t subject me to the torture just yet,” Virgil said, “I’m just recovering from a certain liar who I do not want to get back together with.” At least Patton is holding my hand, he thought.

“Fine, but after the party…” Patton sighed. Virgil’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

Hoping it wasn’t anything big, probably just an automatic message or something, Virgil opened it up. One message from Least Favorite Brother Named Roman

ur ex is about to barge into ur room in like 10 seconds bc hes a massive asshole i guess? Some bs like that

Virgil took one second to process the text before turning to Patton and kissing him full on the mouth. Both of them froze, shocked, but then they kept kissing. Virgil’s hand reached up to caress Patton’s cheek. Patton deepened the kiss, making it slower, softer, more passionate.

It was, without a doubt, the best kiss Virgil had ever had. Patton wasn’t forcing his tongue down Virgil’s mouth, he wasn’t even in a hurry to take his shirt off. There was just his soft lips and the gentle tug around Virgil’s waist as Patton pulled him closer. For a second, Virgil forgot the moment wasn’t real, and they were just kissing in case someone happened to barge in. He got lost in the faint taste of chocolate chip cookies and the smell of Patton’s shampoo.

His phone buzzed again. Virgil was just going to ignore it when Patton broke away from the embrace. “You should probably, um, check it,” Patton said.

Nvm he just left in a hissy fit

“I am going to kill my brother,” Virgil said, turning his phone off and flipping it over.

“That seems a little…harsh. What did he do?” Patton asked, still trying to sound normal. He didn’t feel normal. He felt anything but normal. Virgil had just kissed him, like, out of the blue, and it was an excellent kiss. Probably the best he’d ever had, and Patton wasn’t even sure if it was real. Or why Virgil had kissed him. His brain was still too muddled to figure it out.

“So, he texts me that Deceit is about to barge in here because he’s an asshole, blah blah, so I…” Kissed you, Virgil thought but didn’t say. “Then, he texts me that the snake has just left the party. I was really nervous and I thought something very bad was going to happen!”

“Well, it’s a good thing that it didn’t,” Patton said, trying to be the voice of reason here, even as his heart was slowly breaking into pieces. So it wasn’t real. “I mean, it wasn’t a bad kiss.”

“Yeah, that’s a good thing,” Virgil said. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Locking lips with Patton had really done something to him. Maybe he should like, tell Patton that it meant something to him, that he actually had an enormous crush on the dude.

So, Virgil opened his mouth to say, “I really like you and I’ve kind of wanted to date you for real for ages but now that I’ve kissed you I feel like I can’t not tell you.”

At the same time Patton said, “Virgil, I’m in love with you and I really hope that the kiss meant something to you because it did to me. I’ve liked you for a long time and I want to be more than friends.”

They both stopped, looking into each others eyes. “We’re idiots,” Virgil said. “Absolute idiots.”

“Maybe we should have skipped fake dating and gone straight to the real thing.” Patton smiled, and Virgil smiled back. It was real. All of it.

“Nothing about this is straight, and you know it,” Virgil said, pulling Patton in for another kiss. This was better than any Christmas present.

[sugarless-suki-writes]

Panic

Rating: T Word Count: 2,998

Read on Ao3

Support me on Ko-Fi!

More vent, yay;;;;

Appearance are based on my sona

CW/TW: Stalking, Identity Crisis

(Left to Right: Suki, Plum & Bug. Art by @bitter-plum-art

As soon as Suki walked through the door, they made direct eye contact with him. They kept their expression stoic, quickly turning into the hallway and walking towards the sever's station. They didn’t know he’d be working tonight. They should’ve. He always worked weekends. Their stomach started to knot, a hard ball forming in the pit of their stomach as their hands began to shake.

The Hanged Man, See No Evil.

Their jaw set as their fangs dug into the skin of their lip. What utter bullshit.... What kind of cryptic bullshit was that? What did he think sending them a weird, cryptic, “poetic” message would do? And to send one to the other two? Suki didn’t care for that, not at all....

With a sigh, they walked up to the front, greeting their friends and coworkers as they set their bag down, then proceeded to head towards the back once more to get dressed.

The uniform was easy to put on, and they did it quickly. They then went into the server’s station to make themselves a drink, a cucumber water; they were trying to get better about drinking water and cut back on their soda/caffeine intake.

Their hands were trembling.

As they plopped the cucumbers in the glass and reached for the ice scoop, they heard the dish bin get slammed down and a chill ran down their spine as they felt eyes on them.

He was there.

They didn’t dare turn around.

Thankfully he didn’t stick around to stare but so long. Once they felt his eyes leave, Suki turned around to fill their glass with water. They almost dropped the glass in the sink.

Their head was pounding, their stomach was doing flips, and they felt like they could puke.

They set the water down on the table in the server’s station and ripped the paper off of a straw, sticking it in and casually tossing the paper to the side, towards the trash can. They took a long sip before reaching for the pill bottle on the counter, pressing down on the cap and unscrewing it. The grabbed two excedrin and then closed the bottle. Taking another sip of water, they popped the pills in their mouth and swallowed. The orthodontist today was rough, they didn’t need creepy stalker man on top of it. At least they could kill their headache.

They took another sip of water, soothing the strange feeling in their throat. It was still new to them to swallow pills; they still had to fight off the innate fear that tried desperately to claw its way to the surface. Why their preschool teachers thought it was a good idea to give four year olds hard candy, they would never understand. But at least now they were working past it.

Suki made their way back up to the front, just in time for their first table to walk in. A 5 top. Great. Seems like this is how their Friday night was going to go.

Once they were seated, Suki greeted them warmly. Two of the five were still on their way, but they all wanted water, and 3 iced coffees. Easy. They went to the back and put in the iced coffee orders and grabbed a tray. They set everything up before making the waters and bringing them out to the table. Once that was done, they went back into the kitchen, walking to the sushi bar and grabbing the three containers that held the coffee grounds.

Eyes.

They made quick work of walking back to the sever’s station. They uncapped the coffee and poured the grounds into the brewer and poured hot water into all three. They then turned around to make three glasses of ice, for the coffee.

Eyes.

Pressure.

Presence.

Stop stop stop stop stop.

Once the glasses were done, Suki turned around and, lo and behold, there he was. He was pretending to look at the coffee they were brewing. Suki slid past him, trying to keep some form of distance from him in the confined space, but he had started to turn around, making the space smaller and almost touching them. They did their best to not grimace, focusing on getting their tray prepped.

They could see him out of the corner of their eyes, taking his time putting ice in his cup, moving so much slower than usual. Standing in front of the soda machine and just staring.

Eyes. Eyes. Eyes.

The Hanged Man, See No Evil.

Suki was quick to walk out of the sever’s station, plastering a warm, welcoming, fake smile on their face.

Their customers were nice. Suki wished they could enjoy them....

It shouldn’t be like this. They shouldn’t have this overwhelming sense of dread coming into their place of work. They felt safer walking the downtown city streets alone at night than in their own workplace.

Every single male/male-presenting person they had interacted with/met lately had just been... awful. Of course, male-presenting people always set off at least one or two red flags, they all did. Every single one of them. That was normal, even though it shouldn’t be. You just have to ignore them before you can properly judge a person. That’s what they did with this guy.

He set off some flags. The three of them thought he might just be weird. Nothing wrong with weird. He barely talked. Could barely make eye contact with them. They talked about DND one night, and so he made a Discord account so he could join in a campaign.

That’s when it started. He friended Suki and Bug, but did absolutely nothing with Plum. He started messaging Suki. Just a sentence a night. Never replied to anything Suki said. One night, he sent them a compliment. Being polite, they thanked him. Then they changed their hair. It was the first time they had ever dyed it. They were so excited.

They came in to do the numbers for the restaurant that night, and as they were leaving, one of the managers walking with them, as he always did. (Previous employees had been attacked at night, so he went out with all the servers to make sure they got to their cars safe). They turned to wish the others a good night. He looked up, said some garbled nonsense, not even really words, something akin to a verbal keysmash, and went back to the dishes. Their manager laughed his fucking ass off. Suki simply raised an eyebrow as they furrowed together and let out a weird chuckle, mostly laughing because their manager was losing his mind and that always made them laugh.

“What was that?” he had asked as they walked out the door, before it had even closed behind them.

“I have no idea.”

That night he sent them a message, saying he was “taken aback”. It had made them slightly uncomfortable but they said thank you anyway. In all honesty, they thought it was kind of funny. Did he have a crush? After only talking to them a grand total of 5 times, each of those times just being one sentence from the both of them? They had to admit, it was a little ridiculous.

Then he had asked them out to lunch, and Suki was just... taken aback. It was unexpected. They... barely knew each other? He couldn’t even look them in the eye. They meant to reply, they really did, but they just kept forgetting, and every way they tried to phrase it in their head just sounded mean so they just.... didn’t.

The bell in the back dinged, drawing Suki out of their thoughts. Their food was ready. They let out a huff and stood up from the server’s table and walked towards the back. One roll combo and four dinner combos, three of which had tempura. This was gonna be fun to bring out...

They grabbed a tray and started to set two of the bento boxes on it, the ones that were ready. They had to finagle with it a bit, trying to find space to put the tempura sauce.

Pressure.

Presence.

Eyes.

He walked up behind them and stood there. They were off to the side, leaving the small walkway clear. He could’ve easily walked by. Out of the corner of their left eyes they could see him flipping the dish bin. Why wasn’t he walking by?

Stop staring stop staring stop staring stop staring stop staring stop staring stop staring stOP STARING STOP STARING STOP STARING!!!!

They finished putting what they could on the tray, picked it up along with another box with their other hand, and walked out of the kitchen.

He followed right behind.

Suki plastered a smile on their face.

It shouldn’t be like this... They shouldn’t feel scared to be in the back, thinking this fucking freak is going to come up and shank them if they weren’t careful. Their chef shouldn’t have to be waiting by the bathroom everytime he goes, holding a knife and waiting for him to come out with a gun. These complete, asinine, awful, insane and downright predatory interactions they’ve been having with men shouldn’t be making them question their sexuality, their gender.

For a while now, a couple months at least, Suki had been questioning their gender. They had never really felt comfortable in their body, and whether that was from all the bullying or the dysphoria.. that was something they figured a therapist could help them with, whenever they had the time to find one. But now.... they weren’t sure.

Maybe I’m not nonbinary.

I don’t want to come across masculine in any way.

I don’t want to be associated with them.

Maybe I’m cis.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.....

They had talked about it recently, on the ride home from work one night with Plum and Bug. Maybe part of the problem was they still thought along the lines of the binary - viewing being nonbinary as some sort of in between of masculine and feminine, male and female. But could they really be blamed? It’s how they were raised to think. It’s what society wanted. It’s how things were and they weren’t going to change so quickly over night, not here, not now, especially not in the south, where they lived.

Either way, all these interactions were making them question everything about themselves. Sure, Suki had never been the fondest of men in the first place; they’d only been in two relationships, both with men, both abusive, one long term and recent and still a very much open, festering wound.

Men made them uncomfortable.

Men pushed their boundaries.

Men hurt them one too many times.

Men were borderline repulsive at this point.

Maybe I’m a lesbian...

Maybe I should start identifying as that.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

The night dragged on. He continued to come to the server’s station. Suki’s trembling never ceased; it slowed, but it never stopped. They came close to dropping glasses and dishes and trays multiple times. They bought food, hoping that would be the solution, but he came back so many times. He checked the dishes more often. He made small, very small trips to return the dishes to their proper places, trips he could’ve easily, and usually would condense, he continued to fill up his drink as slow as possible, and more frequently than normal.

Suki couldn’t eat.

They didn’t feel comfortable.

They didn’t feel safe.

The Hanged Man, See No Evil.

After Suki’s silence, he latched onto Bug. He posted music, raps specifically, in the group chat they had, and he messaged Bug whenever they worked together, just like he had with Suki. It was funny. The raps were terrible; the beats were okay, but his voice and lyrics were just... Let’s just say it sent the trio off to other planes of existence.

As he messaged Bug, he got aspects of the three of them confused, mixing them into one being and projecting them onto Bug. While Bug did take dance classes, they never mentioned them at work, Suki had, multiple times, loudly. Plum plays the cello. Both Plum and Bug draw. He once complimented Bug on how artistic they were, thinking it was crazy that they “dance, play the cello, and draw.” It was hilariously bad. A poor attempt. They laughed about it for days.

Eventually, he asked Bug out as well. Bug, of course, turned them down. They were very polite about it. He sent an odd... poetic message that made no sense. Then, the next day, he posted a new rap in the chat, that had other people in it as well, it was their group’s DnD chat afterall.

It was a diss rap.

He mentioned them by name, twice.

He talked about murder.

It wasn’t so funny anymore.

The red flags grew larger, brighter, blaring.

They laughed nervously and weren’t too eager to go into their next shift after that.

He later sent Bug another song, this time to their DMs. It was their name in all caps. After writing, creating, and posting such an angry, hateful, terrifying track in a public group chat, he made a song about how they were meant to be but there was *~*something*~* between them and keeping them apart. They told him his songs were making them uncomfortable. They weren’t as nice that time. They had to be blunt. They told him to stop.

A couple days later, at 4 a.m., he sent all three of them his final messages and, supposedly, deleted Discord.

They blocked him just to be safe.

They couldn’t take any risks.

They’ve been through this before, multiple times.

They knew what to do.

They knew what needed to be done.

It shouldn’t be like this.

They shouldn’t have to put up with this.

Suki shoved back any feeling of dread, anxiety, panic - they had a job to do. They needed to push through. They couldn’t afford to have a panic attack. They couldn’t show any sign of weakness. Not around him. They’d been through this before. They knew how to deal with stalkers. They’d had three in the past. They just needed to push down the panic. They needed to ignore it. She needed....

The end of the night couldn’t come quickly enough. When it did, Suki was grateful. They sat down with their receipts, doing their readings and chatting idly with Plum, Bug, and Hail. Once all their stuff was done and they were clocked out, they sat at the server’s table. They wanted to speak to their manager, but they needed to wait for him to leave.

They sat there, quietly, on their phones as they waited. It was nice. It was peaceful. It was what they needed after today.

“Alright, hope y’all have a good night.”

His voice made their stomach drop. A pain, sharp like a knife, twisted into Suki’s heart as fear and dread and panic and terror gripped them in an instant. They didn’t look up. They couldn’t. They continued to scroll through Twitter.

When had he walked up?

She didn’t hear him.

She heard him walk away though, his footsteps heavy against the laminate floor. He was probably pissed he got no response.

Drama queen.

He was a big drama queen. He thought he was an important figure in their lives. How could he be though? They only knew him for, cumulatively, 2 days. The only thing he had done was made the three of them nervous around white cars and fill them with dread when they came in to work at night. One could argue that that was an impact, but it was nothing new to the trio. They’d been stalked before, multiple times. They had a restraining order on someone. They knew what needed to be done.

They shouldn’t have to know.

It wasn’t long before their manager was done with his side work and he was joining them at the front of the restaurant. They then proceeded to tell him everything in great detail. He didn’t emote as they talked, voicing their concerns and Suki trying to keep themself calm and in check.

“In his message to me, he told me that he could handle a no, but not silence. Clearly he can’t handle a no, seeing as he wrote a diss track about Bug when they politely, politely, turned him down.”

Once they were all done, he sat there for a moment before shaking his head. “Man, I wish y’all had told me before he left!”

“We wanted to wait until he was gone. This isn’t our first rodeo, we know what we need to do to stay safe.” Plum said.

“Yeah, yeah I know. But man, I wish I had known. I’d’ve went and “talked” to him. You know...” He didn’t use air quotes, but they were implied in his tone. “Y’all... You guys know we’re all like family around here. We’re close. I’m here to look out for ya. I’ll talk with Billiford about it. We’ll take care of this.”

“Yeah, I talked to Billium before he left, but I couldn’t say too much cause he just kept walking by.” Plum said. “He said he was going to talk to you so..”

“Yeah, I’ll remind him. I’ll make sure to remind him. Man... maaan I really wish y’all had told me earlier.”

“We don’t want you killing a man.” Bug said with a laugh.

“I’d bail you out.” Suki said immediately.

“I think we all would.” Timothy replied, taking a pull from his “addiction stick” as he referred to it.

They chatted for a bit longer before they all walked out. The parking lot was desolate and Suki felt themselves breathe a little easier. Their manager walked the three of them to their car and watched as they got in. They then began to make their way home, keeping an eye out for white cars.

The Hanged Man, See No Evil.

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Imagine Me and Mew

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court.  Follow up to Name Games and That Cocky F*%!ing Smile.  Neil greatly enjoyed getting coffee with his new friend, Andrew, until his coworkers inform him he went on a date.  An existential crisis, bad googling decisions, and contemplation of his sexuality ensue.  Read on AO3 if you prefer.

Neil slid into his seat and sighed at the enormous lineup of material to translate that had materialized in his inbox over the weekend.  Jean glanced up at him with concern but didn’t comment.  Neil sighed again, louder, when Sara popped around the corner.

“How are my favorite linguists?” she practically shouted.  Both Neil and Jean cringed.

“Fine,” they chorused.

Sara leaned against Neil’s desk.  “How was your weekend?  Do anything fun?”

Neil shrugged.  “Um, King got a urinary tract infection, so I spent the morning at the vet’s.  Then I had coffee with someone before I went to trivia night.”

“Which, damn, Neil, you’re terrible at trivia,” Jeremy said, appearing on the other side of Jean.  He always did that, appearing out of thin air; Neil wondered if he secretly had trapdoors in the floor or something.  Or an invisibility cloak like that kid in that weird movie about wizards that Nicky had bullied him into watching.

“No shit.  I told you that.  I keep telling you that.”

“Wait, back up, you had coffee with someone?” Sara practically squealed.  “Anyone we know?”

Mr. Rheman’s timely arrival provided Neil with a reprieve until lunch, but he knew the whole crew would descend on him for details.  They did that every time he spoke two words to someone, even half the people he was interpreting for.  It made no sense to him, why they cared about every simple interaction.

The only reprieve from the tedious work—Mandarin was still his weakest written language and of course Jean was useless with it—was the text he received from Andrew.  free 9 tonight or 6 tomorrow  

He texted back either fine and shoved his phone back in his jacket.  Half the time he’d forget to eat dinner until ten or eleven at night anyway, only thinking about it when King started screaming at him for her own food.

It felt like he had barely made a dent in the queue when Jean tapped him on the shoulder for lunch.  He blinked away the fuzziness of four hours looking at his computer screen and checked his phone.  Andrew had sent him a restaurant name for them to meet at that night.  At least he might have a little time to look up more lawyer jokes.

He had almost forgotten Sara’s shark-like interest until he approached the table in the lunch room and saw her looking at him with wide, sharp eyes.  Stifling his desire to pick another table, he dropped into the chair across from her.  Jean and Jeremy sat on either side of him.  Surrounded. 

“So, tell us all about yesterday,” Sara said, twirling her fork in her noodles.

“I told you already, I took King to the vet.  I got coffee.  Well, actually, I got a smoothie, then went to trivia night.”

“You said you met someone for coffee.”

“Yeah?”  Neil didn’t understand the emphasis she put on met.

“Who?”

Neil still didn’t get why she cared, nor why Jeremy and even Jean were so attentive.  He took a bite of his sandwich to buy himself time to puzzle it out but was unsuccessful.  “Nobody you know, I met him at the vet and we decided to get coffee.”

“Ah!” Sara said, pressing her hand to her heart.  “Did you hear that, Jeremy?  Our baby boy is growing up.”

Jeremy grinned.  “Good for you, Neil.”

“I still don’t understand that nickname,” Neil said, looking between them.  “And I drink coffee every day, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.  Jesus, it wasn’t even coffee.”

Jean huffed, a tiny sound, and Neil shifted his glare to him.  Usually Jean was the one he could count on to dismiss the idiocy of the other two, but even he looked amused.  “It’s not the coffee, you fool,” he said in French, leaving Neil even more confused.  

“We’re just happy you went out on a date,” Jeremy said, taking pity on him.

“It wasn’t a date,” Neil said, “it was a smoothie.”

Sara and Jeremy exchanged looks.  “Uh, did he know that it wasn’t a date?” Jeremy asked.

“Of course!  Why the hell would he think it was a date?  We just sat around drinking and mocking each other for an hour.”

“Oh, god,” Sara said, putting her head in her hands.  “Oh, god, oh, god, that poor guy.”

Neil just looked between them with a sinking feeling in his gut.  He didn’t know why Andrew would have thought it was a date; why he would even have been interested in such a thing with someone with Neil’s fucked up face, but… I doubt they’re looking at your scars.  “Shit.”  Shitshitshitshitshit.

Jeremy immediately picked up on his distress.  “Maybe he didn’t.  Walk us through it, how did it happen?  You said you met at the vet?”

“Yeah,” Neil said, drawing out the syllable.  “Um, there was a misunderstanding so this asshole vet assistant pulled us both into a room and while we were waiting we talked a little.  Then the assistant made a snarky comment about King’s name and I, well…”

“You did what you do,” Sara supplied.

“Right.  Anyway, he joined in on my side.  So then we decided to get coffee.”

“How, exactly?”  Neil looked at Jeremy blankly.  “Like, while you were waiting, you made some comment about needing coffee and he was like, yeah, me too?”

“I gave him my number,” Neil said, feeling the heat rise in his face.  “He texted me after, inviting me for a drink.  I told him I don’t drink, so he suggested coffee.”

Sara laughed while Jeremy patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.  “It’ll be fine.”  Jeremy’s voice indicated it would not be fine.  “Do you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Neil said, hearing his own agitation and drawing a slow breath to quiet it.  “I mean, he’s funny, and he’s smart.”  He shrugged.

“But is he hot?” Sara asked.

Neil had absolutely no idea how one even decided that.  Were there some sort of set guidelines that pushed someone into the “hot” category?  He wondered if there was a website that explained this sort of stuff.  He’d have to google it when he got home.

“Alvarez!  Knox!” Rheman barked through the lunch room door, coming to his rescue for the second time that day.  “Stop torturing the new guy!”

“I’m not that new,” Neil said, but everybody ignored him.

“Why are you singling us out?” Sara asked.  “Jean’s here too!”

“Because Moreau is the only mature one out of the lot of you.  Get back to work!”

“Hear that?” Jean said, looking haughty as only a true Frenchman can.  “I’m the mature one.”

“Fuck off,” Sara said, setting the rest of them laughing as they threw their trash away and headed back to their desks.  “And you owe me ten bucks, Frenchie!”  Jean flipped her off.  Neil wondered what the bet had been.

After work he headed to the gym.  Nicky was there, of course, greeting everyone and keeping an eye out for who needed spotters or help with the equipment.  His whole face lit up when he saw Neil and he jogged over.  “Hey!  How’s my favorite new cat parent?”

Neil managed to keep from rolling his eyes.  Nicky constantly asked after King, which he supposed made sense since he was responsible for foisting her—and her gender-bending name—upon him in the first place.  “I’m fine.  King has a urinary tract infection, though.”

“Oh, poor kitty.”

“She’s feeling better.  I took her to the vet.”

Nicky ruffled his hair.  He always tended to do that, even when it was all sweaty and gross.  “Of course you did, I knew you’d take good care of her.”

Neil got on the treadmill and started running, keeping an easy pace for the first mile then upping the speed.  It was one of the few guaranteed ways to clear his head, but after eight miles at a pretty good pace he still didn’t know what to do about that night.  And though he was pretty sure Nicky would be all too happy to help, he also knew that absolutely, without a doubt, he would rather trust strangers on the internet than Nicky with this type of question.

Managing to escape the gym without further hair-ruffling or questions, he went home and sat with King on his lap and his laptop open on the table.  Staring at the open browser screen, he tapped his fingers on his thigh for a moment until the cat decided he was trying to play and smacked his hand.  

He typed What makes a guy hot into the search engine.  Over ninety million results.  He clicked on a few, and only ended up more confused.  Pictures of shirtless men holding kittens, comments about “quiet confidence” and strange things like “rolled up sleeves” and “being able to cook.”  Then there was the stuff that Neil didn’t even know what to do with, like “being gentle in bed” and “getting a boner in Target.”  

Neil was not cut out for this, that much was clear.

He checked his phone, half-hoping Andrew would bail on him but no such luck. He fed King and  left, giving himself plenty of time to get lost because the one-way streets in this city followed no obvious logic.  The end result was he sat in his car for twenty minutes listening to Tagalog podcasts before he saw Andrew walking towards the entrance.  Breathing in for a count of four, out for a count of four, he joined him.

“No sweatpants today I see,” Andrew greeted him.

Neil looked down at his suit pants.  He had changed back into his work suit after showering at the gym and hadn’t thought to change again, just left his tie and jacket on the back of his couch.  He looked back at Andrew, lost.  

“Come on,” Andrew said with laughter in his voice, pushing through the door.

It was kind of like a burger joint, but nicer.  They ended up seated in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, Andrew claiming the bench against the wall so Neil’s back was to the rest of the room.  At least they were right next to an emergency exit, but he was barely able to restrain the cringe when the waitress appeared out of nowhere.

Her smile faltered for a second when she noticed Neil’s scars but she hitched it back on quickly.  Somehow Neil was not surprised that Andrew ordered a milkshake.  An alcoholic milkshake, but still.  

Neil looked furtively at Andrew, still trying to figure out how one could determine “hotness”.  Andrew had a cat; it wasn’t a kitten, but maybe that counted?  His sleeves weren’t rolled up, but the waitress’s had been and Neil definitely didn’t think it was anything special.  They were just arms.  He didn’t know if Andrew could cook, and there was no way he was going to ask about the boner thing…

The easy rapport of the day before was gone, and Neil didn’t know how to find it.  Andrew didn’t seem interested in making conversation for the sake of hearing himself talk, and Neil didn’t know what to say.  How did you ask someone if you were on a date?

Andrew was watching him with what could have either been concern or irritation.  Neil flinched involuntarily; he hadn’t even realized his leg was doing the bouncing thing again, vibrating the whole table.  He saw Andrew’s eyes darken as a result.  “Sorry.  I, um.”  There was no good way to explain this, either his current nerves or the fact that he had been beaten as a child for that habit.  “Sorry.”

“Do you not want to be here?” Andrew asked.  

It was entirely possible that in his twenty five years on the planet Neil had never met someone quite as blunt as this man, yet he still felt like he was missing pages of subtext.  “No, I do.  I just…”  He rubbed his face, another nervous habit.  “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Andrew’s mouth twitched as if he were suppressing a smile.  “You astonish me.”

“Oh, go to hell,” Neil said, feeling the whispers of a smile himself.

“It’s entirely possible I’m already there.  What exactly is the problem here?”

It suddenly occurred to Neil that he had absolutely no good way out of this.  If Andrew wasn’t gay, he could end up with a royally pissed, very short but very muscle-y man across the table from him.  If he was, Neil was likely about to hurt his feelings by being completely unsure if they were dating or if he wanted them to be.  And if he ran, well, that would just be embarrassing.  Plus he might never stop, and he was pretty sure his FBI handlers would have something to say about that.

He settled for the truth.  “My coworkers informed me that our trip to the cafe yesterday could be considered a date.”

Andrew’s expression did not change from mild amusement.  “Oh?  And what did they say about this?”  He gestured to the restaurant.

“I didn’t tell them.”

“Why not?”  Still no change in expression but there was a tinge of venom in his tone.

“Because they were already way too excited and I didn’t want to hear it when I don’t even know if you’re gay.  Fuck, I don’t even know if I’m gay.”  He suddenly remembered Sara crowing that Jean owed her money.  “Oh, shit.”

“What new revelations are coming forth?” Andrew asked.

“That’s what they were betting on.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Andrew’s spiked milkshake and Neil’s iced tea.  Neil gulped half of it.

“Who was betting on what?” Andrew asked once the waitress was well out of earshot.

“Sara and Jean.  After they informed me you probably thought yesterday was a date, Sara said Jean owed her ten bucks.  I bet they were betting on whether or not I was gay.”

“Your coworkers need help.  Or a hobby that does not involve betting on the lives of humans.”  Andrew waited for a moment, then went on.  “This is only a date if you want it to be one.  You said yesterday you were trying to make friends, I thought that was pretty clear.  But even if it wasn’t, that doesn’t matter.  If it’s not a yes, it’s a no.”

Neil thought about that.  He wondered if it was a general dating rule, or an Andrew rule.  “That makes it a lot less complicated.”

Andrew did that thing where he arched one eyebrow but didn’t comment.  Neil wondered what it was like to have one’s eyebrows trained to speak for you.  Maybe it was a lawyer thing.  After all, it could sway a jury but would be impossible for the court reporter to transcribe.  The prosecution raised an eyebrow, conveying the stupidity of the defense.  He pushed the whole thing away as ludicrous.  

Neil somehow managed to get his brain online again and asked about the seminar.  A conventional enough question, but Andrew answered him anyway, going on at some length about the horrors of bad lecturers and asshole classmates.  He managed to convey a great deal about the individuals with very little change in facial expression, just by subtle shifts of his voice and the angle of his mouth.  It was oddly engaging.

They didn’t leave until the restaurant practically kicked them out, vacuuming aggressively in their vicinity.  He wished he hadn’t already used his best lawyer jokes; he wasn’t able to think of a good one when they said good-bye.  King gave him an enthusiastic greeting, wrapping around his legs as if he hadn’t already fed her, and he picked her up and nestled his face in her fur.  He got ready for bed with her perched on his shoulder, her little body vibrating with the force of her purr.

He set the alarm on his phone, then hovered over Andrew’s latest text, debating.  Finally, he typed quickly and hit send.

How do lawyers sleep?

It took a few minutes before the phone chimed.

First I lie on one side then I lie on the other.  Talk tomorrow idiot

Tomorrow.  He had never gone to bed looking forward to the next day; it was just another thing to get through, to survive.  But in the dim light from the streets coming through the blinds, he fell asleep with a faint smile on his lips.  

[lobsterlobster1990]

Chapter 2 

Monday

Michonne came home tired from a stressful but productive day.

“Mommy!” Andre came toddling across the living room towards her with a big grin on his face.

Michonne scooped him up into a hug, kissing his forehead.

“How was he?” she asked the new nanny.

“Good. He was fussy at nap time, though,” Rick answered.

Michonne gave him a sympathetic smile, “He’s like that for me too, more often than not.”

“Well, have a good evening, ma’am,” Rick said as he gathered his jacket, then to Andre, “See you tomorrow, buddy!”

When he was gone, Michonne looked around. All of Andre’s toys were put away. In the kitchen, the dishes from their rushed breakfast were gone from the sink. In fact, the counters were spotless and there was a hint of lemon freshness in the air.

“Nice,” Michonne said to herself. She could get used to this.

……………………………

Tuesday

As Michonne was fixing dinner, she noticed a piece of what was obviously Andre’s artwork taped to the fridge. There was a crayon drawn house in the midst of some colorful scribbles. In the corner of the paper, written neatly in pen, were Andre’s name and the date.

It was a small gesture, sticking a child’s drawing on the fridge, but it struck Michonne as very thoughtful. The old nanny had never bothered to do anything of the sort.

………………………………

Wednesday

That morning when Michonne was passing Andre off to Rick, he asked if she would be comfortable with him taking Andre for a walk to the neighborhood park. Michonne agreed and showed him where the stroller was kept.

When she got home that night she found a little bunch of wildflowers in a glass on the kitchen table.

“Did you pick these for me?” she asked Andre, lifting him into his high chair.

“Yep!” the little boy answered.

…………………….

Thursday

In every office there’s that one manager who loves to hold meetings every chance they get. The longer and more unproductive the better, it seemed, and today Michonne got roped into attending. She tapped her pen on her notepad, barely resisting the wholly unprofessional temptation to doodle in the margins as the speaker droned on.

The quiet buzz of her phone was a welcome distraction. She checked it discretely.

There was a new text alert from Rick Grimes. When she opened it there was a video attachment. Michonne checked that her volume was off and tapped play.

Andre’s angelic face filled the screen. He was sitting in a bucket swing at the park down the street from their house, smiling like he was having the time of his life.

When the short clip was over, Michonne played it again, smiling to herself. Her little boy always managed to cheer her up.

“Oh, is that your son?” Michonne’s nosy coworker leaned over, apparently also not paying much attention to the meeting.

“Yeah,” Michonne said.

“He’s precious! Look at those cheeks!” the woman gushed.

The manager shot them an annoyed look but thankfully someone else pointed out the time and the meeting was adjourned.

…………………………

Friday

At lunch time Rick sent Michonne a picture of Andre wearing his bib, munching on some baby carrots. For a caption he wrote ‘TGIF!’

When Michonne got home and Rick passed Andre off to her, she thought back on their first meeting and how hesitant she’d been about having a male nanny. Now she almost couldn’t imagine not having Rick around!

“Thank you so much all your help, Rick,” she told him.

“Well, that is what you’re paying me for,” Rick said, looking amused.

“Yes, but. I guess what I’m saying is, you’re doing a great job,” Michonne said.

“Thanks,” Rick’s eyes held hers for a long second, “Have a good weekend, you two. I’ll see you again on Monday.”

………………………………….

By the end of the second week, Michonne thought maybe she was imagining it, but Andre seemed to be happier than he had been the past few months.

There had been a lot of upheavals in his short life, his father leaving, the move from the city, her scrambling to find childcare. Michonne tried to shelter him from the stress of it all, but sometimes she wondered how everything was affecting him. There had been days that he was petulant and irritable, throwing fits over things that had never bothered him before.

This new nanny was attentive and caring, Michonne thought, and he brought some much needed stability to their lives. Andre was getting back to his naturally cheerful self and Michonne finally felt like she was getting a grip on things. Instead of living in crisis mode, she felt like she could slow down a bit and enjoy life more.

So one week when the beautiful blue eyed nanny invited her and Andre over to his place for a cookout, she didn’t hesitate to accept.

(Full story here)

[itsraiden-blog]

Chapter One Lee Yang

 It's a vibrant morning in Roseport. The sun is high the birds are chirping and the sidewalks are busy. As my apartment window is open, i can smell the fresh scent of baked goods below. My ears fill with the noise of ships arriving at the port and fishermen voices at loud. Its a beautiful day as i begin to yawn out of bed. I start my day off with a fresh brew of coffee that i picked up from Marcos Coffee Company. I must say, its the best in town. With a   variety of beans to choose from you can never go wrong with the Italian roast. I recently moved to Roseport from Los Santos and i have already gotten a pretty quick start. I work as a  journalist at The Daily Globe. With rising crime rates and corrupt politicians in Roseport there will never be a day with out a story to tell.  Having lived in the city only a few weeks now. I have fallen in love with this place. The best place to visit is the Town square, with its shopping malls and busy foot traffic. Anything you'd wish to find would be right down there. As i pore my coffee i cant help but notice the obnoxious alarm going off whilst  the door bell ringing in an agitated rhythm. I swing the door open to see the fresh milk delivered at my feet as expected. If you're from anywhere else in the world such thing would be foreign, but here in Roseport its a common service. It's convenient to get milk when you don't have to leave the house. Besides, Market Goods is a busy and   often hectic grocery store. Good luck attempting to get to the refrigerated isle while soccer moms plague the store with there loud and unruly kids.  I quickly put on my business casuals as i prepare for work on a busy Monday. If you ever experience Monday traffic like ours, you too would be concerned of the rising population. In just a few weeks hundreds have moved to Roseport coming from all parts of the world. An interesting phenomena and one i am eager to discover. I mean, what happened that the population of Roseport increased tremendously? My boss, John, speculates its do to the rising cost of living in some parts of the world, along with Aldorria's immigration law. Who knew promoting foreign policy and immigration would get Aldorria on the map. Roseport the capital is over populated at the moment. So, i  choose to ride my bicycle to work. I would say i am a zero emissions guy, as i don't own a car. I must say Roseport is a city that appeals to cyclist over motor operators. With its expanding bike lanes and strict traffic laws the number of cyclist has increased. Besides, who would want to be stuck in traffic for two hours on a twenty mile commute to work? Not me, that's for damn sure.

  There it is the Daily Globe. The place where ill spend the next eight hours getting yelled at by my boss because of late published columns. I mean seriously they need to lay off me for a bit, but that's what i get looking to work at the number one news outlet in the country. We cover it all, from the corrupted elections of 2016, to the economic crisis of 2017. We are in for a record breaking year if we manage to cover these small gang groups popping up in the western part of the country. Gang wars have always been a hot topic. One, hot enough to drive me up the wall and drive others out of Ash Hill. Currently major players are embarking in major crime moves. Something the west has never seen before. We are talking about extortion, drug trafficking, prostitution, and whatever makes money illegally. Most likely you'll see it on the west side. Politicians have always said when population increase so does the crime rate. Who knows what will happen if this thing continues to Roseport.

I park my bike in front of the building as i am greeted by the security guard whose name i always forget. Bob? Bill? Who the hell knows. "Good morning Lee" he says as if he knew me more then just my name. Seriously i have never stopped to talk to that guy and yet, he always greets me. His over weight belly and messy light brown hair is off putting. Where did we find him? I should probably learn his name one day when i am not running late for work- again. Remember when i said cycling is better then driving? well, it use to, until all these new immigrants showed up in Roseport clogging up the bike lane.   As i scan my badge five minutes late at the employ portal, i notice a figure at the corner of my eye. As i turned to the figure i immediately notice one of my bosses looking at me with the sort of face your grandmother makes when you tell her the cookies weren't good. "Five minutes late? whats your explanation this time?" she utters with a death stare. I figured if you complement her she would ease off the stare. "Good morning Sandra" I pretend to sniff the perfume scent in the air. "I love your perfume today, what is it?". "Dont try to avoid my question" she quickly replies. "Yes, i was late but i need to really get going to work. You wouldn't want me to be late on getting these stories published would you? By the way your hair looks great today. You should give your salons number. Maybe i could get me a high fade... they-do fades right?" slowly avoiding eye contact as i awkwardly slide away. "Always with the compliments Lee. Very well, i hope to see your lousy story on my desk by noon" As she motions to leave she stops to finish with. "Oh, and thank you on the compliments. The salon is called NATEDOOS ask for Nate he does an amazing job." with a serious smile and a cold face she finally takes off into her office.   I quickly depart to the third floor via the stairs. Everyone knows you make sure you sweat a little; before you enter the third floor. If your coworkers see you not sweating when you're running late they tend to have this disappointing look on their faces. Oh and they look down on you as if you're a scum of the earth. I like to also complete some jumping jacks right before the third floor as it makes my sense of urgency more believable.     The Daily Globe is the heart of Roseport. You cant miss the huge spherical globe that sits on top of this massive skyscraper. Massive, but yet it doesn't compare to New York's skyscrapers. Shame, because it sure does look huge when you're on the 20th floor. The offices are clean and it resembles a call center but with out the depressing cubicles. Instead you see rows of desks and everyone just typing away at their computers while working in harmony to produce the top stories of Aldorria.   I manage to reach my desk to find some silly written notes my work friends like to make when i am late. The notes mostly read "loser, loser get to work on time" and "Did you ever find a girlfriend? i hear Betty is single" Betty isn't a real person but a mere inside joke of a very large woman whose name is Betty, yea don't ask. Josh and Merle need to lay off the notes. As i  am clearly the better journalist here. I am often tasked to write about Ash Hills declined economy? Boring! Seriously what a boring topic. I mean its the third year in a row politicians have managed to let Ash Hills economy into the dump. This impressing poor performance the city has put up each quarter makes for an interesting topic, one that i would not want to write. My luck huh.   Unfortunately, i have no say so on what stories i may be tasked to write. That's up to John. Our boss with the very creepy look. His little bald spot on top of his head doesn't help his case. He has managed to creep out every female employ and yet he still works here. What a mystery!   I gather all my reports on Ash Hills economy as i rush into the editors office while beating my friend Merle to the door. "Wow, fast to the door but slow to work? Wonder what you were doing last night" she then gestures to a derogatory remark evolving my male parts with my hand in a rhythmic disgusting but at the same time pleasurable motion. You get the picture. "Seriously, Merle not in front of John, you know he can still fire you!" "indeed i could fire you... reports please!" John shouts as he gets up from his desk with his palms and belly over the desk waiting to be handed our reports. Handing them over i sit down as Merle chooses to stand adjusting her poster as she prepares to get vocal. "John, i just wanted to let you know i think i have found out what really happened to the missing boats in Roseport..." As John looks up from my reports he starts to focus onto Merle. I sit there patiently waiting my turn noticing the awful dusty office John works in. I cant help focus more on his dusty earth globe, dusty bookshelf and as i look closer to his dusty keyboards my eyes happened to notice on the left of his computer a box of half eaten dozen of donuts. Seriously do the janitors hate him too? "Go on Merle what did you find?" Merle musters out her words "Well, you see the boats actually didn't go missing." "Is that right?" John leans forward in interest only to have been blocked by his imploded belly. Talk about glazed donuts. "Yes, reports from sources within the coast guard have noticed ships changing course before sailing to the port." "Have they tracked where they're heading to?" he replies as he slowly grabs a doughnut from the box. "Well, it appears a spokesperson for the coast guard has actually hinted that these boats are heading towards Turtle Beach." Confused John mumbles with a mouth full as he slowly begins to lick his finger with out completely munching down his doughnut. "Turtle beach?" "Yes, Turtle Beach." Merle quickly replies as she begins to get slightly agitated with John's professionalism. With a loud swallow and a blink in his eyes he responds with. "Why would fishery boats head to Turtle Beach?" She replies as if she had just uncovered a huge mystery. "Turtle Poaching! It appears some fishery boats are avoiding the coast guard by not docking in Roseport and instead they head south to Turtle Beach to participate in illegal poaching. Then, once they are done, they head back to Roseport with the turtles hidden inside larger fish.  " "Why don't they inspect the fish?" I mentally face palm my brain as i could see that illogical question coming a mile away. "You see the fish companies in Roseport have the coast guard on there payroll. Hence the coast guard turns a blind eye." she takes a deep breath and sits back awaiting Johns reaction. In a slow suspenseful demeanor John stands up as bits of crumbles fall from his tie. "This is great work Merle! I need you and Lee to work together on finding out who is behind all this poaching and how they managed to get the coast guard on their payroll" he looks at me as with the sort of face that would hint towards a favor.. "I need you to stop being late. You'll help Merle investigate this story. Have this issue published on Sundays paper. Headlined 'Poachers Strike the Turtles, Coast Guard turns Blind" In an awkward pause we stare at John to see his awkward hand gesture . Crickets playing in my mind i looked over at Merle thinking she would frown hard but instead she had a little smile on her that complicated my readings of her. Did she like the headline? or did she get astound by Johns goofy hand gesture? Who knows. "Oh, Lee I'd like for you to begin by grabbing my coffee, you'll find me at my desk. You work for me now!" playfully laughing as we exit the office .   As my deep thoughts fade on what just happened  i enter the employ break room and notice Josh throwing his flirt moves at the new girl Sara. He quickly notices me and darts me way with the kind of smirk only a rolling stone could wear. He whispers"I think Sara has the hots for me my man." he quickly looks to see if Sara exited the room as he catches a shy glimpse of her curvy bottom. "You think everyone has the hots for you Josh, you should probably not poke the new girls and actually get some work done." Josh comes back "Did someone get all hurt cause they got a new boss?" he says with a mockery mopey face. "What? How-Did you find out?" "Well you do know Merle is a loud mouth."He chuckles as if he told me something new. "Yup, we know how she gets. I just don't want to mess this up. I mean what am i saying? I..." i started to think what i was going to say but realized i should keep some things secret. One  thing  im certain about is that Josh and Merle have one thing in common, they love to gossip.  Found that out the hard way at a Christmas party when i made out with an ex-coworker as half of the office was reliving a Christmas miracle in the other room. Long story short don't slap belly's in an office full of snakes. Poor girl never showed up to work again. "Look Lee i know you don't like to work with people but Merle is a good journalist and plus she is hot so knock this out of the park or her if you know what i mean!" Josh flashes me his signature wink as he walks away like a Don in the office. I swear he thinks he is some kind of hotshot around here. He certainly looks the part with his blonde and pretty boy face. Built tall like a model with a lean body and decently muscular torso i often wondered why he even works here when he could easy get a job that fits him. One thing he has is looks with no brains. kinda like a runner with no shoes.

As i place the coffee on Merle's desk she flicks her brunette hair as  she gives me a smile and slowly undresses my soul with her light brown eyes. "Ah, thank you, please sit." She grabs the hot mug with both hands and begins to gather her lips close to the mug cooling the coffee with her soft blows which then she pauses to take a light elegant sip only but burns her tongue slightly.. "Merle, i think we should be able to knock this one out of the park ayh?" with a light pause in thought she smiles and says. "This whole story could be a huge headline Lee so we'll have to work extra after work" Not sure what she is implying i quickly get some words out. "Whatever you need boss." as my voice cracks i recover with a cheesy smile. "Stoooop it."  she drags her words then recovers her pitch from what may had seem flirty.  "I am not your boss. We are partners. We will work together on this. Oh and we will definitely have to meet at my place Friday night to go over what we have found so far. So, get your investigations in before hand" "Your place?" Not knowing how to proceed with such request. "Yes, my place or would you prefer somewhere else?" I thought of my apartment as it got "Typical Bachelor" written all over it. I quickly tried to stutter some words only to get cut off. "We could go somewhere else if you're allergic to my two cats, Whiskers and Bob. Don't worry they wont bite." Completely frozen like a deer in headlights i managed to get a word in "Uhh, yea cats are fine..." I hadn't have a girl over my place since moving here. I didnt really know what to expect. I couldn't help but think how embarrassing it would have been if she seen my apartment. It has  boy written all over it with some iconic decor that only a kid would know about. The thought echoed in my head but quickly rejected. Besides my places isn't much of an attraction. Its only a one bedroom and its by the docks often loud ship horns wake me up in the morning. As i space out in my thoughts she quickly places her mug down. "In the mean time we should probably get back to work." As i get up to walk away she adds "Lee don't forget Friday ill text you my address!" "I wont."

  I walk away as if i was a teenage boy talking to my crush. I didn't really know how to handle the situation. Ive never been invited to a girls house before. As much as i wanted to ignore the natural feeling downstairs i couldn't help but to float back to my desk on a cloud of fantasy. Imagining some things that i am not proud of at this very moment. Her house though? I mean why Her house? Why couldn't we go to a coffee shop or maybe even a park. That's normal right? Two adults getting work done at a park in the evening? All i can hope for is that i don't make this awkward. I never really been good with the ladies. Definitely not like Josh. Perhaps i could ask Josh what to do but his loud mouth would have everybody in the office laughing. I cant let anyone know. As I drift back to my desk  I took a seat allowing my mind wonder into places i don't often get to visit in real life. I don't know why i imagined her and i, but the pure fantasy begun to operate on its own as my mind drifted in pleasure land.