#but I live on the third floor of my apartment and the doorbells don't work

[someone-else-entirely]

Today was an Adventure:

-ordered alcoholic beverage online a couple days ago, culminating in me running out into the wet street without shoes to catch the UPS truck

-impulse bought a heart-shaped mini Bundt cake maker (not just a pan, but a MAKER - you plug it in and pour in the batter and it cooks the cake for you)

-also impulse bought Lindoor truffles whose flavor was listed as "dark strawberry" and I know that that's just dark chocolate with a strawberry filling but "dark strawberry" sounds amazing as a concept

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

I promise the next pages are less mystic than the previous ones. Yet I still have to remain anonymous, you will soon read why. I am typing this in case something happens to me. Not that I am that important, but the Monstrum is known to murder without a noticable pattern. In these tiring times what more enjoyable is there than to write an email and get an answer back?

Carvier did so and she is not tired of typing back. I got some more information but I hesitate to ask more precicely since I am unsure of my further plans. Ahead is the most important answers of her:

Transcript of the first page: - Apparently there is a trip students can take in the dig - Werner is dead, yet she still keeps him in CC - She proposes to work with my "university"

Transcript of the second page:

Werner means a lot to her and they seem to be friends. I should try to not ask her again about him and upset her.

I think she knows Lara Croft. After all she is also an archeologist and they know each other. Is there a way to redeem this?

She mentions an Arab tribe calles Jurhum which are said to have a descendant of humans and angels among them. There's barely information about them online. Is this guy alive today? Wouldn't he be fancily buried somewhere if he was dead?

Carvier mentions that Werner has some publications in his apartment and that he has an assistant, Taisha. I'll think of contacting her so I don't bother Carvier anymore. I want to get his notes out of his apartment to prove that Miss Croft is innocent, yet the room is shut by the police. No way I can get in there in secret. Is there?

Transcript of the third and fourth page:

I decide to do it. I won't rob him or break in, completely. Rather I'll try to deceive someone to open me the door and let me into the hallway. I'll take with me gloves, worn shoes with no profile, a crowbar, a knife, a camera, a fake outfit and a way to access his pc (which is not real since I have no clue how to do that).

My plan is as follows: I will mask myself as a coworker of Werner, I have the name of his assistant and I will briefly show my new Louvre ID that no one knows its look hence I can just make one up. I'll get up to the third floor if the names on the doorbells are correct. After a small chat with the person that opened the door (if necessary) I shall get to his place. I try to get the door open and look for anything on the Lux Veritatis, nephilim, Templars, the Monstrum killings. I take photos and then leave the place.

My hopes are the panic is so high that people won't notice much and the Monstrum will distract them enough. Werner doesn't live in a rich place, there's no wealthy people around and I assume they haven't set up cameras in a palce already chosen by the murderer. Right?

Transcript of the fifth page:

As I checked out Werner's house again I noticed it was abandoned. All residents have been relocated and the house is completely empty. It looks rusty and like it's about to fall apart. I guess I won't even "break in" since it's empty anyway... The garden makes for a good way in from a window, then upstairs. It seems like I can actually make it.

UPDATE: I did it. I wrote the note here in addition the the text after I went to Werner's place. I will add whatever I found in the next pages.

Transcript of the sixth and seventh page:

The sixth page you see is an exert from the Sefer Raziel HaMalakh, a grimoire ( a magic or spell book) from the Middle Ages. It is partly written in Hebrew and in Aramaic. The Angel Raziel is said to have revealed the book to Adam and it contains spells, angelology, zodiacs, names of god, and more. The non-Hebrew and non-Aramaic words are not to be deciphered or decoded and the translator I messaged has never seen it before. But he had an answer as to what it is: a "Celestial Alphabet".

The seventh page shows some examples of angelic alphabets: the "Malachim Alphabet" and the "Passage du flevre Alphabet".

Knowing this, I can say the texts are in a newly made up alphabet, the information is secret and there are no sigils, but rather real letters. I can't read the text, but at least I know what it is now.

I shall post the findings of Werner's apartment next time. I still need to examine both letters and the photos I have found. I wish there was someone whom I could share this with, it's getting out of my hand and way, way bigger than I ever imagined.

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Worship You

ANON REQUEST

Pairing: Yoongi x plus size reader

Warnings: self-body shaming, insecurities mentioned, fluff, body worship, body praise, needy love making, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks).

Rating: 18 and over

 This was your third outfit change in a span of twenty minutes and your boyfriend of a year was due to be here any minute. You huffed at yourself in the mirror, yanking at your tummy before sucking it in. “Ok this is it!” You scold yourself. You tug at your blouse so that it meets your jeans and remind yourself not to lift your arms tonight. The doorbell rings and you yelp a bit, looking over your outfit again. “Please like it.” You whisper, spinning on your heel and making your way to the front door. You pull the door open and cover your mouth in shock at the sight of ten heart shaped balloons and an armful of flowers. “Happy Anniversary Beautiful!” You hear from behind the bouquets.

You stand in shock unable to speak. Your boyfriend soon shifts the items in his arms so he can peak over them. “Everything ok?” He asks strained. “Uh, Yes, oh my god! I'm so sorry, let me help you with this.” You grab a set of flowers from him, and he follows you inside. “This is too much! I don’t deserve all this.” “Why would you say that? You deserve this and so much more!” He smiles wide, exposing his gums. He releases the balloons randomly as he moves through your apartment. “There,” He says, pleased with his work, “Now wherever you go, you’ll see pieces of my love.” He turns to face you with his arms held wide. You give a faint smile, tugging at the hem of your shirt, and walk over to him. “You are the sweetest man I have ever met Min Yoongi.” “What can I say? I have the best reason to be sweet right here in my arms.” he replies, hugging you tightly. You feel your shirt riding up and you pull away quickly, “Uh, let’s head out. You don’t want to be late for dinner, do you?” “Hey,” He stops you, tugging on your arm and pulling you back towards him, “I love you. You look great.” You smile at his sweet comments, wondering why he was always so good to you. You stand on your tip toes and kiss his lips softly. “Thank you. I love you too. You look much better.” He chuckles and wraps his arm around your waist. You feel your face heat when his fingers dance along your exposed skin. “Don't.” You whine, removing his hand from your side. “Sorry, did I hurt you?” “No, it's fine. Come let’s go, I don’t want to miss our reservation.” You try to perk up, leading him towards the door.

You make it to the restaurant right on time and are seated quickly. “Wow, they really went all out with the candles and rose petals huh?” You mention to Yoongi who is just staring at you from across the table. “Do you like it?” He asks. You nod, looking around again, noticing that you are both towards the back, secluded from the other patrons. “I told them it was our one-year anniversary. I wanted it to be special, so I called ahead and had them go all out.” Your eyes pop open at his confession. “Yoongi! I’m speechless. This is so amazing. I feel like I should’ve dressed up now.” “You look beautiful jagi, just the way you are.” “That’s easy for you to say. You look good in everything.” He scoffs and reaches over to grab your hand across the table. “Hey! I’m serious. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. You don’t need to be dressed all fancy or in six-inch heels to look great.” “Let’s order, shall we.” You yank your hand back. Yoongi sighs but nods. You loved Yoongi so much and he always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better, but he had to say all these things right? He was, after all, your boyfriend. Did he truly mean it all or was he just looking to reach home plate? You see you and Yoongi had been together a year now and had never once had sex. Sure, you fooled around, made out here, blow job there, or even that one time he ate you out in the mirror house at a Halloween festival.

It wasn’t that you both didn’t want to have sex, it was that you were too afraid of what he might think of you with your clothes off so you avoided it if you could. Yoongi always called you beautiful or sexy but he’s never seen you fully nude. You always fooled around with your clothes on. In the past whenever you had sex with a boyfriend, they would complain about something. “Too Heavy” One guy told you during reverse cowgirl. Needless to say, you never saw him again. Still, it bothered you, hit a nerve, made you wonder. You were, however, grateful for Yoongi, he had never pushed or forced anything. He never shamed you for wanting to keep your shirt on but there was always that fear in the back of your mind that one day you would hit his breaking point. Would tonight, be it? “Hello, Earth to jagi, do you want to order an appetizer or just skip to the meal?” Yoongi snaps you back to reality, a smile plastered across his glorious face. “Uh, just the meal please.” “Sure, whatever you want my love.” He responds, waving the waiter over. “May I take your order?” “Ladies first, jagi.” “Uh, I’ll have a Caesar Salad, no croutons with shrimp please.” Yoongi eyes you suspiciously but smiles none the less. “And for you sir.” “I’ll have the same please.” The waitress nods, taking the menus. “Wait! What? Why? Order what you normally would get…steak or pork. Why are you getting a salad?” You question. “Why are you?” He counters. You scoff and shrug, looking down briefly at your tummy. “Besides this is better jagi. More room for dessert.” He says with a sly grin.

After 10 minutes of protest, you agree to split a dessert with Yoongi. “It’s our anniversary, we have to go all out.” He whines, sliding the dessert menu to you. You pick the brownie with vanilla ice cream and Yoongi happily enjoys it with you. “This was beautiful thank you.” “You’re welcome jagi. Anything to see you smile.” He leans in and plants a kiss on your mouth. “I have another surprise back at my place.” He whispers over your lips and it sends shivers through you. “Can I play with it?” You whisper back, kissing him again. “Hmm, maybe.” You both giggle into each other’s mouths, enjoying how the world fades away when it’s just the two of you together.

“Close your eyes.” Yoongi declares after unlocking his door. You do as your told, allowing him to take your hand and lead you into his apartment. After a few steps, he tells you to open your eyes. Your jaw falls open at the sight of rose petals strewn across the floor, the coffee table decorated with LED candles. A bottle of champagne chilling over ice, accompanied by chocolate covered strawberries. There are more heart shaped balloons around his living room, and a single red rose on the couch in a white box. “Min Yoongi. I could cry.” “Tears of joy I hope.” He pouts. “I don’t deserve this. I look terrible. I didn’t get you anything. I’m a horrible girlfriend. I mean what kind of girlfriend doesn’t even buy her boyfriend a card?” “Hey, hey,” He shushes, kissing your temple, “You’re the best gift I’ve ever received. Tonight, is all about you. Not me. I just want to make you feel special because you mean so much to me.” He leads you over to the couch to take a seat with him. He hands you the box with the single rose. You look it over. “It’s beautiful.” You tell him. “Like my jagi,” He smiles, “And the best part is, its artificial, so it’ll last forever. Like my love for you.” Your head pops up from the rose to meet Yoongi’s glittering eyes. “You’re not real.” You sniffle. Yoongi leans over and kisses you gently. “Come let’s toast jagi. Champagne?” He points with raised brows. “Sure.” You giggle, shifting in your seat to try and look your slimmest. He pops the bottle, pouring two glasses. “A toast jagi, to us, and to many more anniversaries together.” He taps his glass against yours. You both sip from your glasses and place them back on the coffee table.

Yoongi grabs a chocolate covered strawberry from its container and brings it to your lips. You take a bite, licking your lips of the juices. “Allow me.” He smiles, kissing you gently, sucking on your bottom lip. You find yourself moaning into the kiss, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. He grabs your waist, his fingers grasping at the soft flesh that sticks out above your jeans. He moves his hand upwards, over your tummy, massaging as he makes his way up to your breasts. You moan, pulling in your tummy as best you can. Soon he tugs at your blouse, trying to pull it up. You yank back, pushing him into the couch and straddling him, sure to not apply all your weight onto his lap. You take his mouth with yours again, biting and nipping at his pout, desperately trying to distract him from touching your body. It doesn’t work, his hands are at your waist again, digging his fingers into your exposed skin. You pull away from the kiss again and look at him. “Are you ok? Do you want to stop?” He asks, looking at you with concern. “I…. maybe we can go to the bedroom?” You suggest. He nods, allowing you to tug him by the hand to his room. You push him onto the bed and shut the light, straddling him carefully once more, your mouth back on his. You swirl your tongue on his, palming his growing erection.

“Jagi, I want you so bad. You feel so good.” He whispers against your lips. “I want you too.” You whisper. He moans at your words, gripping your hips hard and pulling you closer to his throbbing hard on. “Mm, no. I, lets, switch positions.” You suggest. “I want you to ride me jagi. I want to be buried deep inside you.” You moan, feeling yourself soak your panties. Yoongi kisses at your neck, running his hand quickly up your shirt and placing his hand on your back fat. “Don’t!” You shout, jumping off of Yoongi and sitting beside him on the bed. You cover your mouth, angry at your reaction. He flicks the light on and looks you over. “What’s wrong jagi? Please just tell me. Is it me? Do you not want me touching you? We can stop. We don’t have to do anything.” “Yes, I mean, no. I don’t mind it if it’s over my shirt. I just don’t want you looking at me ok! I don’t want you to be grossed out. I’m not what you’re used to. I’m not some supermodel. Do you have any idea how long it took me to even get ready for tonight?” You whimper, holding back tears. Yoongi sits quietly, staring off, rubbing his palms against his clothed thighs.

Your mind begins racing, he’s going to leave. The one guy you’re actually crazy about is going to break up with you. You’ve ruined everything! Suddenly, Yoongi looks over at you. “I think you’re beautiful jagi. I don’t want some supermodel. I just want you.” “Why? I’m fat. I have rolls. My thighs… I look terrible.” You trail off, covering your face, allowing tears to fall. He chuckles, standing before you, reaching out for your hands. “You’re not fat. Don’t ever say that about yourself.” He tugs you towards his full-length mirror. “Yoongi, please, I don’t want to look at myself.” You attempt to protest when he stands you before it, his body flush against your backside. He rests his chin on your shoulder. He begins to whisper in your ear softly, “Just indulge me jagi.” You look up into the mirror and catch his gaze. “I love the way you part your hair, how it frames your gorgeous face. The smell, man I love that smell. It’s like sunshine and air all in one.” He breathes you in with shut eyes.

“Your eyes are the most attractive eyes I think one human vessel could ever have. They are so deep yet reflective. When I look into your eyes, I see all the complex beauty the world has to offer reflected onto me and I’m so honored.” He takes a moment to catch your eyes with his, staring at you deeply through the mirror. You feel your body heat. He soon lifts his hands and tucks your hair behind your ear, turning your head slightly. “You have the most amazing face. The way your jaw falls in perfect alignment with the rest of your features.” He plants a soft kiss on your ear. “And your neck,” He runs a finger down your neck, “soft, inviting, the way it becomes so profound with every breath you intake.” He lowers his head and plants a wet kiss on your neck. You swallow hard, a small moan escaping your lips.

He wraps his arms around your waist next, pulling you into his body. You want to protest when you feel his hand slide up your abdomen but the warmth of his skin on yours is too intoxicating. “Your skin,” He almost moans, “so soft. Even the little that you’ve allowed me to feel or kiss has been like heaven. It’s only made me crave more, wondering what being wrapped up naked with you would feel like. The warmth we could create.” The thought sends lustful shivers down your spine. “May I take this off.” He whispers, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You nod, swallowing back your apprehension as he pulls your shirt up over your head. You stand before him in your bra and watch as he removes his shirt also, his pale skin on display for you. He moves forward and presses his chest against your back. “You are so beautiful.” He praises, kissing your left shoulder, then your right one.

You spin suddenly, needing to feel his lips against yours. You dig your hand into his soft black hair, taking him into a deep kiss. The feel of his chest pressed against yours has you moaning into his mouth. You push him towards the bed and attempt to shove him onto it until he turns the table, spinning you and lying you into your back. “I'm not finished,” He pants, kissing your jaw and down your neck. He nips, kisses, and licks at your collar bone before kissing the soft flesh of your breasts. “So soft, you smell so good.” He praises, continuing to trail kisses between the valley of your breast. “Um,” You attempt to protest, lifting your hands to cover your tummy. “Don’t hide from me jagi. Please.” He begs, carefully removing your hands and planting kisses along your abdomen. “Don’t be ashamed of your body. This is what makes you beautiful. I love it and you. Every inch of you.” He explains, pressing his face against your tummy to nip and kiss at your skin. You moan out at the action, surprised at how sexy something so simple could be. He looks up at you, his lips just above the button of your jeans, “May I?” You nod frantically, your body on fire.

He grips the button of your jeans and opens it, standing to remove your shoes and then tugging the article of clothing from your person. He smiles at you, kicking his shoes off and removing his jeans now, standing before you in his boxers. “You have the most beautiful legs. So full, thick, soft. I love when they straddle me, even though I know you hold back.” He smirks, gripping at the full flesh of your thighs. You gasp out loud causing him to bite his lip. “I just want to be covered in all things you.” He kisses the inside of your left thigh. “Smothered in your scent.” He kisses the inside of the right thigh. “I love being nestle right here,” He positions your thighs on his shoulders, like he has done many times before, “Lost in the sweet aromas of you. Comforted by your soft warmth.” He presses his nose into your core now, moaning out in completely euphoria. He kisses your now soaked center through your panties, driving you mad. You make an attempt to look down but look away quickly. “Let’s shut the light.” You pant. Yoongi pops his head up and begins to trail kisses down your inner thigh, to your knee, down your calf, and onto your ankle. “Never jagi. I’m not done telling you how beautiful you are. Now, where was I, Mmm, I’ve dreamed about what it would feel like to have these gorgeous legs wrapped tightly around me. Pulling me closer to you.” He kneads at the muscles in your calves, massaging away the tension. You drop your head on the bed, indulging in how his large hands work with such ease.

“Yoongi, that feels so good.” “I’m glad. I only want to make you feel good jagi.” He says, kissing the tops of your feet. “Such pretty feet, gorgeous toes.” You yank your foot back when you feel his tongue tickle your big toe. “No way!” You giggle, catching his gummy smile when he hugs your bent legs. “I really do think you are the most beautiful woman in the world. It hurts me to see you doubt yourself.” You sigh, looking away, his eye contact too much. “This,” He rubs your thighs and then parts your legs to grip your hips and glide his hand along your abdomen, “All of this is gorgeous. It makes you unique and special. I love all of it and all of you. I am so grateful you chose me, that I get to be in your glory every day. How lucky am I jagi?” He whispers, sliding up your body and settling between your legs. He kisses you gently, swirling his tongue around yours. “You sure? I mean, you have to say all this right?” You whisper over his lips. “I’ve never been surer jagi and I would never lie to you.” He kisses you again, pulling your body close to his. “This is the only place I want to be and with the only person I want to be with.” He moans into your mouth.

You whimper, so taken by all the things he’s said, the love he’s shown you. Why have you ever doubted him? Compared him to the others? He’s never been like them. He sees past the superficial and straight through to your heart. He has always been patient and kind, always uplifting and encouraging. “Thank you for loving me.” You pull away to say. “No, thank you for letting me love you.” “Yoongi.” You mewl, kissing him harder now. You push him onto his back and straddle him, grinding down on him without holding back this time, his sweet moan your reward. He grips your hips with his large, soft hands, digging his fingers into your flesh whilst guiding you along his growing erection. You continue this way, throwing your hands back to unhook and remove your bra. Yoongi sucks in a breath when you break the kiss to toss the material to the ground and grip your full mounds. “How could you ever doubt how beautiful you are?” He lifts his back from the bed and rolls you onto yours, taking one of your perky nipples in his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the hardened bud, your back arching in response. He soon moves on to the other breast, your moans seemingly fueling him to tease you further by grinding his erection into your sopping core whilst he tugs at your nipple.

“Yoongi, please, I need you inside of me. I can’t take it anymore.” He looks up at you from the valley between your breasts, his eyes black orbs. “You sure jagi? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m ok waiting for as long as you need me to.” “I’m sure baby.” You pant. He nods gently. “I mean, I wasn’t prepared for this. I don’t have any condoms jagi. It’s ok. We can wait. I can make you feel good in other ways.” He smirks, lowering his head to your core. “No, please, I want to feel you inside me. I trust you. Just pull out. I’m on the pill.” He rises up to come face to face with you, his straining length pressing against your needy center. “Jagi. I love you so much. I just want everything to be special.” “Anything I do with you is special Yoongi. I love you so much.” You kiss him gently, pushing I’m onto his back again. He doesn’t fight you; he watches with mouth agape while you remove your panties. You tug his underwear down, freeing his weeping member. “Should I stop?” You whisper. Yoongi closes his mouth briefly, swallowing the accumulated moisture. “Only if you want to jagi.” “I don’t.” You respond lustfully, hovering your sex over his. His skin gooses beneath yours and a small moan escapes his mouth when your grip his length. You move his head through your slit slowly, gasping when he grips your hips tightly to keep himself from hitching upwards.

You finally align the head of his penis with your entrance, resting your left hand on his chest as you lower yourself onto him. You both cry out in unison at the feeling of togetherness, gazing into each other’s eyes when you bottom out. “You feel so good wrapped around me jagi. Ah, there’s nothing more perfect in this world then you.” He praises, leading you to begin moving up and down his member. He watches you intently, love and lust mixed in his eyes. You rest your other hand on his chest, picking up your pace. “I love you.” You pant, moving just your hips now, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room. “I love you jagi. You look so beautiful. I love watching you use me.” Yoongi praises, his head dropping back onto the pillow. “Uh, jagi, you feel so good. This… is better than any dream I’ve ever had of you. Ah, fuck!” He stutters, lifting his back off the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and begins to lift you up and down his rigid member. You cry out when he hitches his hips up to meet yours, hastening his pace, his shaft dragging against your swollen bud as his tip hits all your inner nerve endings. “Oh, Yoongi.” You whimper, out of breath and trembling.

Yoongi leans in, his mouth pressed against your ear, his pace never faltering. “You’re such an Angel. I’m so in love with you. I’m so grateful to be able to make love to you. You’re so beautiful, so amazing jagi. I’m so lucky. I just need one more thing from you tonight my love.” You hold him tightly, tears stinging your eyes, your core clenching tighter and tighter around him. The coil deep inside you set ablaze by his words. “Anything. I’ll give…you…anything.” You pant. He licks at the shell of your ear, kissing it softly, “Let go. Cum for me. I need to feel you cum around me.” You almost screech, your coil snapping at his sultry words, you clench down so hard he curses out loud. Before you know it, you’re on your back, Yoongi’s now sloppy pace a sure sign he’s close. “Ah, Ah, jagi. Where can I cum?” “Here.” You touch your tummy breathlessly. His eyes clench tightly and he let’s out a wild groan, pulling out suddenly. You whimper at the empty feeling, gasping soon after, watching him stroke his climax onto your abdomen. He’s out of breath and moaning unabashedly, dropping beside you when he’s done. “That was amazing jagi, you are so amazing. Let me get a towel for you. I’ll be right back.” He offers but you stop him, “Let’s just lie here for a minute.” He nods, lying back down beside you. You stare at one another for a moment. “Thank you for always lifting me up even when I can’t do it for myself.” You whisper to him, brushing his hair from his forehead. He smiles, taking your hand to his lips and kissing it. “You never have to thank me for that jagi. Maybe one day you’ll have to lift me when I’m down. Just know that you are one of the most amazing people I know and I’ll never stop telling you. No matter what happens. We're in this together jagi. I’m your biggest fan. Just let me worship you.” He kisses your forehead now, rising up to go grab a towel, leaving you feeling so loved and cherished.

[angelswithcigarettes]

“To find a way to cope”

Summary: Morgan finds Spencer's notebooks filled with partly disturbing drawings and poems and learns once again how much of what Spencer feels he doesn't know how to express and how much happened in his childhood he never talks about.

AU: [This is an AU in which Morgan and Reid share a house (as friends). The parts can be read independently.]

Warnings: Past Sexual Abuse

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid, Suicidal Thoughts

Word Count: 4626

First Chapter:

Notes: Since this series is the follow up serious to another one of mine "Green" (I will link it in the endnote) there can be some confusion if you haven't read it. But here is a short summary of it so you don't have to read it all and can still 'enjoy' this:

In the story "Green" Spencer gets together with Lola who abuses him following up this abuse he stays with Morgan who helps him recover as much as that is possible. Spencer doesn't want to go back to his apartment so Morgan decides that it is time for a change, they move in together in one of the houses Morgan renovated ones.

They each have their own privacy, their own floors including bathrooms and bedrooms and each of them has their own office but its not a secret to anyone that they also don't have much privacy because at some part after living together for so many years the embarrassment or shame for many things just faded.

However when Morgan picks up a box of books in the basement while looking for his old baseball equipment he feels bad when he looks inside of them.

They are notebooks, written in with black ink and he can tell that it's Spencer handwriting. There is a date on the corner, the note book is hardly a month old. He puts it away and grabs one from further down, revealing another date from eight years ago and he opens up a random page and starts reading.

"And if you look at me

Look at me for another moment

See me

If you really see me

Can you look at me the same again."

It's seems to be an attempt of poetry and Morgan opens another page finding a scetch of a person. Also in blank ink. Their hands scratching at their eyes, looking like they are screaming.

He reads another poem.

"Can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear me screaming for you? You hands burning my skin,you hands burning my innocence.

Can you hear me screaming?

In the latest night, can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear him burning my skin, his hands burning my innocence."

Morgan can feel an unsettling feeling spread through his body, these are too old to be from the time with Lola, judging by the date he must have been in his early twenties.

He looks into another notebook finding a lot of sketches and a few of them look similar to people Morgan had seen before, he figures they are unsubs and then he opens another scatch and it looks like a women, warning a gun holster and having a glass in her hand, her hair shoulder long and judging by the date this is Elle.

Morgan picks up another one, it is dated for approximately a year ago. The drawing shows their house but the windows are barricaded with wood and nails, only a light shining out of Morgan's room and a kitten is sitting in front of their doorstep, skinny and looking up to the doorbell handing in front of the door that is also barricaded.

The next one is a drawing from their kitchen and it shows Morgan, at least he thinks so, sitting at the table with his hand on his head the other around a coffee cup and on the kitchen counter are files stacked and the kitchen table is filled with overflowing cups.

There is a third, showing their bathroom and there is a liquid on the floor,again every drawing is held black ink but he guesses its blood and a handprint on the mirror and in front of the puddle and then there is a hand sticking out from behind the curtain from which the liquid drops down.

The fourth is what makes Morgan want take the notebook with him, it's a man standing in the door and by the tattoos he can make out that it is supposed to be him but he is wearing a mask and he is holding Spencer's stuff animal in his hand while wearing only Jean's and boots no shirt. Morgan can make out that this is supposed to be Spencer's room.

The worst he finds in that notebook is one of a women, sitting on a chair, her head leaned back and her arms sliced open, blood dripping down on the floor and by the necklace, the gun at her hip and the long slightly curly hair Morgan dares to assume that this is supposed to be JJ.

He puts the notebook aside and pulls out one from the time when he started at the BAU and the first drawing is of a little boy with glasses standing in the bullpen that is crowded with files. The second is a room filled with bees at the wall and an empty chair in the middle.

Morgan knew Spencer can draw he didn't know how well he does.

There are a few sketches of Morgan and Gideon and a lot of JJ. And many butterflies and with the ripped out pages in between he guessed that he draw them for her.

He quickly puts everything away when he hears Spencer walking down the stairs but goes back down to grab the one with the poem about the 'burning hands' the one with the sketch from Elle and the one with the drawings from the house and the women on the chair and for weeks he hides them in his office and eventually started profiling a few of them but quickly stopped that, feeling uncomfortable.

"What are you drawing?" He asks stepping into Spencer's office and the man shuts the notebook again.

"I don't draw."

"You don't?"

"No, I haven't in years."

"You haven't?"

"No, I am horrible at that." Morgan steps closer and it fits what he had found downstairs. The little pencil case open, only black pens inside and a pencil with a rubber. "What did you want?"

"Nothing just wanted to check in on you." Looking over he sees another stack of papers, and in a box next to his desk watercolours. "Its getting pretty stuffed in here."

"I like it. And I would like for you to leave now."

"I will." Apologetic Morgan takes his hands up and leaves the room.

There is a high chance that Spencer knows himself that his drawings are concerning and that that is the reason he is so defensive over people knowing he draws.

He keeps his findings a secret for a few more days until he gets to concerned and tries again talking to him about it but the moment he takes the word drawings in his mouth Spencer denies having drawn in the last years and accuses him of having sniffed around his office for things he draw as a teenager.

So he takes the notebooks and in a quiet moment walks up to Hotch's office who is similar concerned by them. For him the worst is one of Spencer himself, someone pressing a hand over his mouth and him into a pillow next to a poem about the lyrical I suffocating.

"There are more that hint at sexual abuse."

"He has a history we know that."

"Some are older than what happened with Lola."

"Did you try talking to him about these?"

"He claims he hasn't drawn in years." Hotch looks further through it finding more and more thinks he finds concerning.

"There are quite a lot of you."

"That's why I am here. I was hoping he maybe would rather talk to you about it. I can't explain why the drawings are portraying me like that." Hotch looks down on the page of a drawing of Morgan laying on the couch, the TV running but he is sleeping. On the table a ashtray with smoke coming from it on the floor next to the couch, multiple books that block his way and lianas hanging from the ceiling one close to curling itself completely around his neck.

"You have a theory?"

"My first guess was that something in the house made him feel captured, or even me but I am not sure."

"I would actually say that it's the opposite. That he feels like he captures you."

"Me?"

"This doesn't look like he is the one captured." He points at another painting showing Morgan standing in the kitchen, one half of his body having spiders all over it his other side being completely normal beside the fingers that in the end turn into bees and more bees flying away from it. "Are you okay?"

"You see this drawings and you ask if I am okay?"

"Besides that these drawing are definitely not something that leave you unaffected there are a few that a showing you in a vulnerable state he probably saw this before drawing it in his own interpretation."

"I am fine, I don't know why he draws me like that."

"Alright I will talk to him about it." Morgan initially wanted to go to JJ with this but she really doesn't need to see the drawings of herself being death by suicide. There is the one on the chair but also one hanging out of a tree with wings on her back.

For Hotch the most disturbing once are the two from a child, being beaten and in the other drawing having wings sitting on top of a clip, stars around them.

Morgan brings him the other notebooks too and in the earlier once its clear that he draws what he sees on cases and around himself. The poems not so much.

But the younger the note books the more it concerns his friends and random children.

Hotch doesn't find many of himself, but there is a notebook around the time Emily died that breaks his heart and when she came back the drawings change to something with more anger and eventually one that shows Spencer and him sitting in his office, Spencer looking at Hotch, Hotch doing the same but behind Hotch stands Emily or JJ he can't tell having a hand on his shoulder and covering his mouth while Spencer has a ghost behind him, covering his eyes.

He thinks long about if he wants to talk to him about the notebooks because Spencer seems to use this to cope and that is a good thing no matter how violent they look but on the other hand it seems like something is really bothering him so after weeks of debating he hands Morgan the box back saying that it feels wrong for him to interfere and Morgan first gets angry but then agrees that it is better if he first talks to him and then can offers Spencer to talk to Hotch if he rather wants that.

So eventually Morgan breaks the ice at a dinner picking up the box and placing it on the table. "You know what this is?"

"A box"

"You know what's in it?" He asks and Spencer nods with worry in his eyes. "I found it in the basement while cleaning it out."

"Did you-" Nervous he bites on the inside of his lip.

"I did"

"They are mine" He tells him, the fear clearly audible in his voice.

"I know, I am just a little bit worried about you, there is some pretty dark stuff in there."

"You weren't supposed to see."

"But I did and I just want to make sure that everything is alright."

"Yes they are just drawings."

"They are not just drawings."

"And poems."

"Not what I mean kid" Morgan grabs the notebook on top and sits down in front of him opening the page with the drawing of their house. "Is this our house?"

"Yes"

"Can you tell me why you draw this?" Spencer shrugs ones, tears in his eyes. "These are yours and I am not judging you or am mad I just think that some of these, because this notebook was finished a few weeks ago, need talking about. And I am just trying to help you."

"I don't know why I draw this."

"What about the cat? Is that Garfield?" Garfield is an old cat they adapted years ago and died.

"Yes"

"You still miss him?"

"Sometimes I wish he comes home again but then nothing is open here anymore."

"Garfield is dead and even if he wasn't dead when we got the call he would be by now." Morgan tells him in a gentle voice. "So this is about Garfield not coming back in,not you feeling captured in here?"

A nod.

"See that's why I think talking about this is good because I completely miss interpreted this."

"Did you see all of them?"

"Yes"

"All of them?"

"Yeah, I looked through them." He nods and then a tears rolls down his face. "Come on we go over to the couch for this, we cuddle up with your stuff lion and we talk about these, you can lean against me no need to look me in the eyes or for me to see your face." Morgan over the years found out that that is what makes him feel the most comfortable while talking. Either on car rides when Morgan can't tear his eyes from the road or while walking somewhere or placed so that Morgan isn't looking into his face.

Spencer ignores the offer to get his stuff animal from upstairs but he takes the thick blanket while Morgan pulls out the cautions from underneath making the couch bigger and then leans against him and Morgan opens the next page.

It's the drawing from Morgan in the kitchen, the files everywhere and the cups on the table. "What's with the Cubs?"

"I don't remember."

"Mr I have an eidetic memory that's very hard to believe."

"Sometimes everything gets dirty in our kitchen."

"And that bothers you?"

"I try cleaning it but it seems like it doesn't get better even when everything is properly stored."

"And the files?"

"It always happens when we have many cases after another and then it isn't fun coming home anymore."

"Because its dirty?"

"Because it's all tight" He tries to explain how the house feels to him. "We can't move in here."

"Is that the same thing you wanted to express with this?" Morgan asks opening the page of him laying on the couch with the lianas from the ceiling.

"Yes and- and that I- that I take your energy away."

"Okay one point after the other, what is it with the house being to tight? We have a lot of space and a lot of garden and everything, what makes it tight?"

"I don't know sometimes it just is." He tells him moving his head back on Morgan's arm shutting his eyes for a moment and then breathing in deeply.

"We don't have to do this all now if its to much for you" He tells him worried about how this affects Reid. "You just explain it the best way you think I will see about the rest."

"You won't get me."

"I do, it's tight in here sometimes, like you can't move."

"Yes"

"And cleaning doesn't help"

"Yes"

"See not that bad"

"It makes me feel bad." He continues and then hits his thigh ones. "Like I need to run."

"Like you need to run?"

"Yes. Like I have to move. Like my legs haven't moved enough."

"Because it's to tight in here?"

"Yes."

"What about you taking my energy away? What do you mean by that?" Spencer turns his head away not looking at the page but then eventually speaks.

"I am really not an easy friend."

"For me you are."

"No I am not."

"You are not taking my energy away."

"You could do a lot more thinks if it wasn't for me." Spencer justifies his statement.

"Like what?" But he just shakes his head still facing away from him and Morgan tries encouraging him to talk to Hotch but Spencer denies the offer so Morgan moves his hand down around his waist and pulls him closer again. "C'mon you did so good with the first drawings and we won't have to talk about this one any more we can just move on to another.”

Rest on Ao3 (I can’t post more words in here I’m sorry):

[mo-mo-and-porkchop]

42. "This isnt going to have a happy ending" (Seven)

@youbloodymadgenius

(Sorry this took so long.)

[Ala Alice in borderland on Netflix. ]

Oscar stared at the ceiling of his latest dwelling - a small, studio apartment no bigger than a hotel room. A fan whirled quietly, pushing a small breeze throughout the space. He let his eyes drift to the singular window and out to the roadways and parking lots the complex surrounded. Thin walls allowed him to hear everything his neighbors went through, day in and day out. Drab colors covered the walls making the space even more depressing.

What a shithole.

However it wasn't the worst place work had sent him over the years. Given his station in life he had been required to live in some of the shadier places on Earth. Being a hired hand for the most powerful players meant you went where they sent you. No questions. If he had known his experience in spec ops would turn him into a glorified errand boy he would never have replied to his recruitment.

They're lucky they pay so well.

He sat up with a sigh and forced himself from the futon. A female living to his right was on the phone with, whom he could only assume was a friend, complaining about her most recent bout of dieting. Her cat ate better than she did according to her.

Oscar shuffled to his small bathroom and splashed cool water across his face. He'd been there a month already and his target had yet to show up. He huffed silently to himself. He tried to warn the powers that be to move on from their obsession. After the doctor's botched experiments, they turned all of their attention to a nobody, twenty something.

A fucking kid.

As he dried his face two male voices drifted through his walls, catching his attention. They stood just down the hall and were easily heard. He listened as they discussed benign details of their day and, judging by their voices, they were 409 and 411.

Buzz. Buzz.

He glanced into his apartment at a small kitchen table that doubled as a nightstand. His phone lit up before buzzing once more indicating a text had come through. He tossed the towel onto the edge of the sink and went for his phone.

He swiped up and unlocked his phone to see a picture of Dahlia smiling brightly on the beach. Followed by the question:

[sms: jealous?]

A soft smile tugged at his lips when he saw it was his sister. And yes, he was jealous. He huffed quietly and sent a picture of his current view.

[sms: not really]

[sms: stop bragging] was her reply.

A hard, loud series of knocks at his door pulled him from his phone with a slight start. He wasn't expecting anyone. No one knew he was there, save his sister. And his 'boss' never frequent his residences. They did all their business virtually. The less connected they were physically the better.

The knocking repeated itself and he went to check his doorbell camera. Oddly no one stood there. The hall was empty. Silence began to creep in from all around. Then all power crashed.

All power.

The lights, the camera, the ac, the hall lights. Everything electronic had gone down. Not even his phone was working.

'What the hell?' he asked no one as he tapped the screen and shook it a little. 

He wasn't sure what he hoped would have happened by doing it. It was like blowing on the game system when the cartridge didn't work - useless, but somehow hopeful. When nothing else worked he carefully opened his door, peeking through the hall.  His unknown knocker was still at large.

Seeing that things were all clear, he went to neighbor's and knocked. Maybe they knew more about what happened. Silence followed. He waited a minute and tried again. Still nothing.

"Hello?" he called through her door.

He knew she was in there. She'd just been bitching to her cat, jealous of his superior meal plan.

"I'm from 408."

Silence.

Odd, but maybe she was cautious of unknown males. Although neighbors they knew neither beyond a simple greeting in passing. Something that happened rarely since he'd arrived.

He left her door and went to his other neighbor's. Repeating the same process, resulting in the same response.

His heart began to race as each and every door on his floor resulted in nothing more than silence. He seemed to be the only person there which was impossible. He rushed down the stairs and to the lobby, finding it eerily empty.

"Hey!" he called throughout the lobby as he searched for someone, anyone. "Hello?!"

Oscar left his complex and headed for the streets - which he found littered with abandoned cars and deserted.

What the fuck?!

"Hey!" he yelled louder, darting from car to car, his search still coming up empty.

At this point it felt as if his heart would break through his chest it was beating so hard. His mind raced. Panic was not something he was used and he handled it very poorly. The only one who was ever able to calm him on the rare occassions it did hit was his sister.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the black screen. It still wasn't working. He glanced around to try and find his bearings and noticed something.

The marquees had gone black. the street lights were out. Even the cars wouldn't start. Everything electronic was down. Like an EMP had hit, rendering it all useless. But that didn't account for the lack of people. Oscar had no idea what could have caused that since he remained. His mind went to the only explanation he could think of.

This was hell.

But he didn't remember dying. He'd been in his apartment minding his own business. The knocking was the last sound he heard. Not a gun shot or explosion. Just loud, hard knocking.

A month had gone by. In that time he'd searched nearly every part of the city and found nothing. No one. Each building was just as empty as the last. He scavenged supplies as needed and continued searching for anything to explain away this very real feeling delusion.

Suddenly a small tv screen lit up nearby - a lone light in the darkness. He squinted to see it clearer as he neared.

'Game arena this way.'

Game arena?  What the hell? 

A large arrow pointed to the right and looked where it pointed. As if on cue, a spotlight shown into the sky, illuminating a building a few blocks away. A glance between his phone, which still wasn't working, and the screen was all he took before heading where directed. This was the only thing different to happen since arriving.

He came to an apartment building slightly smaller than his. It too was dark save for the spotlights and some emergency lights running on a gas powered backup generator.  It was just as abandoned as the rest of the city.

Cautiously he entered the building. He'd been through a lot of shit in his day, but this was eerier than hell. The silence was nearly driving him mad. Nevertheless he made his way through the hall, arrows leading the way. He finally came to the end of the hallway. A small table with cell phones and an elevator were all that greeted him. The elevator was down and the phones were off, just like the rest of the city.

Great. More nothing.

He tried the nearby doors and found them all locked. He left to backtrack out when he finally ran into others. Instinctively he grabbed one up and held him against the wall, holding his hand out to keep the others at bay.

"What the hell is going on? Who are you?" he asked glancing between the three of them.

They remained silent, but by the looks of thing he wasn't going to get any answers from them. He could almost smell their fear. Once Oscar actually took the time to actually see them he realized he'd overreacted. They were young men.  In their mid twenties at best. Kids. He was an ex military turned merc who had done a great job of staying fit. He must have looked like a monster to them. He relaxed his grip and held up both hands in apology, taking a small step backward, keeping them all in his sights. 

"Sorry. You're the first people I've found since...getting here and I thought you might have been responsible for whatever is going on," he explained.

They silently shook their heads once they were able to overcome their surge of fear. "We are just as lost as you," one of them said.

He looked at the three of them, studying their body language - which told they were being truthful.

"Do you know what is going on?" a second one asked when the silence became too much for him.

Oscar simply gave him a look to convey how stupid he thought that question was considering their initial meeting.

"Right. Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"We don't know anything," the first one admitted. "We were goofing off and then everything disappeared. It wasn't until dark that we were showed the way here."

Oscar nodded slightly. Aside from the length of time they were here, it was the same as him. "I've been here a month if my count is correct and haven't found shit. Except you guys," he said glancing between them.

The one with the stupid question took a few steps, peeking around the corner. He saw the elevator and table full of phones. His demeanor seemed a bit more hopeful at the sight. "There are phones down here," he said to his friends before taking off for them.

"They don't work," Oscar called out, but the other two had already rushed to join their friend.

When they picked them up the screens woke up. Their faces were scanned and a woman's voice came through - explaining registration was closed in five minutes and the number of participants, which as of now was the three of them.

"What the fuck?" Oscar said picking up a fourth phone. It scanned his face and replayed the same message. "These weren't working when I found them," he said more to himself.

Before they could discuss the recent turn of events a woman emerged from around the corner. She was dressed in business casual attire and looked vastly out of place. She calmly walked toward them and picked up a phone, repeating the process as the rest. This time however the registration time had gone down by two minutes.

"What does that even mean?" the third guy asked when he heard her message. "Registration?"

"Its a game," the woman said, breaking her silence.

"Game? What do you mean game?"

Without a word she pulled out some kind of ID badge and threw it down the hall. They all watched as a lazer shot out and precisely hit the tiny card.

"Once you cross the barrier you have now choice but to play."

"What game?!" the first guy asked again, frustration and worry in his voice.

"We are all in this game," she began to explain. "Each one is different and if you don't complete their tasks you die."

"Their?" Oscar asked.

She shrugged her shoulders "Whoever is running it."

A second girl showed up and when she saw the groups of them she rushed forward, happy to find other humans. The trio of guys tried to stop her, but it was too late and she'd crossed the threshold. Quietly Oscar handed her a phone. After scanning her face the voice rang out that registration was closed and there were six participants. It continued stating the game's name - Dead or Alive - the difficulty - three of clubs, whatever the hell that meant - and the one and only rule:

Pick the right door and exit within the time limit.

Just then the elevator door opened with a sign on it's back wall simply stating 'Start'.

Oscar sighed and quietly told himself "This isn't going to have a happy ending" before heading inside it with the others.

[accomplice-tendou]

Chapter Nine

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝘃𝗲

At least he gave me my car back.

After a somewhat normal day at work the following afternoon, you walk back to your car. However, instead of parking it in your normal spot, it's parked further in a less populated area since technically your car was stolen. You subconsciously begin to have a small debate with yourself about the man who turned your world sideways over the course of a few days as you continue on your walk.

He doesn't seem like a bad guy. Maybe letting him bribe me with nice things isn't such a bad idea. Wow, I definitely sound horrible saying that.

Once you get home, you unlock the door and set down your keys. Once your eyes glance over to the room your jaw practically drops to the ground. Labeled cardboard boxes litter your floor. It looks as though someone's moving in... or out.

"Hello?" you nervously call out to anyone who may be in your apartment, "T-Tendou?"

"Ah shit... one second!" his voice calls from the other room.

A minute later the tall man enters your line of vision.

"Hey Y/N what's up!" he brightly calls out to you.

"What's going on here?" you ask skeptically as you watch him place down another box that seems to be filled.

"Well first of all I'm pretty sure I told you to call me Satori but I'm just helping you move out!"

"Move out? What the hell are you talking about!"

Tendou makes his way over to your kitchen as he avoids answering your question. Your eyes quickly dart to the gun on the counter in the same spot as usual.

"You see, I'm packing your stuff so you can move in with me!" he beams as he picks up yet another cardboard box.

"Why do I have to do that?" you huff, "Won't it look suspicious if I just up and leave suddenly?"

"Of course it will," he laughs, "very much so."

You groan and make your way over to your couch. Placing your hand on your head you try to dismiss the headache you began to get at the sight of your apartment and thoughts swirling in your brain.

"Ya know Y/N..."

You look up and see Tendou giving you a shit-eating grin from above along with a dramatic pause before he continues his speech.

"You're probably going to be thought of as an accomplice now."

An audible gasp escapes your mouth as Tendou's words ring in your ear. Right away you realize that he's right; you will be thought of as an accessory to the incident at the bank. The detective probably already assumes you erased the video footage and you did lend Tendou your car even though you didn't have much of an option.

"Do I have a choice?" you ask as you look at him in a somewhat pleading expression.

Although you didn't enjoy your life before you met this man, you can't help but wonder if it's a wise decision to go with him.

"Not reaaally," he admits, "my friends aren't too keen about you yet so-"

"You don't have to threaten me," you sigh, "I'll do it. I can't really think of a reason not to."

As you began mentally listing out the pros and cons of going with Tendou, you realized there isn't much downfall so long as you don't get caught. As much as you hate to admit it, seeing as it may be a weakness, you don't feel as though the man standing before you would hurt you.

"There you go!" he beams, "Now you don't have to go back to that shitty ass job!"

"Hey come on that was a low blow," you pout.

"Oh, uh, s-"

"I'm just kiddin' Satori calm down!" you laugh, "That job was the worst."

Tendou lets out a loud sigh before taking a seat beside you.

"Man, Y/N, you really had me going for a second there," he says before taking a dramatic deep breath.

"So your place, huh?"

"Yep," he hums as he slouches down a bit, "So it shouldn't be all bad with a roommate, right?"

As Tendou looks over at you with his grin, you can't help a weird feeling in your stomach. You let out a quick nod before abruptly stopping as you notice that you're closer than you would like to be with someone who's bribing and threatening you, but you can't help but feel as though you're... enjoying it.

Tendou puts a hand on your chin and gently tilts your head up to look at him. You do your best to look away and avoid the heat rising to your cheeks. You long to feel his lips press against your own but find yourself confused if your feelings are wrong.

"Good."

The next morning you begin unpacking your things into Tendou's house. From the moment you arrived, you were nothing but stunned at how nice his place was. On the outside, it seems just like a normal home but within was a completely different story.

When you walk inside you're greeted with tall mint walls, new wooden flooring, and a white false ceiling. Your jaw practically dropped to see the furnishings were well matched and gave the room a comforting feeling even though it was large in size.

"Wow, this is really your place?" you ask as you step down into the sunken living room.

"What do you think? You like it?" he asks with a hint of worry in his tone.

Does he actually care if I like it or not?

"Y-Yeah it's really nice..." you trail off as you look around.

"Come on," Tendou grunts as he indicates to the box full of clothes that he's carrying, "let me show you to your room."

Tendou leads you to the second floor of the house and down the hall into an already furnished room.

I guess that's why we didn't take much of my crappy furniture. This is way nicer!

"Alright there ya go," Tendou breathes as he drops the box he was carrying onto your already made bed, "Well I'll leave you to it. I might come in a couple times for the other boxes but I'll mainly be downstairs. Call me if you need anything alright?"

"Sure," you nod half-heartedly as you look around the big room.

Your new room is very clean looking despite the number of pillows, blankets, furniture, and plants that Tendou had filled it with. You're extremely impressed at the way he was able to pull off something that suited your style even though he's only been to your house a few times.

Oh god, what if he's been to my house more times than I know of?! He wouldn't do that, would he?

Once you've done most of your unpacking you decide to go downstairs to check on your new roommate. However, as you descend the stairs you hear the doorbell ring and Tendou running to answer it.

"U-Uh what are you guys doing here?" Tendou answers the door in a hushed voice.

"What the fuck are you talking about we're here because you never told us what you're going to do with-"

"Shhh, shut up!"

"What's wrong?" a different voice asks, "Shirabu was just asking what you planned on doing with the girl."

Your hand immediately shoots up to your mouth, trying to prevent any noises from escaping as you internally break down.

Oh my god, they were going to do something horrible to me...

"Man you talk so damn loud," you hear Tendou groan, "Y/N is staying with me now so you gotta keep your voices down!"

"Staying with you?" a third voice interrupts, "What's wrong with you?"

You hear a slap followed by a low groan from Tendou. You then hear a bit of mumbling that you can't quite make out.

"Y/N, darling, I know you're listening can you come out here please? It's not nice to eavesdrop," Tendou's voice says gently.

For a moment you hesitate whether you should go out or not. Nevertheless, you end up slowly walking down the rest of the steps and around the corner where you find six tall men staring at you.

One of them, who you already know as Tendou, wears an extremely proud grin on his face as he extends his arm out towards you.

Another with what seems to be dark green hair has an intimidating expression but looks at you as if you've done something despicable to him.

Three others stare at you with unreadable expressions as if they're still processing the fact that you're standing before them.

The last, wearing a bowl cut, has his mouth hanging wide open as he follows your every move.

You walk over to Tendou reluctantly until your standing at his side. He then begins to introduce you to the men before you.

"The pokerface looking guy is Miracle Boy!" Tendou begins as he points to the green-haired male.

However, the 'Miracle Boy' tells you that his real name is Ushijima.

"And this is SemiSemi," Tendou points to the ash blonde beside Ushijima who wasn't giving any real expression until now.

"It's just Semi," he barks back while narrowing his eyes at Tendou.

"Yeah, yeah, anyway next we've got Benkei," he says as he moves on to the next male sporting an undercut.

You're taken back for a moment as the male addressed to you as 'Benkei' begins smiling. He offers out his hand for you to shake and says that his real name is Reon.

"Nice to meet you," you smile back.

"Anwaaay," Tendou interrupts, "Now we've got-"

"Shut up and don't give me any ridiculous nickname," intervenes the male with uneven hair, "I'm Shirabu."

Lastly, Tendou introduces you to "the little genius with the cool hair," who bows before telling you that his real name is Goshiki.

After making your own introduction, a slight pause fills the air until Ushijima bluntly interrupts it.

"So did you talk to the cop."

The whole group freezes up as they look towards Ushijima. You feel your body become stiff as his icy glare pierces your soul.

"U-Uh w-well," you stutter out as you begin to notice the rest of the men awaiting your answer.

"No," you finally speak boldly, "Of course not!"

If this is going to be my life now, I can't just let these guys push me around.

"Besides," you scoff as you look straight back at Ushijima, "I up and left my home. I'm part of this now too!"

Ushijima only nods in response. However, you notice a few of the others' faces become more relaxed.

Shirabu lets you know that he's glad you feel that way while giving you a firm nod and Reon lets you know that he's happy to have you on board.

Tendou gives you a side hug and pulls you in closer to him. You let out a small gasp but do your best to keep the heat rising in your face to a minimum as the other men observe the interaction.

"Hell yeah! I've got the best accomplice!"

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Across Seven Seas

Chapter 12

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Main Masterlist

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

Ankur - Concierge of the Hotel Maple-Fawn in Mussoorie

Warning: Curse words, beginning of rape, alcohol consumption, angst

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

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Chapter 12

Meera rang the doorbell of the Evans suite. Situated on the top floor of the hotel, the passage way to the suite was lined with ornate arches, marble statues and impeccable sophisticated lighting. The entire decor screamed opulence in capital letters. It also made her feel uncomfortably out of place.

Scott opened the door and let her in. He welcomed her to take a seat in the living room of the suite, along with Lisa, Chris, Shanna and Carly. "Did all of you see the news?" Meera asked as she took a seat, wincing a little. "Yeah we did. We just wanted to ask a few questions. Thank you for coming up here even though you are exhausted. It means a lot," said Scott. 

Meera brushed him off, "It's okay. I will try my best to put your mind at ease." She looked around at their silent faces. They looked a little nervous and Meera soon realised why. She was sitting in her usual position, legs wide apart, back slightly bent, forearms resting on her knees with her palms meeting in the middle. While she felt comfortable in this position, her Mother had always reminded her that women sat with their legs closed and not like mobsters planning to threaten people.

"Umm... Yeah so… I mean…" Scott struggled, clearly hesitant.

Meera chuckled under her breath, "Why don't I start with the obvious questions. You can ask me later on if I miss out on anything." Scott nodded.

"So first of all, why did I not take any credit for the fight? Simple. I wanted to protect my family, especially my brother. He works with a cruise ship in the US and," she sighed, "stuff like this will make it harder for him to renew his visa."

Meera looked at Chris, "You gave your honest statement to the police officer. It was I who translated it and signed the false statement. So… So please be assured, you will not get into any legal trouble." She removed her phone from her bomber jacket, "I have a voice recording of your original statement. I can give it to you right now if you want. So that just in case, in the future, if this matter ever comes to light, you will have proof to back you up."

The 5 looked considerably relieved now. Scott gave her his email ID where she could send the recording. Once she did, she deleted the sent email and his email ID from her contact list in front of them.

"Now for the next question, how and when did I manage to plan all this? I spoke with Inspector Rima when she came to arrest those 3 gentlemen. I explained to her that since you were US citizens, you were planning to file a complaint with your embassy and would see to it that this matter received international coverage. She understood that her police force would be insulted and she would definitely get suspended. So," Meera sighed again, only this time pain visibly flashed across her face, "she agreed to take the credit and include you guys in the report as just tourists."

"From whatever little I know, there were 26 members in the gang and all of them have been caught. So you guys are all safe. Plus, the hotel is…," she groaned a little with pain, "is providing us with increased security. Nobody can enter our respective floors without avoiding the hotel guards. So yes, you can stay here for the remainder of your trip," she ended.

She looked around at them with a small smile, "Any questions?"

"I do," said Shanna slowly, "Why did you not use your knife to fight those guys? I mean they had knives too right? You were lucky only your sweater was torn."

Meera nodded, "I was incredibly lucky today. The fight could have gone sideways very fast. I didn't use the knife because…" she paused again, running fingers on her forehead, "Aah... because it would have further complicated the crime scene. See you can easily explain punches and kicks as self-defence to the police, but when a knife or any other weapon gets involved, it comes close to the murder-territory. I figured if… if I could distract them with my laughter and insults, I could take them on one-by-one." 

She looked at Chris again. He was still wearing her sweater and cap, "That reminds me, can I please have my sweater and skull cap back?"

Chris became tongue-tied. He could feel everyone's attention on him now. Quick! Say something smart! He kept looking at Meera. He knew her body must be paining, but he saw a greater pain in her eyes. Her pink lips were slightly quivering, as if she could cry in an instant. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep. He knew she needed rest, yet here she was, reassuring his family. He wanted to hold her, hug her tight and tell her everything would be okay. But would she let him? He should have protected her today, and instead, he was a coward. Would she ever forgive him for that?

"Umm Mr Evans?" Tell her why can't you return her belongings. SPEAK YOU FUCKING MEATBALL!! His breaths started coming in rapid successions as his eyes grew wider. You are a fucking 41-year-old man, TALK!!! But the more he thought about talking, the more he shut himself. 

"Oh God baby no it's okay," said Lisa, lightly rubbing his hands while Shanna and Carly started fanning him with the newspapers. "Hey do you want to sing the Little Mermaid song?" Scott suggested, kneeling in front of his brother. 

Meera got up, headed to the refrigerator and brought the ice cube tray in front of Chris. "Pop one in your mouth," she suggested in a commanding tone. Chris looked at her, a little confused but still panicking.

"What are you talking abo…" Before Scott could finish his sentence, she said, "Trust me. Pop one ice cube into your brother's mouth."

Raising his eyebrows and shaking his head in disbelief, Scott still did as she instructed. 

The confusion on Chris' face grew, then the cold hit him. "AFHASGHAHAGHHFA," he said with his mouth open, his panic attack now forgotten. He looked at Meera, dancing a little on his feet with the cold ice cube in his mouth. She just nodded, "Yes you can go and spit it out now."

She placed the ice tray back in the refrigerator. 

When Chris came back, she asked him, "Feeling better?" He nodded, managing to say "Thanks" quietly.

"Umm why… and how?" a stunned Carly managed to ask her.

She addressed them, "There are 3 reasons why putting an ice cube in your mouth works while having a panic attack. One," she raised a finger, and immediately winced in pain, "...the idea acts as a distraction. Two, the cold shocks your system and confuses it. And three, I figured... you might not be drinking enough water, which would have caused your mouth to produce more… ummm…," Meera shook her head as if thinking, "more saliva, which would calm you down."

She stood while they took a seat. "Mr Evans," she spoke gently, "I am sorry I caused you to have a panic attack. When I asked for my stuff, I didn't mean immediately right now. You can return it tomorrow," she closed her eyes and gripped the chair as she felt a little dizzy, "I didn't mean for you to shed your clothes in front of me if that's what you thought."

"Oh no no," Chris finally found his voice, "I didn't... I didn't think that. Please take a seat, you are clearly injured. Have you seen a doctor yet?" 

Meera smiled again, "No I haven't. I don't need to. I will be fine. I will take your leave now." 

As she was leaving, the family thanked her once again. Lisa asked her, "Are you sure you want your sweater back? It's been torn quite horribly." 

"Yes," Meera looked even more exhausted now, if that were possible. "I… I come from a family of… of…" she shook her head and again placed a few fingers on her forehead. "Ummm you know those people who… who do repair work… but of clothes… and they sew new clothes as well? What is the word? What are they called? I am sorry I am having a hard time translating things into English now."

"No don't be sorry. Did you mean a tailor?" 

"Yes! Yes a tailor. I come from a family of women tailors. Yes tailors. Thank you. I will stitch it back together," Meera bid goodbye to them, thinking about her bathtub and soft bed longingly.

…

Back in Meera's room, her phone chimed again. Vikranth: 20 missed calls flashed across the screen.

…

Meera collapsed on her bed. She closed her eyes, the pain in her arms and legs increasing with each second. She groaned as her mobile buzzed. Can't I have a minute of peace? Slowly reaching out for the phone, she saw it was Rohan. 

"Are you okay?" he asked on the call.

"Yes. Will order room service and go to sleep."

"What's your room number? Ma is freaking out here," Rohan sounded concerned, "Look she is worried. Don't do this to her."

"If I give her my room number then she will come down here. She will not give me an iota of space or freedom. Tell her I am in the hotel and I am safe. Explain to her all the security measures the hotel is taking. Even after that, if it doesn't help her paranoia then I cannot do anything about it. No, Rohan, YOU please understand," she interrupted her brother, "I am in pain right now. My hands and legs hurt like crazy and I cannot take any medicine. Right now, I just need my space and time to heal. I am in the hotel so she has nothing to worry about. If she still chooses to worry then I cannot help it. Good night," Meera disconnected the call.

…

2am

Meera was back on the road. 6 big, strong men headed towards her as she ran. She knew she couldn't fight all 6 at once. She tried to run fast but couldn't. Her foot got stuck in the uneven road and she fell face-first. She felt multiple hands on her, ripping her clothes apart. Rough hands turned her around, and she saw her rapists as they started devouring her body in front of her family.

She woke up trembling with shock. Her mouth was open in a silent scream as her body was covered with sweat. She felt breathless. It took her a solid minute to realise she was safe in her room. It was just a nightmare, it was just a nightmare, she tried to calm herself down. Switching on the lights, she headed towards the refrigerator, and popped an ice cube in her mouth. She was on her 3rd ice cube when she finally stopped trembling. 

Reaching for her phone, she decided to watch anything to divert her mind. That's when she noticed the multiple missed calls and messages. She clicked on the notifications and saw her Mother's messages first.

I gave you my life and this is how you repay me?

I have done everything for you! Cared for you, cleaned, cooked, drove you around, was with you every step of the way and you left me all alone? No mother deserves this.

You should be ashamed of what you have done. 

No parent should have a daughter like you. 

Look at how your brother is supporting us in these times of crisis. And you did nothing. You didn't even ask Vikranth for help because of your ego.

You don't deserve to have anybody in your life.

I am extremely disappointed in you.

Wow, Meera thought as she held her head in her hands. She tried to cry, but maybe her body was still in shock, because no tears came to her eyes. 

Nodding her head, she hugged herself and kept repeating, Okay, okay we will get through this. We are okay. We just need to freak out and cry right now. Okay, okay. Freak out and cry. We need to leave this room now. Okay.

…

Chris couldn't sleep. It was all just too much for him to process. The light snores of his brother filled the room. They had all decided to sleep in the suite after the day's events. He couldn't even think straight, let alone sleep. Deciding he needed a drink, he quietly crept out of his bed, taking the room key with him.

He headed towards the hotel's 24x7 bar, hoping to find it deserted. As soon as he entered, he saw the bar was empty, except for one chair in the corner. He couldn't see the person except for a corner of their shawl hanging from the side of the large armchair. The person was playing soft music on their phone. Chris approached the bartender, noticing the shocked and… almost repulsive look on his face as the bartender kept looking at the person in the corner. 3 bottles of different soft drinks were open in front of him but he only focused on the person, his mouth slightly open.

"Ahem," Chris slightly coughed, drawing the attention of the bartender towards him. As Chris asked for a whisky on the rocks, he swore he heard the bartender murmur "Thank God." 

He turned to look at the figure in the corner. While he still couldn't see them, he saw their reflection in the floor-to-ceiling glass window. He saw Meera.

He glanced at his drink on the counter debating whether to approach her or not. He couldn't afford to have another panic attack in front of her. He had to be strong. He took two large gulps of the strong whisky, immediately regretting his action. As he coughed and sputtered, he asked for a refill. 

He felt his throat and chest burn, somewhat fuelling his courage. Taking his drink, he approached her. 

As Chris neared Meera, he heard the melodious song more clearly. Even though it was in Hindi, he understood the sad tune. He saw her tear-stained cheeks and stopped. There wasn't another chair besides her where he could sit and comfort her.

Maybe she needs to feel the pain. I should just leave her alone. She might not like me interrupting her… Chris thought, but he couldn't help himself. Taking another step towards her, he gingerly asked, "Meera?"

She turned her head to look at him. Squinting her eyes, she was still unable to see the person. Putting on her glasses, she spoke through tears, "Mr Evans?" her red eyes registering slight surprise. 

"Do you want to talk about it? What can I do to help you?" 

Meera wiped her nose with a tissue, "Please leave me alone Mr Evans. I just want to be alone," she begged. 

Chris nodded, but still stood in his spot. He looked around and decided to bring another comfortable armchair near Meera's.

He dragged it and placed it right besides the sidetable where her phone and glasses were kept. 

Meera looked at him in disbelief, "Mr Evans I just want to be left alone. So please! Leave!" she said, her voice breaking.

He looked at her, feeling his own emotions overwhelming, "I am not asking you to talk to me. Just think of me as another guest in this bar. I will not interfere in any way. I promise you I will stay quiet. But if you think I will leave you alone, after everything that you have done for us, for me, after what you have gone through, then you are wrong Meera. I will not leave you."

"Why do you not understand," Meera broke down further, "I need to cry, I need to feel this. This is going to get ugly. You will feel uncomfortable! Please just leave."

Chris considered her for a moment, then nodded and left. He soon returned with a stack of paper napkins and placed them on the table besides her phone and glasses. "This should get you through the next hour," he said. 

She looked at him, helpless, then sunk her head in her hands, crying further. Chris settled back in his chair, his body angled towards her. He wished she would let him comfort her, but somewhere, he also understood the importance of going through this alone. God only knows how many nights he had cried himself to sleep, refusing help from his own family, all because he wanted to stay alone.

Slowly, her sobs lessened. She used the new tissue and wiped her face, discarding it in the nearby bin. As she reached for the phone, Chris placed his hand on her mobile before her. "Don't change the song." "But you don't understand the lyrics," she said, her voice still broken. "No, but I like it. Let it play on loop," Chris said kindly. She nodded and took a sip of her drink. It looked a lot like neat whisky. Chris wondered, Why was the bartender repulsed? Was it because she was crying? That asshole.

After a few more sips, she said in a quiet voice, "Our Night." 

"Hmm?" 

"Our Night. The name of the song is Our Night. It is about how our night is a friend of the moon, but after a long time, she has come alone. She is darkness." Meera took another deep breath, "In the song, the singer wants to switch off all the lights and talk to the darkness. She understands that the darkness is hurtful. It is crazy even, but it is still hers. She just wants to be alone with the darkness."

Meera looked ahead and started crying again. Chris just looked at her, his own eyes brimming with tears now. He knew something had happened after she had left their suite. She didn't look like the type of person who broke down easily. He would give anything to find out who or what had upset her. 

He looked at her reflection in the window, his own tears trickling down his cheeks. Finally, he allowed his emotions to take over. 

That night, the stars in the moonless sky smiled down at them, as two people, from two different walks of life, cried together over what had happened, completely unaware of what the future had in store for them.

(This is the song if you want to listen ⬇️)

[mashafootball]

I have an idea for the new imagine. Julian dates with the girl and she's telling him she's a pregnant. I don't know why I like reading about Julian as a father so much. I think he'll be a great father.

Three - Julian Brandt Imagine 

“No, no, no.”, you murmured pushing your hair back, “Shit.”, you continued sitting back onto the tiled floor of your bathroom, holding the third pregnancy test in your hand. After peeing on two already that showed similar results – positive – you decided that you should take a third one, hoping until the last minute that it would turn out negative. But it was positive, again.You didn’t know what you were supposed to do now, start crying, panicking, trying to remain calm? All together? The first thought that wandered through your mind was, that you would never be able to tell your boyfriend Julian about that.

The both of you started dating almost a year ago and in regard of the situation you were in right now – a year seemed like nothing to you. Even though the both of you always took the relationship between you were serious, it wasn’t that serious. Not serious enough to become freaking parents. Far from it actually. Of course, you wouldn’t have started dating him in the first place if you didn’t believe in the two of you having a future. But being pregnant a year after starting to go out, didn’t really seem like anything you had wanted. So, you cried, and cried, tried calling your best friend but she didn’t pick up. You thought about calling Julian, to tell him about the ‘news’, but quickly deciding that you simply just shouldn’t do that. It was hard to imagine what his possible reaction would look like. He was way too mature to completely freak out, but a certain feeling in your stomach told you, that he – understandably – wouldn’t like the idea of him becoming a dad before he even celebrated his 25thbirthday.

“Hi.”, you called out as soon as you hit the ‘answer’ button of your phone. “Sorry for not picking up, I took a nap.”, your best friend laughed, almost making you smile. “Can you come over? I kinda have a, a- situation here?”, you said, not really knowing how else to explain your current stae. “A situation?”, Y/BF/N asked, and you could exactly imagine how her eyebrows furrowed in that moment. “Can you come over?”, you sighed. “Be there in 20.”, she said, ending the call immediately after that. You sighed again, fingers brushing through your hair, redoing the top knot you had been wearing the past hours.

After you best friend finally arrived in your apartment you showed her the three pregnancy tests instead of even telling her ‘hello’. “What the- “, she muttered, taking the tests from you, “You’re sure that means you are pregnant?”, she wanted to know inspecting the white sticks. “I read the package slip, pretty sure two lines translates into ‘Congrats you are pregnant’”, you told her, taking the tests from her again. “Have you already told Prince Charming?”

“Are you out of your mind?”, you asked her in disbelief, shaking your head and strutting off into the kitchen so you could throw the tests away, “I don’t plan on telling him.”

“Are you out of your mind?”, Y/BF/N repeated your question, furrowing her eyebrows, “Of course you need to tell him.”, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, shooting you an angry look. “I don’t even know if I’m going to keep it.”, you bit your lip, trying to refrain yourself from crying as you sat down on one of your barstools. “That doesn’t matter, whatever you do, he should know about it.”, your best friend shook her head, apparently shocked at your behavior. “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right!”, she said, throwing you another mad glance. You knew she was right, of course. But that wasn’t really what you wanted to hear when you called her over.

“I can’t, he would be so mad.”, you sniffled, getting a tissue. “What are you talking about? Prince Charming is obsessed with you, if you told him you lit his house on fire he would still be whipped.” Y/BF/N joked around making you smile softly. You knew Julian was probably the best boyfriend a girl could find, but still you thought telling him you were pregnant would totally freak him out. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”, besides the fact that you didn’t know how or even should tell Julian, you didn’t know what to think about you being pregnant in general. Yes, you were close to finishing your bachelor at university, but the thought of becoming a mother so soon never crossed you mind before. You wanted to travel, gain some work experience, make some money and just enjoy life as a free human being – and now it seemed there was a tiny life growing inside of you, tearing all your plans apart. You have always known that you would love to be a mum one day, you could even imagine having a bunch of kids with the right man and the right living situation. You had the right man, you were sure of that, but Julian’s future career was still unknown and the both of you didn’t even know what would happen after the summer break. And now you were pregnant.

“Call him.”, you best friend urged you as she got you another tissue, “You know that’s the right thing to do!”, she was right, of course, as always. “I can’t!”, you told her what felt like the 50thtime, “I don’t know what to even tell him, I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”, a sob left your mouth which made your best friend wrap her arms around your shaking figure, holding you tightly against her. “Of course, you are not ready, but still, I think telling Julian would be the best option now, you know he would support any decision you choose to make.”, she rubbed your back in a comforting matter, “Call him.”, she continued, holding your phone out to you.

You let out a shaky breath as you searched through your contacts for his name. “Do it.”, you nodded, pressing the call button. When the phone begun ringing you were close to throwing the phone on the wall, but before you could even end the call, you already heard your boyfriend’s voice. “Hi babe.”, he said in a cheerful tone, his voice already making you feel a bit calmer. “Hey, are you free?”, you asked nervously biting down on your fingernails. “Did you cry?”

“Are you free?”, you repeated your question, not really wanting to answer his. “Yes, can you answer my question. Did you- “

“Can you come over? I don’t want to talk about this on the phone with you.”, you knew how nervous Julian would be because of that statement, but in that moment, you didn’t know what else to say. “I’m already leaving the flat and I will be there in about ten minutes.”, he sighed, clearly not understanding what was going on right now. Instead of saying anything else you just hung up, looking worriedly at you best friend. “He will be here in ten.”, you told her, redoing your bun for the 100thtime. “I will go then, call me afterwards, please. And tell him! You know that’s the best solution and I’m sure he won’t be mad or whatsoever. That boy is whipped, and you know it!”

“Thanks for coming over.”, you said, hugging her once again.

It only took about five more minutes after your best friend left your apartment until the doorbell rang once again. If it was up to you, you would have locked the door right now, not even thinking about letting him in or telling him. “Hi.”, you said quietly as you opened the door, exposing your nervous boyfriend. “Is everything alright?”, he asked immediately, letting himself in, “Is something wrong? Are you sick?”, the questions begun pouring down onto you, making you feel more and more confused. “I-Can we sit down?”

“Are you trying to break up with me?”, his voice was becoming quieter at the end of the sentence and the way he brushed his fingers through his hair indicated that he was feeling extremely nervous. “No! I’m not.”, you reassured him, shrugging your shoulders, “But you might break up with me.”, you whispered the last part of the sentence, but the way your boyfriend’s eyebrows rose you knew he had heard exactly what you just said. “What happened? Did something happen when you went out with your girls last weekend?”

“I don’t know how and why it happened, okay? And I don’t know what to do now and I just wish we or at least I wouldn’t be in that situation right now.”, you tried explaining, tears welling up in your eyes. “My period didn’t come.”, you continued, staring at his face, looking for any kind of reaction. But he remained calm, nodding his head to show you he was still listening. “So, I took a pregnancy test, I actually took three and..,” you sighed, “all of them are positive.”

Hesitantly you looked up to Julian’s face, growing more worried of his reaction, because he still remained very calm. “You are telling me right now that you’re pregnant?”, he asked after a while, making you nod as a response. Now it was his turn to let out a sigh, his blonde hair already all over the place due to running his fingers constantly through them. “We have only been together for a year.”

“Please don’t tell me things I already know myself, I-I just wanted to tell you, I still don’t know how to feel about this or what I’m going to do. “, you felt the anger growing inside of you. Needless to say, you knew Julian wouldn’t be one hundred percent happy with those news, but it takes two to tango and he wasn’t the one who would have to carry a baby inside of his body for nine months until he had to push it out.

“I don’t know how I feel right now. “, he muttered, making you scoff, “How do you feel? Nauseous? Is your back hurting? Are you hungry?”, the way he started pacing around your living room, asking if you needed something made you realize how mature he really was. He wasn’t happy, of course, but his reaction showed that. no matter what, he would support you. “Are you mad?”, you wanted to know, teary eyes begging him to tell you ‘no’. “I’m not mad, I’m just, I don’t know – shocked?”, he tried explaining his feelings.

“What are we going to do know. I don’t think I would have the heart to get an abortion, but I’m still so young and I don’t even know how to be a mum and..so much can go wrong.”, you started crying at the end of your little rant, which mad Julian pulling you into his side. “This is- This is your decision to make, but I want you to know that I will support you no matter what you decide to do. But also, I have enough faith in our relationship that we would be quite-alright parents. I love kids, you know that. I didn’t really plan on having my own anytime soon, but if you decide to keep the baby, I will try to be the best dad I could possibly be.”

The imagination of having a tiny human roam around your place that – in any kind of way – resembled Julian, made your heart swoon a bit and thinking about him with kids added a flutter. “I guess you haven’t been to the doctors yet? Do you want me to make an appointment for you?”, his worried look put a slight smile on your face. “I haven’t called yet, but we could do that tomorrow? I don’t think this baby will go anywhere anytime soon.”, he nodded, pulling you once more into his arms. “I love you.”, he whispered pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

And for the first time since taking those three tests, you felt some kind of excitement rising in you. There were a lot of doubts, and you couldn’t imagine how your life would look like nine months forwards, but with Julian by your side you were sure that you were going to be alright.

{tags: @julianbrandtrelated @holybrandt }