#but the job itself was like a perfect routine and most of my coworkers were great and i do miss them

[ghostcrows]

I miss the library :/

[quojae]

-where taking photos of idols turns into more that you ever would have guessed-

f!reader, sunoo x reader, fan x idol, fluff, meet cute, kissing

a/n: hello loves 𖹭 i hope you enjoy this fic i tried my best to make it cute and fluffy but it definitely gets raw and intimate towards the end, happy reading o(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)o

wc: 11.3k

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you went to school for photography, photography had always been one of the loves of your life, you would see a scene and just have the urge to take a photo. although looking back, you almost regret getting your degree in it, people always say not to mix your passion and your work. you should have listened, photography is one of those professions where finding stable work feels like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. the industry is oversaturated, and the competition is fierce. jobs hard to score, and the pay is often inconsistent, making it hard to rely on it as a full-time career.

at the time, you were stuck working part-time at a mcdonald's in a rundown part of town. the job paid just enough to cover rent and bills, but the hours were long, the work was grueling, and the atmosphere was depressing. you had a camera, of course, but it felt more like a distant dream you once held as a naive college student than something real. that is, until one evening, when one of your coworkers - someone you didn’t really know that well - approached you with an unexpected proposition.

they had an idea - a suggestion so simple yet so completely outside the box that, at first, it felt almost too good to be true. you’d never considered anything like it before, it wasn’t a big corporate gig, or some trendy magazine cover shoot, or even a commissioned project for a local business. it wasn’t even a photoshoot in the typical sense, but that was exactly the point. it was something raw, something spontaneous, and - most importantly - a reason to use your camera again, reignite your childhood passion.

your coworker, the one you barely knew and could hardly remember the name of, was a fan of a particular idol. the idol wasn’t incredibly popular, they rarely made headlines but was a recognizable, familiar face, you had been interested in idol’s at one point but eventually had to abandon the hobby in favor of paying your bills. this idol was attending a private, high-profile event - an exclusive gathering with limited access - where fans rarely got the chance to meet them in person, let alone snap a photo. 

somehow, your coworker had managed to get tickets to this event, which in itself was a pretty rare feat, they had an idea: "why don’t you come with me as my plus one?" they asked casually, almost as if they were offering you a ticket to a normal night out. but then came the twist. "i’ll pay you for the photos you take while we’re there. you know, of the idol. if you’re up for it."

the offer caught you off guard. at first, you weren’t sure if you heard them correctly, pay you? to take photos? of an idol? you had spent years hustling to scrape by, working part-time jobs just to keep the lights on. you’d never even thought about something like this - photographing an idol for money on the spot. there was always official photos, and some fans took photos from their phones, but going into these events with a nice, high end camera taking candid photos of idols, the idea wasn't necessarily ground breaking, people have done it before, but it made your heart beat a bit faster.

the more you thought about it, though, the more it seemed to make sense. here was a chance to finally break out of the routine you’d been stuck in. you could do something different, something that didn’t involve working under fluorescent lights flipping burgers at mcdonald's. it wasn’t a perfect opportunity, but it was an opportunity. something real, something that could get you one step closer to doing what you loved for a living. 

sure, there was a risk. not getting good shots or you freezing up under the pressure. you weren’t sure, but then again, there wasn't anything to lose. it was a chance to take your photography out of the mundane and into the world of exclusive events, star power, and actual exposure - something you’d always dreamed about but never quite reached. 

you agreed, of course. you had to. the idea, while risky and untraditional, was too intriguing to pass up. it wasn’t the glamorous photoshoot you’d always imagined, but maybe this could be your shot. so, you packed your camera and tagged along, unsure of what to expect but knowing that this could be the break you needed. 

when you arrived at the event, the energy was electric—idols sitting at their tables ready to sign posters and chat with fans, photographers buzzing around, and security everywhere. you were just another face in the crowd, but with your camera in hand, you felt a strange sense of possibility. the idol you were there to photograph was charismatic, surrounded by an entourage, but the moment you snapped the first shot, it felt like the world had opened up in a way you hadn’t expected. 

sure enough, the photos you took that night were more than just decent, they were actually pretty great. the light was perfect, the atmosphere electric, and the idol looked natural in front of the camera, by the time the night ended, you had a batch of photos that would go on to be worth more than you had imagined. it was in that moment that you realized how little you had known about the potential of your work. you had been so focused on following the traditional paths, waiting for commissions, applying for jobs that never seemed to come through, that you’d never considered going outside the box.

your coworker was absolutely thrilled with the photos you took. they couldn’t believe how good they turned out, and the way the idol had looked so natural and approachable in each shot. the pictures weren’t just great, they were special. your coworker practically couldn’t stop talking about them. the excitement in their voice was contagious, and you could tell they were more than just happy with what you'd done; they were impressed. they handed over the agreed payment, which was far more than you expected for something that felt like a spur-of-the-moment gig. you’d never made that much from photography in one night, it felt like you were finally reaching your dreams, it felt like you were finally being acknowledged for your passion.

the real surprise came a few hours later, when your coworker posted the photos on their social media account. They tagged the idol, shared a few behind-the-scenes captions, and - just like that - the photos took off. almost immediately, the reactions started pouring in. fans of the idol who had been eagerly following the event began commenting on the post, captivated by the authenticity and energy you had managed to capture. the photos weren’t just snapshots - they were a window into a moment, and it felt like people were getting a glimpse behind the idols polished public persona.

at first, the comments were more along the lines of casual appreciation like, ‘my bby looks so cutee’ or ‘the lighting on these OMG.’ But as the hours went by, something bigger started to happen. fans were flooding the post, asking for more. a few commented on how they’d never seen the idol look so relaxed or how these photos felt so much more real than the usual, heavily edited promotional shots they were used to seeing. then came the requests: ‘i LiTERALLY NEED MORE RN’ or ‘can you post more pics like these… i love the style of these pics’ others tagged their friends, begging them to look how great their bias looks. then, more offers to purchase came through.

One day at work, you coworker was talking to themself “i mean, these are really good,” they said, scrolling through the growing number of comments. “i bet people would pay for these. like, seriously.” 

they were right. what had started as a casual favor to a coworker had quickly turned into something much bigger. the more your coworker engaged with the comments and shared the photos, the more requests started to come in - both from fans and even other photographers who wanted to know how you’d managed to capture such a raw, intimate vibe with the idol.

your coworker, now buzzing with new ideas, suggested something that would change the way you thought about your photography moving forward: “what if you could do this more often? go to events, take these candid shots, and sell them to fans? it’s like, exclusive content. i know so many people who would eat it up.” it was a wild idea, but as they continued to scroll through the endless stream of enthusiastic comments, you couldn’t deny it - there was something there. something more than just a one-time gig, and secretly you looked forward to going to another event to take photos. seeing the idols was breathtaking. at the time you had been so caught up in your camera you forgot where you were, who you were actually seeing. you could feel the happiness growing in your chest as you thought about that day.

that moment, when your photos started to go viral, you realized just how much potential there was in capturing these raw, behind-the-scenes glimpses of idol life, it wasnt that you wanted to stalk them home or anything, but being able to capture their raw emotions at events, the real them, excited you beyond belief. it wasn’t about posing for the camera, it wasn’t about perfection - it was about getting a fleeting, authentic moment and making it available to the people who longed for it. you had even longed for it yourself, and sharing it with others was such a great feeling.

the more you thought about it, the clearer it became, why not take this momentum and build something on your own? you didn’t need a fancy studio or a corporate client to make a living as a photographer. the fans had spoken loud and clear; they wanted real, behind-the-scenes moments, glimpses of their favorite idols captured in an authentic way. So, you decided to seize that demand, and to evolve your approach.

the first step was creating an online platform - a website, a social media page where you could post and sell your photos directly. it was a relatively simple concept, but it gave you control over your work. no middlemen, no agencies, no waiting around for a call back. just you, your camera, and the people who appreciated what you were capturing. the platform would allow fans to request specific photos they wanted, and you could price them fairly based on the level of access and the quality of the shot. 

you didn’t have to reinvent the wheel, there were plenty of online photography stores, but what made yours different was the personal, exclusive nature of the photos. the idea was to capture the moments that no one else was - candid shots, spontaneous interactions, and moments that felt intimate or unguarded. tt wasn’t about just selling any photo; it was about selling the photo, the one that told a story or showed a side of the idols their fans had never seen before.

the next step was gaining access to more events. you’d have to be creative, find ways into concerts, premieres, fan meet, maybe even award shows, or private parties where idols were likely to show up. this meant networking, finding connections, and sometimes even pulling a few favors, but you learned quickly that where there’s a will, there’s a way. whether it was through your coworkers, friends of friends, or even just by paying attention to social media and learning about events before they happened, you became skilled at getting your foot in the door.

once you were in, it was all about capturing those moments. you’d snap a few candid shots, focusing on moments where the idol was relaxed, in a natural environment. you’d also make sure to get a couple of highly polished, high-quality images to use as teasers. it was all about creating anticipation. you’d post a few shots on social media, teasing the full set of photos, and maybe even share a quick, behind-the-scenes video or an outtake to drum up interest. the goal was to make the fans feel like they were getting an inside look into the world of their favorite idol, something they couldn’t get anywhere else.

the best part? the fans responded just as they had before, eager, excited, and hungry for more. the teaser posts on social media would ignite the excitement, with fans commenting, sharing, and tagging others. requests would pour in, ‘he looks so hot here, i want moree’ or ‘i need the entire set or i might just break down’ the beauty of this model was that it wasn’t about a few one-off sales—it was about building a relationship with a community. as you gained more followers and more fans, it became a cycle. you would post teasers, people would request more, and you could offer them full, high-quality images for a fair price.

as time passed, your online platform began to grow. word of mouth spread, and more fans began reaching out. you found yourself getting access to bigger events, seeing familiar names pop up in your inbox, and even having idols or their teams inquire about using some of your shots for their own promotional purposes. each new photo was a stepping stone, each set you posted was not just a transaction, but an opportunity to connect with your audience and further build your brand.

being an idol fan yourself, this entire experience felt like a dream come true. you had spent so many years admiring these idols from afar, watching them shine in the spotlight, and now you were not only in the same rooms as them but capturing intimate moments of their lives through your lens. after being broke and not having any time to keep up with them, to being so close to them and actively in their world was incredible. the fact that you were interacting with the people you once looked up to - and even more incredibly, that they were appreciating your work - was surreal. it wasn’t just about taking photos anymore; it was about sharing the same energy, the same excitement, and being able to offer something special to other fans who shared that same passion. you were no longer just a passive admirer, you were now creating something that allowed others to connect with the idols you loved so much.

as your platform grew in visibility, so did your reputation. word spread quickly, and what started as a small side hustle became something much bigger. you became a recognized name in the idol photography world, known for your unique, authentic approach to capturing moments that no one else was able to. 

one of the benefits of your approach to this whole new life was the anonymity it afforded you. no one knew your face, and that made all the difference. you could attend high-profile events, interact with the idols, and enjoy the atmosphere without the pressure of being recognized or approached. you were able to experience these moments as both a fan and a professional, without the hassle of the typical fan interaction. there was no need for the autograph hunts or trying to get the perfect selfie; instead, you had the freedom to enjoy the event, capture meaningful moments, and leave without the distraction of unwanted attention. it was the ideal solution - living the dream of being close to the stars, but still having the privacy and space to appreciate it on your own terms. it felt like the perfect balance between work and passion, what you had always dreamed of.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊��

it was supposed to be a normal event, just a fan meet, nothing too fancy, nothing too extravagant. you’d been to these kinds of things before, but this time you had put a little more effort into your outfit. you reached into the back of your closet and pulled out a blouse that felt just right, simple but elegant. you paired it with a cute black pleated mini skirt that gave off just the right vibe, mature, yet playful and cool. you accessorized it with a delicate necklace and some minimalistic earrings, thinking you looked polished without being overdone. you felt good about it, maybe even a little proud. this was your chance to blend in with the crowd but still stand out, to look like you knew what you were doing, like you belonged here.

but, of course, it was just your luck that, within the first five minutes of arriving, disaster struck. you hadn’t even made it past the entrance when you bumped into someone - just a girl in a hurry, not really paying attention. in the blink of an eye, her coffee went flying, splashing all over your pristine white blouse. your stomach dropped. of course, the one thing you had worked so hard to get right - your outfit - was ruined. the girl immediately started apologizing, her face flushed with embarrassment, but you waved it off, trying to brush it off as no big deal. "it’s fine, really," you assured her, even though your mind was racing. you just needed to get to a bathroom, quickly, before the stain set in and ruined your entire day.

you made your way toward the restrooms, hoping to fix things up. but, as luck would have it, the first two bathrooms you found were packed with girls, all standing in front of the mirrors, touching up their makeup, chatting, or taking selfies. there was no space for you to even get close to a sink, let alone grab some paper towels and start trying to clean up the mess. the minutes ticked by, frustration mounting as you realized that every second you spent standing around, the stain was likely becoming more permanent. finally, when you thought things couldn’t get worse, you spotted an empty bathroom at the end of the hallway - an oasis in your streak of bad luck. no one was around, the door was open, and you rushed toward it with relief, thinking you might still salvage your blouse. 

in your rush to get inside and fix things, you completely missed the sign posted outside the door. a simple, overlooked word, mens. you didn’t even register it before you burst into the bathroom. you grabbed a handful of paper towels, dampened them with water, and began dabbing at the stain with the urgency of someone trying to undo a mistake. it was already too late - the coffee had soaked in, and now you could only hope to minimize the damage. You could feel your heart pounding, trying to keep calm as you worked, praying that no one would walk in and catch you in the middle of your panic. 

a toilet flushed behind you, its sound startlingly loud in the otherwise quiet bathroom. you were so absorbed in your task, desperately rubbing at the coffee stain with a damp paper towel, that you didn’t even register the sound at first. your focus was on nothing but trying to salvage your blouse, one dab at a time. the stain seemed to mock your efforts, refusing to lift. you were lost in the rhythm of it - dabbing, dabbing, dabbing - when suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke your concentration. a man’s shoes tapped lightly against the tile floor, and before you could react, he was standing next to you, casually washing his hands at the sink.

it wasn’t until he looked up at the mirror that you noticed him. his eyes locked onto your reflection, and a squeak - more of a startled gasp - escaped his mouth. the noise was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and without thinking, you whipped your head around to see what had caused the reaction. the instant you turned, your eyes locked with his, and your stomach dropped, and you realized, you’re in the wrong bathroom. your pulse spiked as your mind raced, the embarrassing realization dawning on you at the worst possible moment.

for a brief, breathless second, there was complete silence between the two of you. your eyes widened, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a shriek of your own - a high-pitched gasp of shock and embarrassment that echoed off the walls. the man froze, hands still hovering over the sink, clearly just as surprised as you were. the realization that you had just walked into a men’s bathroom, had been standing right next to him, not even noticing until now, it hit you all at once. your face drained of color, and a flush of mortification spread across your skin, from your neck to the tips of your ears. you wanted to sink through the floor, to disappear entirely, but all you could do was stand there, paralyzed in the awkwardness of the moment. 

the man, equally stunned, stared at you for a long, excruciating beat, before his face turned a shade of red that could rival yours. every fiber of your being screamed to just run out of the bathroom, but you were frozen in place, desperately trying to act like you weren’t a complete disaster. you slowly took a step back, hoping to salvage what was left of your dignity - and maybe just run away before you could cause any more damage.

"i-i’m sorry," you stammer out, your voice faltering as your face burns with embarrassment. "i was in such a hurry i didn’t realize..."

"it’s okay," he replies, still blushing as he glances down at your blouse, his eyes briefly lingering on the stain. "you, uh... look like you’re dealing with quite the mess there."

"yeah... today is just a disaster," you admit with a sigh, your frustration evident in your tone.

he gives you a sympathetic look, then hesitates for a second, as though considering the best way to help. "it probably won’t come out with just water at this point," he observes, his voice trailing off as if he’s thinking through the best solution. without warning, he unzips his hoodie and pulls it off, handing it to you with a slight, sheepish smile. "here, use this. it should cover up the stain," he says, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents as he smiles at you.

you blink in surprise for a moment, caught off guard by his kindness. "thanks," you reply, your voice soft, and you quickly slip the hoodie on, zipping it up. it’s a little big on you, but it feels warm and comforting, and you can’t help but return his smile, feeling a small spark of connection in the midst of your awkward situation.

"hey," he says, his voice hesitating for a moment, like he’s unsure of how to proceed. "i know this is kind of random, but… could i get your number? or, like, your instagram or something?" he looks sheepish, clearly embarrassed about asking, and you can’t help but find his shyness endearing.

you smile, feeling the awkwardness melt a little. "sure," you say, your heart beating just a little faster. he passes you his phone, opening a new contact, and you quickly type in your name and number. your fingers move quickly, but it feels like time slows down as you finish and hand the phone back to him.

"so, your name’s y/n?" he says, his eyes bright as he glances at the screen. "it’s pretty." he smiles again, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

"thanks," you reply, feeling a little giddy despite yourself. "well, anyway, it was fun meeting you." you let out a small laugh, trying to diffuse some of the lingering awkwardness between you two. "i’d better get going so i don’t miss the start," you add, raising your camera to gesture to the event outside. "i’ve got photos i need to take, and fans i have to feed."

he chuckles, nodding in agreement. "yeah, fans have been pretty starving for photos lately."

you hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to leave or say something else. you stand there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, but decide to settle on something that feels right in the moment. slowly, you back toward the door, giving him an awkward wave and a smile. "text me," you say, the words leaving your mouth before you can overthink it.

he grins, his eyes still crinkling with amusement as you turn to leave. "i will."

as soon as the door closes behind you, you collapse against the nearest wall, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest. the rush of adrenaline, combined with the sheer mortification of walking into the wrong bathroom, has your pulse racing, but now there's something else, too. the encounter - the way he smiled at you, how effortlessly kind he was, the way your conversation flowed once the awkwardness wore off—it’s all a whirlwind in your mind. and then, there’s the fact that you’d just met the cutest guy you’ve seen in forever, and he’d asked for your number. your face feels like it's on fire, but there’s a grin spreading across your face anyway.

you squint up at the ceiling and slowly squat down into a little ball, clutching the wall for support as your heart continues to beat like a drum. the hoodie he’d given you smells faintly like him - fresh, with a hint of something sweet and comforting - and you close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to savor the feeling. the moment feels so surreal, so unreal, but you can’t help but feel like it’s the start of something unexpected.

for a moment, you allow yourself to daydream, imagining the possibilities. your heart is still racing, and it feels like it might actually burst from the excitement. you can hardly believe it - what are the odds? a mistake, a coffee stain, and suddenly you're having this perfect, bizarre, heart-thumping interaction with someone who, in any other situation, you might have never crossed paths with. if this keeps up, you might literally die from a heart attack - your heart can’t seem to slow down, and you can’t stop grinning like an idiot.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sunoo collapses against the sink, heart pounding in his chest, face flushed from the unexpected encounter. at first, when he saw her - y/n - he had just assumed she was some overzealous fan trying to snap pictures of him in the bathroom, which, crazy as it sounded, had happened before. it was a wild situation to even think about, but it wasn’t totally unheard of. the thought that she might be after some candid shot of him in a vulnerable moment made his skin crawl. but then he had noticed something that completely threw him off: she wasn’t even looking at him. instead, she was fixated on something else—the stain on her shirt. there was no glimmer of recognition in her eyes, no sign that she had any clue who he was. the realization hit him in an instant—she wasn’t here for him at all.

the more he watched her, the more he saw her quietly trying to clean up the mess, the more he found himself charmed by her. when she realized she’d walked into the wrong bathroom, it was so obvious how mortified she was. her face turned the brightest shade of red, and she stammered out an apology, looking like she might just melt into the floor. it was almost adorable. instead of being embarrassed for himself, he couldn’t help but find her genuine discomfort endearing. and on top of that, the way she casually interacted with him - it was like she had no idea who he was. no fandom craziness, no over-the-top fan-girling. just... a normal conversation between two strangers. it was refreshing in a way he hadn’t expected.

on a sudden impulse, he’d asked for her number. it felt like the most natural thing in the world. how could he not? a stunning, confident girl who was totally his type had just wandered into his life by accident. dating someone while being an idol was looked down upon, but as long as he hid it well it would be fine, it wasn’t even like he was the first in the group to get a girlfriend. heeseung had had a girlfriend before, and the members had all been through their fair share of relationships. still, the thought of a girl not knowing who he was felt almost unreal. he hoped she wouldn’t find out and suddenly treat him like a celebrity, though. it would definitely complicate things.he hoped when she learned that he was part of enhypen, the group she was supposed to be taking photos for, things wouldn't get weird. he hoped she wouldn’t suddenly act awkward or distant. he just wanted to be seen as... well, just him, the real sunoo, and despite his usual confidence about his appearance, he found himself hoping she would find him attractive, something he had never worried about before. 

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. things had been going so well, but now the uncertainty was creeping in. would she text him back? would she even remember him the way he remembered her? maybe he was overthinking it. he was always so fixated on how he looked, how others saw him. but with her, it felt different. like it wasn't just about appearance, but about a genuine connection. the last thing he wanted was for that to get ruined by the whole idol thing. the thought of her walking away, thinking he was just another fan-chasing idol, made his stomach churn. but all he could do now was wait and hope.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

on your way to the main event, you spot a merch table tucked off to the side. surprisingly, the line is practically nonexistent—something that’s unheard of at events like this. on impulse, you decide to hop in the short line, intrigued by the merchandise on display. as you glance over the items, your eyes land on a pretty album titled simply ‘romance untold’. it looks cute, with soft, pastel-colored artwork and a sweet, romantic vibe. even though you have no idea what the idols look like yet, you feel a tug of curiosity. there’s something about the way the album is presented that draws you in. you’re sure you’ll fall in love with the group once you see them today, and it’ll be the perfect thing to flip through when you get home, a little memento of the day.

after making the quick purchase, you make your way into the main event space. you find a spot near the edge of the room, a nice angle where you can get some great shots of the idols. the excitement in the air is palpable, and the sea of eager fans around you buzzes with anticipation. you try to ignore the faint sense of discomfort as the crowd surges forward, pushing their way closer to the front. it’s always like this at big events - everyone wanting to be as close as possible, desperate for that connection with the stars they adore. you can’t help but feel a little bad for the boys, though. constantly surrounded by this intensity, always being viewed as more of a commodity than as people. of course, you know there are fans who genuinely care about their personalities, who want to see the candid moments behind the performance. but it’s hard to ignore the way others only see them for their fame. it must be exhausting, being unable to have a real, personal connection when you’re constantly on display.

the event officially kicks off when the boys walk on stage, and the crowd erupts in deafening screams, fans shrieking in excitement. you raise your camera instinctively, ready to catch the perfect shot. but as the boys make their way across the stage, your eyes widen in disbelief. standing right there, just a few feet in front of you, is the cute boy you met in the bathroom earlier. it’s him. the same boy, the one who had helped you with your coffee stain and awkwardly asked for your number. he’s up on stage now, dressed in a sleek stage outfit, his smile shining as the crowd goes wild for him. you freeze, your heart thumping as you realize the person you’d spoken to in such an unexpected, ordinary setting was a part of this incredibly popular group, standing in front of thousands of adoring fans. 

your fingers hover over the camera, caught between snapping a picture of him on stage and trying to process the surreal realization. he's an idol. you can't help but feel a mix of emotions, shock, excitement, and maybe even a little disbelief. everything from the moment you met him in the bathroom suddenly feels like it was all leading to this. and now, as you watch him interact with the crowd, you can’t help but wonder if he remembers you - or if your interaction was just one fleeting moment, lost in the sea of faces he meets every day. either way, you can't deny it - seeing him up there, doing what he loves, surrounded by the energy of his fans, makes him all the more captivating.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You get home to your small studio apartment that night with a jumble of feelings in your stomach, you really aren't sure how to feel about this whole situation. you can’t help but smile, remembering how he’d been so cute, but also completely sweet, offering you his hoodie as you stammered through an apology. for those few minutes, he was just a friendly, kind stranger who made you feel like a bit of a mess.

seeing him later on stage was like looking at an entirely different person. the easygoing, endearing guy you’d met in the bathroom had somehow transformed into a star everyone had come to see. the cheers, the eyes on him… it was like watching two different versions of the same person, both mesmerizing but worlds apart.

you wander to the tiny kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water, glancing at your camera where all those shots are stored - photos of the day, of him, some of his group mates too, but while at the event your camera couldn't help drifting to take more shots of him. you’ve always had an eye for capturing people in the in-between, those glimpses when they forget about the camera and just are, having those photos of him felt intimate and you almost didn't want to share them. 

you settle into an armchair by the window, watching the glow of the city outside. tomorrow, the photos will be waiting, and maybe when you look, you’ll find the boy from the bathroom shining through the idol on stage. for now, you close your eyes, feeling his kindness settle like a secret between you both.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

a notification on your phone startles you awake, and you realize you’d fallen asleep in your armchair while trying to detangle the events of the day. the screen casts a faint glow in the dim room, and you blink a few times, getting your bearings. ten pm. not too late, but late enough that you’d be dragging tomorrow. you pick up your phone and open the notification—a text from an unknown number. your heart skips, then flutters just a bit.

unknown: hey, it's late but i wanted to text you. i hope i didn’t freak you out too much when you saw me on stage today, and i’m sorry i didn’t say anything… it was just so nice meeting you without all the screaming, you know?

a smile spreads across your face as you read it. the way he texted was just like how he talked - a bit of a ramble, slightly scattered, but somehow so sweet. he was trying to explain himself, worried he might’ve left you confused, even a little hurt. but underneath the words was that same earnest charm you’d seen in his eyes back in the bathroom, that natural warmth he’d shown before you’d known who he really was.

you type back, fingers moving faster than your sleepy brain can keep up.

you: well, it was definitely a shock, but once i got over it, i think i actually managed to get some good photos haha

a pause, and then you bite your lip, feeling that tug of nervous excitement. he’d reached out - he hadn’t had to, but he did. part of you wants to say something clever, something that hints at how surreal the whole day has felt, but instead, you decide to let the moment be simple.

his next reply comes almost instantly.

unknown: can i see them sometime? the photos, i mean. it’d be fun to see your side of the day :)

another rush of warmth fills your chest. he wants to see your work. you quickly save his number, tapping in a name that feels right, even if it’s a little embarrassing: my cutie. maybe it’s cheesy, maybe even cringe, but it fits him somehow - the endearing guy behind the idol.

before you can think twice, you hit send.

you: absolutely! i’ll go easy on you and choose only the coolest shots… mostly.

my cutie: so merciful 😌 

you laugh, covering your mouth as if he could hear you from miles away. the way he teased you, with that same lightheartedness, made it easy to forget who he was. at this moment, he wasn’t an idol, a star, or even the guy in your photos. he was just someone who’d crossed your path in the most unexpected way.

you lean back, watching the messages pop up one by one, each more endearing than the last. it’s not long before the clock creeps past midnight, and you’re still talking—about everything and nothing. he tells you about the foods he misses from home, you tell him about the weirdest photoshoots you’ve done. eventually, his last text appears on the screen, the letters a bit more spaced out as though he’s getting sleepy too.

my cutie: hey, don’t think too much about today, alright? i liked meeting you… just you. i hope you can think of me like that, not all this other stuff. sleep well, my photographer :)

you stare at the screen, reading the words over and over, your eyes catching on the last two words, my photographer. Maybe you were reading into it, but your heart raced and a blush creeped up your face

you: sweet dreams..

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you woke up the next morning with a dull headache, the kind that reminded you you’d stayed up way too late. the soft morning light filtering through your curtains did little to ease the fog in your mind as you sat up and rubbed your temples. you really shouldn’t have stayed up so late. the night had been a blur of messages and thoughts, and now, in the quiet of the morning, it all felt almost surreal. your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the previous night, replaying the texts and wondering if it was all real. 

you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and unlocked it, scrolling through your messages. sure enough, there it was - your conversation with him, still fresh on the screen. your heart skipped a beat as your eyes scanned his words, and a flutter of giddiness spread through your chest. it was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time, something light and warm that made you smile to yourself like you were holding onto a secret. 

you stretched and groaned softly, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep, but the thought of him made it hard to focus on anything else. after a few more minutes of half-hearted attempts to wake up, you started getting ready for the event you had scheduled today. normally, you'd feel excited to be at another idol meet, camera in hand, ready to catch those perfect moments. but today, something was different. you were a lot less excited about meeting the idols after meeting him. sunoo, with his sweet messages and even sweeter personality, had somehow made the whole idol experience feel less… important. how could you focus on anyone else when he was already occupying so much of your thoughts?

still, you pulled yourself together, slipping into your outfit and grabbing your gear. you left the house and made your way to the venue, your usual excitement returning as you walked through the crowds of fans, eager to capture the perfect moments for fans. you focused on your work as best you could, snapping photos with precision, but a part of your mind was always wandering back to the messages with him. your fingers hovered over your camera, your heart racing every time you thought of the next time you’d get to talk to him again. 

the day passed in a blur, each hour slipping by faster than the last. by the time you got home, you could barely keep your eyes open, but there was something more pressing than rest now, you needed to go through the photos. you decided to post a few teaser shots on your instagram, and checking your website to see if there were any new purchases. it was something you did every day, a small ritual, but today it felt like the least important thing on your mind. 

after a quick check of your sales, you set your phone down and settled onto the couch for a while. your excitement for the evening overtaking the exhaustion from the day, you picked up your phone again, your fingers itching to text him, to pick up where you left off. you couldn’t help but feel hopeful about the possibility of talking to him for hours, the way he made you laugh and made you feel seen - even if it was all still so new.

you jumped as the phone in your hand vibrated, the sudden buzz breaking the silence of the room. you glanced down, a smile tugging at your lips when you saw the name on the screen.

my cutie: hey, you free?

your heart fluttered. it was funny, you’d been just about to send him a message yourself, and now here he was, texting you first. you couldn't help but feel a little giddy at the thought.

you: yeah, what's up?

there was a short pause before his reply came through. you could almost imagine him typing, fingers hesitating over the keys, like he was still unsure.

my cutie: well, nothing really, just wanted to talk to you again…

your heart skipped a beat at his words. it was so simple, but the way he said it made you feel… special. he wanted to talk to you again. you smiled to yourself, feeling that warmth bubble up inside. 

you: that's fine with me haha, so how was your day?

there was a brief pause before he replied, and when his message came through, it felt so… gentle. his words were easy, like you were two old friends catching up after a long day.

my cutie: pretty good, actually. spent most of the day rehearsing, but it wasn’t too bad. honestly, it was nice to have a quiet day after all the craziness, and i kept thinking how nice it would be to talk to you again. so here i am. 😊

your heart skipped a beat. the way he said it was so sweet, and it made you feel like you were part of his day, something he looked forward to. you couldn’t help but smile as you typed your reply.

you: haha, glad! my day was pretty normal - took a bunch of photos, posted some stuff online… just the usual grind. but talking to you now is definitely the highlight of my day. 

you paused, then added another message

you: so, what did you get up to today besides being a super idol lol

a beat passed, and you could almost hear his laugh through the phone. when his reply came, it was exactly the kind of sweet, teasing tone you’d hoped for.

my cutie: oh, you know, just being a super idol... rehearsing, eating my weight in snacks, pretending to be a professional 😅 but honestly, i was kinda looking forward to this all day. 

you laughed, 

you: i bet the snacks were more important than rehearsal, at least they would be for me haha

my cutie: hey, snacks are an essential part of the idol lifestyle! gotta keep the energy up, right :)

you laughed out loud, feeling completely at ease now, like you’d known him far longer than you actually had. the conversation flowed easily between the two of you, natural and comfortable, and you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm of it. everything felt so normal despite everything that made this situation anything but.

you: i’m sure the snacks were well worth it. so, do you often just, like, have an evening off where you can do nothing?

my cutie: ha, you have no idea how rare that is. but, yeah, i get the occasional evening off. Although i usually just lay on the couch, eating snacks, and watching k dramas. sometimes i just need to forget for a bit. 

you: sounds pretty perfect, honestly. no better way to recharge.

there was a brief pause, and when his message came through, it was a little more thoughtful than the previous ones.

my cutie: yeah, it is. but honestly, talking to you like this is kinda the best recharge i’ve had in a while.

he quickly sent another message

my cutie: actually… i was wondering… how would you feel about meeting up sometime? we could, you know, hang out. maybe grab some food or something, just the two of us?

you blinked at the screen, your heart racing. it was such a simple invitation, yet it made your stomach flutter with excitement. He wanted to spend time with you, just the two of you. you quickly typed your reply, your fingers moving faster than you could think.

you: i’d love that. when were you thinking?

the reply came almost instantly, his message light and happy.

my cutie: how about this weekend? we can pick a spot, no pressure, just a nice, easy time together.

your heart skipped a beat at the idea of finally meeting him in person. it felt like everything was falling into place, and you couldn’t wait to share that moment with him.

you: that sounds perfect. i’m honestly so excited for it. 😊

my cutie: i’m really looking forward to it too. we can pick a spot, no pressure, just a nice, easy time together.

his words felt so relaxed and sweet, and the thought of a simple, carefree time together made your heart swell with affection.

you: can’t wait! talk soon, cutie. 😊

my cutie: talk soon! get some rest, okay? i’ll be thinking about you. 😌

You blush as you realize you called him a cutie over text. it wasn’t just a passing thought - no, you actually typed it out and sent it to him. You basically called him a cutie to his face, albeit through a screen, and now you're not sure if you're more embarrassed by the words or how quickly they slipped out.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sunoo was lying on the couch, completely sprawled out, his legs draped lazily over the armrest as he kicked his feet and grinned at his phone. he felt like a teenage girl, the way he was giddily tapping away, heart fluttering with every message from y/n. it was all so… effortless. so natural. talking to her felt like slipping into a warm blanket, and no matter how many times they texted, it never felt boring or dull. she was just so perfect in his eyes, so easy to talk to. the way she made him feel special without even trying, how her words were like little sparks of joy that lit up his day... he couldn’t help but smile at the screen, his heart swelling in his chest.

the conversations were always light, casual - never forced, always just right. but beneath the surface, sunoo felt something more. every message, every response, was like a sweet little secret they shared, even if neither of them had said it out loud yet. he was starting to realize he was way too invested, maybe even falling for her without meaning to. it was becoming obvious to him, but he still hadn’t figured out how to make her see it. 

his heart skipped a beat when he thought back to last night - he’d worked up the courage to ask her to meet up this weekend. well, he hadn’t exactly called it a date - he didn’t want to scare her off - but he had definitely dropped enough hints, he felt his face heat up at the memory of how nervous he’d been.

as excited as he was, there was a wave of uncertainty. he was so down bad for her, so caught up in these feelings that he couldn’t quite control. the reality of it hit him in waves, especially when he realized just how badly he was falling for this perfect woman. he couldn’t help but feel like he was a little out of his depth.

it had been so quick, but it felt so right. every time he saw her name pop up on his phone, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. and the best part was, she seemed just as genuine, just as real as when they first met, she always treated him like a real person, like he wasn't a global superstar, it was nice. and yet, there was still that little doubt gnawing at him. was she feeling the same way, or was he reading too much into their conversations? it didn’t help that his group members were starting to catch on. they’d tease him relentlessly, calling him out when he’d get all starry-eyed and distracted. 

sometimes, when they all gathered together, they’d look at him with knowing smirks, teasing him even more. but it wasn’t just his groupmates that were noticing. he couldn’t help it, he just stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop replaying their conversations in his head, imagining how things could unfold if they really took a step forward. it was terrifying and thrilling all at once.

and despite all that nervousness, that overwhelming feeling of uncertainty, sunoo couldn’t help but get even more excited. maybe it was reckless, maybe he should take it slow, but when it came to her, all he could think was what if… what if she felt the same way? 

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you woke up early on sunday, excitement buzzing in your chest. you knew today was the day. you wanted everything to be perfect - especially the way you looked. it was silly, you told yourself. you wanted him to like you for you, for the person you truly were, not just the way you looked. but still, there was that little part of you that wanted to catch his eye, make him think you were cute, maybe even a little alluring. just the thought of him noticing you in that way made your heart flutter.

you picked out a soft, fuzzy sweater that felt like a warm hug, paired it with a cute skirt and tights, something simple but put-together. it wasn’t over-the-top, just enough to feel confident, maybe even a little special. you took a few moments to do your makeup, just enough to highlight your features but not make it obvious. you wanted to look effortless, but also effortlessly cute. after a quick check in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, checked the time, and rushed out the door, heart racing with anticipation.

the coffee shop was just a short walk away, and you arrived a little earlier than you had planned. upon checking your phone, you realized you had arrived twenty minutes early. you smiled to yourself, relieved that you had plenty of time to settle in. you thought about grabbing a table to wait for him, maybe look over the menu or just check your messages, but when you walked in, your eyes immediately landed on him. 

there he was, sitting at a small table by the window, already looking at you with those warm eyes, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. just like the first day you saw him, he looked effortlessly cute - his hair a little messy in that endearing way, his smile soft and inviting. he’s already here? your heart skipped a beat as your own cheeks flushed, warmth spreading across your face. 

for a moment, you just stood there, taking in the sight of him, suddenly unsure of yourself. was he waiting for you? was he nervous too? but before you could think too much, your legs carried you toward the table. you smiled nervously, trying to keep your cool as you sat down across from him. you sat down across from sunoo, the nervous energy in the air palpable. there was a slight flush on his cheeks, the same adorable color you saw the first time you met him, and the way he smiled at you made your heart flutter. 

“hey,” you said softly, smiling as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“me too,” sunoo replied, his voice a little breathless. he adjusted in his seat, fidgeting with his cup before looking back at you, his eyes soft. “i, uh… i hope i’m not making things awkward. i don’t really do this often, you know? go out on, um, dates…” he trailed off, clearly trying to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. it was endearing. the way his words came out, a little stilted and unsure, but with a warmth that made you feel safe.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling your nerves settle a bit. “it’s okay,” you said gently, reaching for your drink. “i’m nervous too, honestly. but it’s nice, right? just getting to know each other in a quiet, relaxed place.”

sunoo nodded eagerly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah, i agree. i like this. it’s nice not having to worry about people... you know, staring at us, or... getting distracted.”

the way he said it, so simple, made you feel a sense of calm. the pressure was off. it was just the two of you. the conversation flowed easily after that, like old friends catching up. you talked about everything—the coffee shop, your favorite books, movies, random little things that made you laugh. time seemed to slow down, and the more you learned about him, the more you liked him. 

as the conversation continued, sunoo’s nervous energy seemed to settle, and he started to relax more, his gestures becoming a little more fluid. you noticed how his hands would gesture softly when he talked about something he loved, and how his eyes sparkled when he smiled at you. there was something magnetic about him, even in the small, intimate moments.

after a while, you both finished your drinks, and sunoo suggested moving on to the second part of the day. “so, i was thinking... do you want to go to the aquarium after this? i know it’s a little cliche, but i think it could be fun.” he looked at you with those wide, hopeful eyes, waiting for your response.

you smiled, feeling a wave of warmth fill your chest. “that sounds perfect. i love aquariums. it’s kind of romantic too, don’t you think? all those beautiful fish, soft lighting... it could be peaceful.”

sunoo’s face lit up. “yeah! exactly! i thought it might be nice, too.”

you both stood and walked out of the coffee shop together, the air crisp against your skin. sunoo seemed to walk a little closer to you now, and you couldn’t help but notice how your arms brushed occasionally. you could feel the electricity in the air—those small moments of closeness that made everything feel more meaningful.

when you arrived at the aquarium, the dim lighting and soothing sounds of water immediately set the tone. it was quieter here, peaceful. the gentle sway of the sea creatures and the soft glow of the tanks made everything feel almost dreamlike. as you strolled through the exhibits, you found yourselves walking slowly, side by side. sunoo kept glancing over at you, a soft smile on his face.

“this is nice,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “i’m glad we did this. it’s just… calm. and we can just… talk, you know? no pressure.”

you nodded, your heart swelling. “yeah, i feel the same. it’s nice to be able to take it slow. no rushing.”

there was a slight pause, the quiet around you only amplified by the soft bubbling of the water in the tanks. you stopped in front of a large tank filled with glowing jellyfish, their bodies floating gracefully. the soft light made everything feel even more serene. sunoo glanced at you and then at the jellyfish, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“i think i like that about you,” he said, his words a little hesitant but so genuine. “you make me feel like i can just be myself around you.”

you looked at him, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. your heart skipped a beat as you realized how much it meant to share this moment together, you responded softly, your gaze meeting his a slight smile on your lips, “i’m really glad i’m here, with you.”

sunoo’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his lips curled into a small, shy smile. “me too. i didn’t think it’d feel this… nice. i guess i was kind of nervous, but now…” he trailed off, taking a small step closer. “i don’t want this to end, you know?”

you could feel your breath catch at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out gently, brushing your fingers against his hand. his eyes flickered down to your hand, then back to your face, a soft blush creeping up his neck. “i don’t either,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “i like this. being with you.”

there was a moment of silence, the world around you fading into the background as you both stood there, just looking at each other. the soft glow of the aquarium illuminated his face, and for a second, you felt like you were the only two people in the world. everything felt so simple, yet so perfect.

sunoo took a deep breath, as if summoning the courage for something. “do you maybe… want to do this again sometime? i mean, not the aquarium. but… you know. like, a real date. with you.”

your heart skipped, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “i’d like that,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. “i really would.”

sunoo smiled back, the shy, endearing boy you’d come to know so well, and for a moment, it felt like everything was falling perfectly into place. the date was everything you had hoped for - and more.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you left the aquarium, your mind still buzzing from the experience, but there was something else now - an undeniable tension in the air between you two. it felt different, almost electric. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but every time your hands brushed, it felt like something more than just a coincidence. 

then, as you walked side by side down the sidewalk, sunoo’s hand gently found its way into yours. the warmth of his fingers wrapping around yours made your heart skip a beat. you didn’t even have time to process the action before a blush crept up your cheeks. looking over at him, you noticed his cheeks were flushed too, and his eyes were slightly widened, almost like he was still surprised by his own boldness. it was the sweetest thing you’d ever seen.

the two of you continued walking, your steps a little slower, savoring the moment. when you reached a quieter part of the sidewalk, you stopped and turned to face him. sunoo paused too, his eyes searching yours with a hint of curiosity.

you felt your heart race, your mouth suddenly dry. "i was wondering..." you started, unsure of how to phrase it, the words coming out more nervously than you intended. "would you want to come over and watch a movie?" 

as the question left your mouth, you immediately felt heat rise in your face. it sounded so simple in your head, but now that it was out in the open, it felt much more vulnerable. “i-i’m just not sure i want today to end yet,” you mumbled, barely able to make eye contact, your blush deepening.

for a moment, the air seemed to hold its breath, and you were starting to feel like maybe you’d overstepped. but then you saw it—the way sunoo’s eyes softened, his lips curling into that familiar, shy smile you’d come to adore. he looked at you with a sense of warmth that made your heart flutter.

“honestly, i would love that,” he replied, his voice gentle, and there was something about the way he said it that made you feel like everything was falling into place.

your heart swelled with relief and excitement as you both continued holding hands, walking back to your place. the city lights around you were soft, casting a warm glow as you made your way to your apartment. it felt like the perfect end to a perfect day, and yet there was a sense of anticipation in the air, like something more was about to unfold.

once you got inside, the familiar comfort of your apartment seemed to settle around you. you slipped your shoes off and sank onto the couch, the soft cushions inviting you in. then, without really thinking about it, you moved a little closer to sunoo, leaning into him just enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours. you were suddenly aware of the way he tensed up a little, but it didn’t last long - he quickly relaxed into the position, and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he settled beside you. 

you could both feel the electricity of the moment, the growing closeness that you both had been dancing around all evening. your stomach fluttered with nerves, but it felt right. it felt like you were both figuring out what this was. you grabbed the remote, trying to distract yourself a movie. you chose one of the first films that popped up on the screen—something lighthearted, you thought. but as the opening credits rolled, you suddenly realized you had made a terrible mistake. you hadn't checked the rating, and it was definitely not the kind of movie you’d intended. the film was rated R, and as the characters in the movie started to get closer, you felt the heat rise in your face again.

you tried to keep your focus on the screen, but every time the camera panned to the characters, your eyes couldn’t help but dart over to sunoo. you caught him quickly glancing away, a nervous chuckle escaping him. his whole body was a little tense, like he was trying to avoid acknowledging the fact that you were both watching an incredibly intimate scene. 

the background noises from the movie only made things worse - moans and heated whispers. the tension between you two was palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. you were both blushing furiously, trying to ignore the scene unfolding, but it was impossible.

you tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a strangled cough. you grabbed the remote in a panic, fumbling with it as you quickly skipped ahead, fast-forwarding past the scene with a little too much force. but even as the steamy scene disappeared from the screen, the awkward energy lingered, and you both sat there, still feeling the weight of the moment.

for a long while, neither of you spoke. the movie played on, but it was clear that neither of you were really paying attention to it anymore. sunoo glanced over at you with a nervous smile, the soft lines of his face lit by the glow of the television screen. 

you couldn’t help but lean in closer, the pull between you two too strong to ignore. you knew you probably shouldn’t, considering that whatever was going on between you was still undefined, and maybe rushing it wasn’t the smartest thing to do. but in that moment, it didn’t matter. the space between you seemed to shrink with each passing second, and you just couldn’t hold back anymore. 

you glanced up at sunoo, and the warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter. there was a quiet intensity there, a longing that mirrored your own, and in that look, you found something you hadn’t expected - he wanted this too. 

without thinking, you shifted, positioning yourself so you were now facing him, your body comfortably nestled in his lap. he clearly hadn’t expected the sudden move, and you could feel his breath hitch in surprise, but there was no tension, no hesitation. he relaxed almost immediately, his hands gently settling on your waist, as though he was silently saying, it’s okay, I want this too.

you paused for a moment, just taking him in. sunoo wasn’t bulky, not like other guys you had met, but he was slender and graceful, his body still holding the quiet strength of someone who took care of himself. his frame felt right against yours, and his face - so beautiful, so expressive - made your heart race. there was something about him, something that made every word feel softer and every movement feel like it meant something more. 

his eyes flickered to your lips and back up to your eyes, a silent invitation, and without even thinking, you leaned in slightly. in a moment of shared understanding, he closed the distance between you two, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was gentle. his lips were soft and warm, the touch sweet. everything about the kiss was tender, but you could feel the undercurrent of desire in it. it was like he was pouring everything into that moment - the way he pulled you closer, his hands now gently resting on the curve of your back, holding you to him as if you might slip away. it was a sweet, almost perfect kiss, just like him - full of emotion, but soft, full of warmth and affection, like he was telling you everything he couldn't quite say with words. you broke the kiss, your faces still inches apart, both of you breathing a little faster, hearts racing. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, but there was an understanding. whatever this was between you - however undefined or new - it was real.

he broke the silence with a simple sentence “i don't want to go on anymore dates that might not be dates,” he said with a laugh, “i really want to go out with you for real, i’m in love with you.”

you smile, your heart still racing, “me too, i'm in love with you too.”

[shobioo]

workspace love ✎ 006 || Good Morning

✎ MAIN || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Keiji Akashi wasn't a morning person.

This is why as unpredictable city life could be, Akaashi had the perfect routine that he had followed every morning to ensure he'd be all set for his day.

However. His day was thrown off when his new coworker lay next to him, practically suffocating him in a cuddle he didn't want to be in. YIN L/N, how could he describe her in the short days he's known her.

She’s Shameless

Eccentric

And erratic

The list could go on really. Anyhow, Y/N L/N has the personality Akaashi cannot read. It might be because he doesn’t know her that well yet, but he can’t understand her one bit.

And he cannot understand why she’s taken a big interest in him. Akaashi groaned as he sat up in his bed, the grip Y/N had on him undid itself. Taking a small glance at her he felt a huff escape him.

“This is gonna be a morning.”

Keiji would’ve dropped you off at home after last nights celebration. Yet, you somehow didn’t know where you lived or how to get there. You forgot how to work your phone, how to walk almost. Okay, basically after you drank more than your body could even handle you became some baby.

Akaashi wasn’t the type to leave a woman stranded and not functioning like a human. So, he took you back to his house.

You hissed holding your forehead.

Keiji was just glad you were suffering the consequences for drinking like a sailor. "My head is killing me.” Hearing you shuffle in the bed Keiji took this chance to get up himself.

You blink, adjusting to your surroundings. “Now this isn’t my house.”

“Obviously not.”

Screaming you jump back hitting you head on the headboard. You hold back a groan and hold your head, silently cursing at these events.

“You can’t just scare people like that!” You yell, taking notice it was your coworker.

Wait.

YOUR COWORKER??

“What are you doing in my house?” Keiji felt himself sigh again at you. “I should be asking you, what are you doing in my house.”

Dumbfounded you raise your eyebrow waiting for him to tell you what you’re doing here exactly.

Akaashi could face palm right about now. “Alright, to sum things up. You got shit-face drunk and I took you to my house so you’d be okay.”

Feeling your eyes water you gasp. “Keiji-“ “Akaashi.”Ignoring his comment you went back into your story. “You’re so sweet! You didn’t want me to get hurt so you just took me to your house, and here I thought you were some weirdo! I could almost kiss you.”

“Please don’t.” He huffed. He was certainly right this would be a morning for him. You click your tongue. “I said almost.” Your small attitude didn’t last long as your head started pounding. Akaashi watched as you groaned and laid back down.

He’d be a dick to just kick you out now. “You’re such a pain.” He told aloud, which you only groaned to in reply.

“I’ll be back, I’m gonna get you some aspirin.” He watched you give him a thumbs up.

“How do you like your eggs too.”

You wanted to make a silly remark but the pain wouldn’t let you. “Over easy.”

You watched as he left out the doorway. You can never forgive yourself for drinking so much, you know it was bound to happen again but still.

Finally taking in the room before you, you noticed how neat and clean it was. Everything fit into place in his house, which made sense since it’s someone like Keiji.

You looked around, noticing your phone was plugged up and set on his dresser. Going to reach for it you started to contemplate, there were either going to be a viral video of you doing something terrible and you could lose your job for it or you’d have a bunch of missed calls and missed texts from your friends… or worse your mother.

Maybe, it could even be the impossible. Akaashi telling you to marry him via text message! Okay, that was a joke and definitely impossible but would be a better surprise to wake up to.

Clicking your phone on you see what you feared the most.

Your friends spamming you.

Clicking your phone off you place it back on the dresser. “Not at this hour, no way.” You tell yourself, crossing your arms and shutting your eyes.

“And I’m supposed to be the weirdo?” You hear Akaashi ask from the doorway.

“Don’t sneak up on people!”

“You’re in my house?”

“Still!”

Sighing Akaashi goes over to you handing you a cup of water and an aspirin. Thanking him you take it, which really isn’t a good idea if you had just woken up in your coworkers house, nonetheless.

“Thank you, I don’t even know how long I could’ve handled that headache.” Drinking some water from the cup the handed you, you pause.

“Oh yeah! Good morning.”

Akaashi gave you a confused stare. “You’re telling me this now?”

“So you aren’t going to say it back?” Feeling his lips curl in a small smile he shook his head. “Good morning, Y/N.”

“Don’t let my eggs burn, by the way.”

Watching Akaashi abruptly stand up you laughed. Akaashi definitely forgot about those eggs and he wasn’t going to admit it.

|| 🦋 notes ||

– Hi!! It’s me again 👁👁 sorry for another unexpected hiatus!

– BUT NOT THE POINT, POINT IS Y/N FR DID NOT PAY ATTENTION TO STRANGER DANGER 😧⁉️

– I luv them a lil

– Akaashi I like my eggs scrambled stink ☹️

TAGLIST IN REBLOGS <3

[biggest-stupidhead]

Never Ready

Summary: “It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.”

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Levi is faced with the difficult decision of taking in his newly orphaned cousin. But he can't do it alone.You're a newly graduated college student looking to make some extra cash, but get more than you originally bargained for...

Word Count: 2.3K 

--

The day had started just like any other day. He woke up early and worked out before making himself a small breakfast of tea and an English muffin with some jam. Then he got dressed for work in one of his perfectly tailored suits. His routine was flawless, perfected over many years to allow him to seamlessly slip from one task into the next. He arrived one full hour before work actually began so that he could organize his desk and get a jump on the day’s cleaning. He liked working in a clean environment, if this step was missed (or really any of them for that matter), his entire day was thrown off. 

And today was one of those days. About four minutes before the office officially opened, Levi got a phone call. He had the phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he finished wiping down his desk with a clorox wipe. 

“We regretfully inform you that your cousin and his wife were involved in an armed robbery.” 

He froze at this, his eyes narrowing as the woman waited for his response. 

“What was stolen?” He asked before continuing to wipe down the surface. 

“Sir…” The woman spoke slowly and Levi began to lose his patience. 

“Listen, I appreciate the phone call but quite honestly I don’t have time for this.” He said bitterly as he disposed of the wipe. 

“This is very important sir, your cousin, and his wife were both murdered in the process.” The woman informed him and his blood ran cold. Although he had never been close with his extended family, the news was still tragic. 

“I see,” Levi grumbled as a boulder seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m calling regarding their daughter, Mikasa. Seeing that Mr. Ackerman was an only child, as was Mrs. Ackerman, and their parents have passed, you and your uncle are her next of kin.” The woman continued as Levi sank into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What do we need to do?” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes, waiting patiently for her response. 

“You have a few options, either of you could gain full parental rights to her, or she will become a ward of the state.” Some shuffling could be heard on her end of the line and Levi felt his heart rate spike. For a time in his own life, he had been thrown into the system, that was until his own uncle had gained custody after sobering up. 

“I understand,” Levi grumbled, watching as his coworkers set about their daily business as he was dealing with this unforeseen issue. 

“The decision doesn’t need to be made immediately of course. I strongly encourage that the two of you discuss this at length. The funeral is this Thursday, Mikasa and myself will be there and we can talk in greater depth then.” The sound of a keyboard clacking filled the short silence as he considered what an appropriate response would be. 

“I’ll...get back to you.” He leaned forward in his seat and clicked on his calendar, crossing out the lengthy list of tasks and replacing it with, FUNERAL. 

“Thank you, and sorry for your loss.” He hung up the phone and reclined back into his seat. This was quite possibly the biggest disruption he would ever face in his life. He hated that his cousin and his shitty wife had left this burden to rest on his shoulders. But upon further thought, his own mother had done the same thing to his uncle. You know what they say: history repeats itself. 

It seemed that as soon as he had set the phone down, it rang. His uncle’s contact lit up his screen and he let it ring three times before picking it up. 

“Did ya hear?” Kenny’s deep voice crackled over his speaker and Levi grunted. 

“Yeah, just got off of the phone with the social worker,” Levi informed him and Kenny hummed deeply. 

“What do you think?” He pressed and Levi felt his annoyance increase by tenfold. 

“I think that it’s a load of shit. And you?” Levi asked as he crossed his legs under his desk. 

“Same here.” Kenny agreed. 

“It’s not ideal, but we can’t let her go into foster care,” Kenny grumbled and Levi hummed his agreement. Kenny was right, even if she was distantly related, Mikasa was still a part of their family. 

“So are you going to take custody then?” Levi scoffed, knowing damn well that Kenny was pushing fifty and had a chronic case of bad arthritis. 

“Hell no, I’ve done my part by raising you.” Kenny laughed bitterly and Levi’s expression soured. 

“It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.” Levi countered and Kenny let out another bark of laughter. 

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Kenny chuckled mirthfully as Levi shifted in his seat. He knew that Kenny was right, and he knew from the moment that the social worker had said that Mikasa needed someone, that it would be him taking her. 

“I’ll need to get a bigger place then.” Levi sighed his fingers rubbing tight circles over his temple as he thought of his bachelor-sized apartment. 

“Damn straight.” Kenny chuckled as Levi shot a look at the clock, it was nearly twenty minutes into the workday already. 

“Look, I’m at work. I’ll talk to you on Thursday at the funeral.” 

“See you then.” Kenny hung up and Levi let out a long exhale. His week was off to a terrible start. 

--

In movies, funerals are usually held in dreary weather. But today was almost too beautiful for a funeral. It was late January and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of sparkling snow. As the coffins were lowered into the two holes the social worker held Mikasa on her hip. She was only four, and there was no way that she could fully grasp what had happened. Levi stood with his hands shoved deep inside of his pockets. 

Kenny stood off to his left, a large distance between the two of them. There couldn’t have been more than seven people here, Levi assumed that they were friends of the family. The other attendees came up to him before and gave their condolences to Levi and Kenny, who both said nothing in return. The service was quick, Levi and Kenny had opted out of paying more than what the state offered. In Kenny’s own words, “Dead is dead, no fancy funeral is going to help them now.” 

To some, it may seem heartless, but it was the way that the family coped with death. Once the funeral was over, Kenny and Levi joined the service worker to get a cup of coffee in a nearby cafe. She had passed Mikasa off to a brunette woman before leaving the cemetery. Levi assumed that she was the foster woman that they had placed her with, or possibly a family friend. 

“So, I understand that you wish to gain custody?” Michelle was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and prominent wrinkles on her forehead. As she flipped through files that were spread across the table Levi nodded as he sipped his tea. 

“That’s correct,” Levi affirmed and she nodded before spinning the paperwork so that he could read the form. 

“I’m sure that you understand that this is no small commitment.” She spoke as she passed him a pen. He scoffed and began initialing and signing where necessary. 

“Of course,” Levi grunted before flipping the page. 

“Before you can gain full custody, the state will need to see some changes in your lifestyle, for starters, you’ll need to move within her current school district and continue to hold a steady job.” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Levi mumbled, pausing to read the paper before signing. 

“Excellent, once these needs are met, she can be placed under your care,” Michelle informed as Levi skimmed over the page. 

“Anything else?” Levi asked as he signed the last form presented to him. 

“Not at this time, I’m sure that you’re well versed in most of our policies, seeing that the two of you went through a similar process.” Michelle continued as she neatly returned the papers to their folder. 

“Yes.” Levi agreed as he brought his cup back to his lips. Kenny had been silent for most of the exchange. If Levi was being honest, he was relieved to have him there, even if he wasn’t contributing. 

“Great, we’ll be in touch then.” Michelle smiled tensely before excusing herself, leaving Kenny and Levi alone at the table. Kenny finished his coffee and stood up, stretching with a loud groan. 

“Well, I’m off to the office,” Kenny said with a short wave behind his shoulder. Levi watched him go, feeling a strange sense of dread settle into his gut. It all felt so surreal, even if he was thirty and most of his peers were already parents themselves, he still felt unprepared. It was just like Kenny had said, nothing could prepare him to take on this role. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t his to take, and he would be damned if he let Mikasa get thrown into the foster care system. 

Levi set to work on finding a house in the district that the social worker had given him. He had never been a fan of suburbs, but at this time it was all that he could afford. So he found a decent house with four bedrooms, one for himself, one for Mikasa one for guests, and a final for a study. He was lucky enough to have a decent job, and a respectable grasp on his finances, it took him a week to finalize the buy, but in the end, he was glad that he did. 

He had been meaning to get out of his stuffy apartment anyway, (or so he reasoned with himself), he moved his belongings out of his downtown apartment in less than a week. Once the house was effectively moved into, he then began the tedious process of preparing Mikasa’s things. He started by doing research on what four-year-olds needed and then set about buying the necessities. He felt out of place as he shopped through Target in the little girl’s section, buying bedding and such. But he got the job done, he knew that she had to have some clothes, and decided that he’d cross that bridge when he got there. 

It was the night before Michelle was scheduled to visit, and Levi had invited Hange over for a drink. Hange had nosed around for about an hour, acquainting herself with Levi’s new space and gushing when she saw the modest room that he had prepared for Mikasa. 

“I can’t believe that you’re actually going through with this!” Hange cooed as she sat on the small bed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked defensively as he propped himself on the doorframe. Honestly, he had been avoiding this room, it felt that if he acknowledged the space, the heavier the weight of the situation crushed his chest. 

“I just...never thought that you liked kids. But I’m really proud of you.” Hange beamed as she smoothed out the pink comforter as she stood. 

“What made you think that I didn’t like kids?” He scoffed as the pair left the room, he closed the door quietly behind them as they made their way into the kitchen. 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I just made the assumption based on your obsession with cleanliness.” Hange waved her hand dismissively and Levi clicked his tongue as he poured two glasses of wine. 

“They are filthy.” Levi agreed as he brought the glass of red wine to his lips. 

“What’s she like?” Hange asked, wrapping her own fingers around her glass as she eagerly awaited his response. 

“....I haven’t met her.” Levi felt a wave of panic crash over his chest as Hange’s eyes widened. 

“Never?” Hange couldn’t hide her astonishment. 

“Never,” Levi said with a roll of his eyes. 

“You’re serious?” Hange pressed and Levi glared at her. 

“Do I ever joke about these things?” Levi snapped and she held her hands up in defeat. 

“I’m just surprised is all,” Hange mumbled before taking a long sip of her wine. 

“I wasn’t close with her parents,” Levi explained as he put the cork back on the bottle. 

“Well...maybe you should take some extra time off of work,” Hange suggested and Levi sighed deeply. 

“I can’t, I’ve already taken off more than I planned.” Levi sat on the barstool next to Hange and she swiveled to face him, their knees knocking against each other. 

“But this is not something that you take lightly Levi. She’s a four-year-old girl who lost both of her parents. She’s going to need a lot of attention.” Hange looked concerned and Levi’s expression soured. 

“I understand that, but my job is-” 

“Is not your priority anymore. Have you thought about what you’re going to do for childcare yet? She’s too young for school. Or at least not full days.” Hange interrupted. 

“So I’ll put her in daycare, or preschool.” Levi shrugged and Hange pursed her lips. 

“That could work, but don’t you usually stay late at the office?” Hange pressed and Levi chewed on the inside of his cheek guiltily. 

“Maybe you should consider getting a nanny. Plenty of my student’s nanny, I could give you some good recommendations.” She offered before lifting her glass to her lips. 

“Maybe…” Levi suddenly felt way in over his head, if all went well in the morning, then Mikasa would be sent his way in nearly a week. 

“I’ll ask around on Monday,” Hange said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. For once, he didn’t shy away. 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Hey! I saw you were taking requests :3 would you mind writing (hcs, scenario, anything!) a thing where, shortly pre-OVW recall, McCree and his old teammate (f or neutral pronouns are fine but it’s up to u!!) accidentally meet again after he left without warning? Bonus points for “I thought u were dead/I was never gonna see you again” type stuff :p thanks! Sorry if this was confusing!

{This was, like, super fun to write? I did kinda flip part of the script, but it still fits what you asked for (hopefully). Minor warning for implied alcoholism though, oops. It can also be read as more of a “bars exist for brawls” than “alcohol is my coping method” though, so maybe that’s not as bad??? IDK, at least the ending feels cute.} {-J}

After the fall of Overwatch and its subdivisions, there were certain things that you had been forced to accept: Dozens of your friends and coworkers had died, you were out of a job, and everything you had worked so hard for had crumbled into oblivion. So yeah, shit, you ended up drinking away your pain more than once. At this point you weren’t even sure how many places you were banned from. Still, you held onto the pride that came from never starting any fights, instead waiting for some asshole to decide he wanted to rumble with an ex-Blackwatch agent. It was messy, dangerous, and only added to your nasty reputation.

Few organizations would even think of hiring you. Did that make your drinking worse, or did your drinking make the job search harder?... It wasn’t something you wanted to dwell on, especially considering how desperately you were trying to change things. Mercenary work hadn’t suited you for long, as all your clients were faceless, mysterious forces pulling strings from the shadows. How could you trust that they weren’t like Talon?... Or like Blackwatch had become? In the end you had been forced to slink back into the shadows, praying to whatever gods may be that you could still do some good for the world.

That was a couple years ago. You had changed your name, traded out your old gear for something less suspicious, and set yourself up along the halfway point of Route 66. The area was known for its problems with gangs, violence, and a general lack of government intervention. Sure, the road itself spanned across eight different states, but most of it had been in a state of disrepair for a few decades now. The Omnic Crisis was the final push that sealed the region’s fate. Or, at least, it had been. Some people still cared.

Like you. Why else would you be here, now, scanning the horizon, a beer in one hand, binoculars in the other? There certainly weren’t any good birdwatching spots nearby. Just a rundown gas station perfect for staging ambushes, an old school diner with shitty coffee, and a dusty, dirty crevice up high, wonderful for keeping an eye on it all. You didn’t like it up here, but it was the only discreet place to perform surveillance on the local miscreants. 

Apparently a new gang was starting to harass people in the area, despite the proximity to Deadlock turf, and were trying to sell “insurance”. Understandably, that really pissed you off. Sweet-talking one of the locals had gotten you insight on the gang’s general daily routine. Nothing too specific, unfortunately. Now all you had to do was wait for the scum to show up so you could pound them into the dirt.

Taking a quick swig from your beer, you settled in a little, preparing to wait for who knows how long….

    Dust flew into the air like a trail of smoke, blurring your vision but not deterring you in the slightest. You slipped around your target, barely avoiding his second kick, before slamming your elbow into the back of his head. Sure enough he went crashing down with a thud. More dirt was kicked up in the process. At least it made it a little harder for the gang members still outside to target you. Another quick dash landed you behind cover, where you could finally take a moment to breathe.

    “Damn it,” you grumbled, hearing yet another bullet whiz past your hiding spot. There were still four or five gunmen outside. Truthfully, that was the total number of people you had expected to find, not just the backup boys. Sure, you had prepared for unforeseen hiccups, but apparently not enough. In over your head, stuck sitting like a duck, reminded more and more of the old days. Shit, you missed your teammates. Normally Jesse or Genji would have saved your ass by now.

    You missed them. So much, in fact, that you were pretty sure you just heard Jesse’s signature “high noon” line. It almost made you feel like you were a bit more tipsy than you had thought. When the sound of a revolver firing reached your ears, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had actually died; if so, this was the weirdest form of afterlife known to mankind. Curiosity ended up getting the best of you. Crawling to the side, you made sure not to reveal any part of yourself to your enemy, working your way towards the building’s secondary entrance. That was still within the gang’s line of sight, but you hoped it was far enough to the side that they wouldn’t immediately notice you poking around the corner.

    Sure enough, nobody shot at you when you turned the corner. Someone did, however, raise a silver revolver in your direction. Air got caught in your lungs as you stared down that ever-so-familiar barrel. Relief started to flood your chest… until you realized that the gunman wasn’t wavering in his stance. Your gaze follows up his arm, to his face, and you suddenly wish you weren’t wearing this stupid goddamn mask.

    “Hold it, buddy, unless you want to end up like your compadres back there,” Jesse McCree drawls, tipping his head back towards the fallen gang members. Evidently he hadn’t seen you beating the crap out of the ones inside. Still, you raised your hands slowly, showing your lack of weapons. “There we go. Now, take off that there lil’ mask, nice and easy, alright?” You complied, of course, tossing it to the side before throwing a grin in Jesse’s direction. His reaction made you really, really wish you had brought a camera. The normally smooth and put-together cowboy is now slack jawed, a sense of wonder (and something else…?) in his eyes. Soon your name drops from his lips, whispered like a sacred prayer.

    “It’s good to see you too, Jesse,” you manage to reply, still grinning like a fool. Hardly a moment passes before the wind is suddenly knocked out of you. Jesse had holstered his gun, closed the distance between the two of you, and pulled you into a hug in a matter of just a couple seconds. The action catches you by surprise, now making you the one to choke on the words caught in your throat. Still, you manage to hug him back, leaning in to gently rest your head against his chest.

    “Goddamnit, who gave you the right to surprise me like this?” He asks after a few moments of silence, his voice on the edge of breaking. His grip was tight, like a man desperate to keep his sanity clutching onto a lifetime of coping methods. Words failed you, barely managing a confused noise, as you pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. There was something you couldn’t comprehend in his gaze. Something you were missing, that required knowledge you didn’t have. Your head tipped to the side as you hoped for at least a little elaboration. Jesse seems to realize your cluelessness, and shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “I thought you were dead,” he murmurs, the words settling on his tongue with an all-too-familiar weight.

    Shit, you thought, eyes going wide for a moment. Thoughts raced through your head as you tried to process what he said, thinking back to what had happened after Blackwatch’s disbandment, wondering why he could possibly have thought that you were-

….

….

    Fuck.

    Yeah, that tracked. Going from constantly fighting in bars to fucking off to nowhere, changing your name, and turning to the vigilante lifestyle? No shit people thought you were dead. How had you ever thought that this was a good idea?... Sure, most of your old friends had done the same, scattering across the four winds without so much as a “lol bye” (or, you know, a proper farewell). However, that didn’t mean that there weren’t still people who cared, who you could have at least made the slightest effort to keep in touch with before disappearing. People like Jesse.

    “Now that you mention it, I realize I didn’t exactly leave much room for thinking anything else,” you replied, barely managing to speak through your embarrassment. A laugh tried to move past your teeth, even though you knew the timing was bad, but the sound died as soon as your gaze met Jesse’s.

    “That’s one hell of an understatement, old friend,” he said, hardly a trace of mirth to his name. Both of his arms were still around your frame, gently cradling you, as if a stiff breeze might sweep you away from him once more. You could feel his body shifting with every breath he took, slowly finding yourself matching the movements. One of Jesse’s hands moves to cup your cheek, fingers sliding so carefully that you almost didn’t feel it, but you lean it instinctively, finding your lips placing a whisper of a kiss against his wrist. “Darling,” he breathes, voice caught in his throat, blocked by joy and surprise alike.

    “I’m sorry for worrying you, Jesse. I swear I never meant to just vanish like that,” you plead, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “Things were bad, and I… I just ran from that, I guess. But you didn’t deserve that, at all, and I swear to whatever passes for high heaven these days, if you give me a chance-....” Pulled in closer, you couldn’t help but squeak a little when Jesse plants a kiss on your forehead. One of his hands is rubbing gentle circles into your back. A reassurance, one you desperately needed. “I can make it up to you. We can do better this time, right?...”

    Jesse didn’t say anything, at least not at first, but the feeling of his hat settling down on your head gave you all the answers you’d ever need.

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable Ch 25: Minimal Loss (S4E3)

[TW!!] Warnings: (This is the same content as found in the episode, so if you’ve seen it, don’t worry too much, but I find this one to deal with multiple sensitive topics at once, and I don’t gloss over it all, like I often do, so be careful) mentions of rape and pedophilia, depictions of torture, cults, murder-suicide

Ch 24 | Ch 26

A/N: Okay, so I’m four days late on posting this, but this is quite possibly the longest chapter I’ve posted, so hopefully that makes up for it?

~ ~ ~

Lydia’s family stayed for about a week, attached to Lydia at the hip the whole time. She loved her sister dearly and was glad to have some time with her father, but she could barely breathe by the time she was taking them to the airport. As she explained to Spencer, she was merely frustrated they didn’t give her any heads up.

Luckily, they left before her teaching schedule came back into full swing at the university. It was nice to get back into her routine and see some of her students and coworkers who were worried about her. She didn’t realize how close she’d gotten to the people there until the letters, phone calls, emails, and gifts started flooding in, telling her to take it easy and get back soon.

And then, in October, Hotch finally gave her a call for a case.

It was small, but she wanted to get out of her apartment so bad.

Hotch was sending Lydia and Prentiss to Colorado where there was a claim against a separation church leader raping young girls.

Spencer wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear Lydia was leaving, but the whole thing was fairly straight-forward: interview the kids, determine what they could about the cult itself, then see if there was reason to shut them down. Hotch knew that there wasn’t going to be any extraneous activity, so it was a perfect start to reintroducing Lydia to the field. Not to mention, she was very perceptive and a master manipulator.

“Tell us about the 911 call,” she said as she flipped through a file on the people of the church.

Emily was in the front seat with Nancy Lunde, from Child Protective Services. She was the head of the case and had the most prior knowledge on the group itself. “I believe the ‘he’ that they referred to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus.”

“Benjamin Cyrus,” Lydia mumbled, flipping to his page. “No criminal record. No record at all, really. I doubt it’s a real name. Correct me if I’m wrong, Emily, but Cyrus is a biblical name. A monarch. I’m seeing some subtle messages in there.”

“It translates to ‘sun’ in persian,” Emily agreed. “What else do you know about him?”

Lunde shook her head. “It’s rumored that he’s practicing polygamy and forced marriages,” she said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Any idea who the caller is?”

“Uh, Jessica Evanson is the one who the age fits, but… we can’t be sure. So I negotiated interviews with all the children. It wasn’t easy.”

“Well, considering their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI,” Emily explained and Lydia got to work on their covers. She took their guns, holsters, and badges, hiding them in the door of the car and handed Emily two fake IDs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.”

The Bureau had made them brand new drivers licences and CPS badges with Colorado addresses to complete their cover stories.

All too soon, they were approaching the front gate. The sign read ‘Liberty Church Ranch’ with a large cross beside it.

It was hot outside and Lydia could feel the dust coating her nose and throat as she exited the car, approaching a set of stairs leading up to the church.

“I’m looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus?” Lunde called to a figure on the steps.

“You found him.”

Cyrus wore a light flannel and jeans, with reading glasses perched on his nose and a book in his lap. Lydia had to hold herself back from calling him out on framing the scene. Oh, look how kind and relaxed we are. Our leader sits outside and reads books all day blahblahblahbl-

Open mind, Lydia.

“I’m Nancy Lunde. We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.”

He got up and approached the three of them. “‘Savages they call us. ‘Cause our manners differ from theirs.’”

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus,” the red-headed woman huffed.

“Actually, that’s Benjamin Franklin,” he sneered.

Nancy ignored this, and began introducing them. “Emily Prentiss, Lydia Ambers. They’re child victim interview experts.”

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be the need to invent a job called child victim interview expert?” Cyrus wondered.

“We wish we didn’t have to be here,” Emily said.

“So do we. But you are welcome, nonetheless. The children are in the school as I indicated.”

“Thank you.”

Lydia nodded and followed Emily off to the school building.

~ ~ ~

Jessica Evanson was not the kid they were looking for. Lydia could tell the moment she walked into the interview room. She was completely calm, the perfect child. Her hair was neatly brushed back, her polo shirt well ironed, and her hands folded neatly in front of her.

Her mother, Kathy, stood beside her, petting her hair gently, as if to reassure her, but Jessica clearly didn’t need it. She wasn’t intimidated by their presence at all.

“We go to school. We do our chores. And we treat ourselves and each other with the respect God demands.”

Emily sat across from her, conducting the interview, and Lydia stood beside her.

“But you’ve never been off of the ranch?” Emily asked.

“I brought Jessie here when she was two,” Kathy explained.

Jessica clearly was not having any of this. “You’ve talked to lots of children in your work. Tell me, are their lives somehow better than ours?”

“We devote ourselves to God,” Kathy continued. “That doesn’t mean we’re not devoted to our children.”

“We are not here because of your religious beliefs,” Emily reasoned.

“Why are you here?” Jessica demanded.

She was starting to become hostile. She grew up in a cult that taught her to hate outsiders, so Lydia couldn’t blame her for her behavior. But her mother was clearly a peacemaker, so where did she learn it from? It wasn’t defiance from her family, because that would put her against the group, not for it.

“We received a phone call alleging that an adult male member of your church was having inappropriate relations with the younger women here.”

“You’re talking about Cyrus,” she responded, almost immediately.

“What makes you say that?” Emily asked.

Her mother immediately became defensive, trying to get her daughter to be quiet, but Jessica was still determined to make a point.

“Is it inappropriate for a husband to share a bed with his wife?”

Lydia’s eyes shot open. His what?

“You are married to Cyrus?” Emily spoke slowly, as if worried that the question would escalate the situation, but Jessica stayed proper in stance, if not in tongue.

“Yes. Cyrus is my husband and a prophet. It’s an honor to bear his children.”

It took everything in Lydia not to look disgusted by the thought and keep the interview going. “Jessica, you aren’t old enough to get married without parental consent.”

Emily nodded at the mother. “She gave consent.”

Before anyone could continue, a loud sound from outside got their attention. There was some yelling and suddenly Cyrus and a few other men were rushing in, machine guns in hand.

Lydia let her shock show on her face. Not just that they had the weapons, but that they would carry them around a school where CPS workers were present.

“Get up!” Cyrus demanded, turning on her and Emily. “Get up! Move!”

On the other side of the room, Nancy was entertaining the other kids. “What’s going on?” she asked softly.

“We just got a very strange phone call from a news reporter,” Cyrus began and a man walked around Emily and started to pat her down for weapons.

They were both unarmed, but Lydia was starting to regret that. These men were clearly threatened by their presence. What the hell had happened?

Another man walked around to check her and unceremoniously smacked her in the side, causing her to wince involuntarily. Cyrus clearly noticed this, but said nothing, continuing on with his point.

“Is there anything you want to tell me? About a raid, maybe?”

She and Emily exchanged a concerned look. A raid? They weren’t prepared for that. They had checked in with the state before joining child services to the ranch, there shouldn’t have been a raid on this church.

Luckily for them, Cyrus took their concern for fear and nodded. “They don’t know,” he determined. “Bring them along.”

A man grabbed Lydia’s arm and dragged her across the room, where another armed man was opening a hatch in the wall. A tunnel. A few guards went first, then they started ushering the people in. Women with their kids, Nancy, Emily, and Lydia all surrounded by machine guns, leaping into a dark hole underneath the church.

The passage underneath the buildings was too thin to walk side by side, so the guards let them go on by themselves.

“What’s going on?” Nancy whispered to the two FBI members ahead of her.

“We’re not sure yet,” Emily hissed. “Just stay calm.”

As they reached a large opening directly underneath the chapel, they could hear gunfire from above ground.

Prentiss pulled Lydia aside, trying to get as far away from the crowd as possible. “If this escalates, Cyrus is going to put this place on lockdown. The FBI is going to be in charge of negotiations as long as we’re inside. Do you know the Critical Incident Response Group handbook?”

Lydia shook her head quickly. God, it would be helpful if Spencer were here. He probably knew that book front and back. Lydia didn’t know what she was doing.

“Okay.” Emily fumbled, trying to determine what was important for Lydia to know before they had to revert back to their covers. “CIRG will bug all the windows and anything else they can get to. So, anything you need them to know, find a way to say it out loud. Keep the inside members talking. We won’t be able to know what the team already knows so tell them everything. If there are blinds on a window, they might be blocking the sound, so try and get them out of the way before speaking.”

“Best hope it doesn’t come to that,” Lydia argued, but the sound of the gunfire overhead was diminishing her hopes of getting out any time soon. She just hoped Spencer didn’t know what was going on.

At the sound of Cyrus’s voice, the two girls stepped away from one another, trying to blend in with the crowd.

“Alright! Move quietly! Quickly, go to the left! Everybody stay together!” he ordered, pushing his way through the room. “Children, listen to your parents. Have faith.”

“Where did these guns come from?” Emily whispered hurriedly and Lydia glanced around her to see what she was looking at.

Wooden crates lined the walls, each labelled as bullets or magazines. Leaning into the corners were more machine guns. Buckets of them.

“I thought Garcia checked with the state police to see if they were involved in…” Lydia trailed off, not sure how to frame the inquiry, but luckily Emily was on the same page.

“Someone lied to us. You don’t just lose track of these weapons, not when you’re already watching this group.”

“At least the raid is unrelated to the FBI,” Lydia reasoned. “Our cover is still intact. But you’re right… someone from the Colorado government just ruined their career. Once we’re back in Quantico, Hotch is going to lose his shit.”

Lunde approached the two of them once more. “This is ridiculous,” she sneered.

“It’s okay,” Emily tried again. “Just calm down.”

Cyrus continued to reassure his followers, telling them that God would look out for them as long as they stayed calm.

Once he had disappeared, Nancy was arguing with them once more. “It’s the state police. I’m an officer of the state.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“I can talk to him.”

“No!” Emily rushed after her but Nancy was already halfway through the crowd of people. “You can’t. It’s dangerous. Nancy, stop!”

The woman rushed out of the room and before the two of them could follow, one of the guards blocked their way. The other went after Nancy, but she was booking it back up to the ground level of the chapel.

Shit. This was starting to look… bad.

She stood next to Emily at the front of the group, anxiously waiting for the battle to cease, but the hail of bullets above them never slowed. After a minute or two, Cyrus came stumbling back down the stairs.

“Do not fear! We are on the side of the righteous.”

Behind him was the guard that went after Nancy, but no Nancy herself.

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked him.

“It wasn’t us.”

“What?!” Lydia screeched, then quickly lowered her voice, seeing the attention she had attracted. “You can’t shoot it out with the cops! You have children here!”

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus argued back.

Emily was clearly distraught watching him reload his gun, then take off with the rest of the men to the roof.

“The BAU is coming,” she whispered.

~ ~ ~

“Reid!”

JJ’s voice reached Spencer from the center of the bullpen and he looked up from his email curiously. “Hm?”

Her eyes were on the TV she was in the process of starting up and he noticed that Morgan was also looking up at it intently. It lit up in the middle of a news report.

“...a routine questions and answers meeting by Colorado child services-”

Colorado… that’s where Lydia and Prentiss were…

“-has turned into a violent and deadly standoff between Colorado authorities and a fringe religious group known as the Separtarian Sect.”

Spencer jumped up, joining Morgan and JJ in the middle of the room, his mind still not coming to terms with what was happening.

“JJ,” Morgan breathed, standing up, his eyes not leaving the TV, “That’s not the ranch where Prentiss and Ambers-”

“They’re still inside,” she said, softly.

Spencer’s legs almost gave out underneath him.

“HOTCH!” Morgan screamed.

The unit chief was rushing out a moment later to see what was going on, but Spencer didn’t pay him any attention. His eyes were glued to the screen in front of him. Where’s Lydia? Where’s Lydia? Where’s Lydia???

“...While no one knows for sure how many people are inside, it is believed that at least three of the child service members are still trapped within the compound.”

~ ~ ~

Spencer sat on the couch of the jet, his head in his hands, listening intently to the ongoing news report on Morgan’s laptop.

“...turned deadly when the Colorado state police officers tried to serve a warrant. Colorado Attorney General Jim Wells says the reclusive cult has been the subject of a 6-month weapons investigation.”

“Six months,” Morgan repeated. “We didn’t check?”

“No. We checked,” JJ argued. “I had ATF call Wells. He told ATF there were no pending state investigations. He lied.”

“Why?” Rossi demanded.

“Wells is challenging the governor in the next election. He thought that ATF was about to poach his big election-launching weapons bust,” JJ explained. “Now, it’s clear he didn’t know there were FBI agents there. He just thought the best time to serve a state warrant was when the kids were safe inside the school being interviewed.”

“Agent,” Spencer corrected quietly, his head finally lifting from his own grasp.

“What was that?” JJ asked.

“There aren’t ‘FBI agents’ in there. There’s only one.”

It seemed to slip everyone’s mind that Lydia wasn’t an agent. They looked around nervously, noticing the edge in Spencer’s voice as he corrected them. Hotch was the first one to speak up.

“Ambers may not be an agent, but she’s not a civilian, Reid. She can look out for herself.”

“The FBI only worries about their own,” Spencer hissed.

“She is one of our own,” Morgan fired back. “We’re going to get her out of there, just like Prentiss.”

“Just like all of the hostages,” Hotch continued.

Not wanting to argue more, Spencer nodded at him, then jumped up from his seat and walked to the back of the plane, unable to listen to any more. The media wouldn’t be able to tell him what he wanted to know, anyway.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ called as she approached him at the refreshment table. “I know you’re worried about Lydia, but we need your help on this case. You gotta stay focused, okay?”

“JJ, she’s in the middle of a deadly standoff and she’s still recovering from getting shot last May. Injured tissue takes months to repair itself and it’s going to take even longer for her to regain abdominal strength.”

“I’m sure that she’s safe inside the church with the other hostages.”

“Even if that’s true, I-” He shook his head. “I always seem to be away from her when she needs me most. When that bomb went off in Annandale, when Sonia had a stroke, when Frank got her… Why does it always feel like I can’t reach her?”

JJ sighed, contemplating his question. “I don’t know, Spence. I wish I did.”

~ ~ ~

Once the police had fallen back, Cyrus brought the two of them into a seperate room. Clearly he wasn’t sure how to deal with outsiders being barricaded in with his people. As him and his men tried to assess the damage done to the church and get people back inside, Emily was prepping Lydia for the worst.

“Don’t antagonize them,” she tried to reason. “I know you’re not a fan, but we need to know everything we can. They won’t tell you anything if they don’t think they can trust you.”

“There are two ways to find things out, Em.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was sprinkled with annoyance. Emily knew that Lydia tended to be very blunt. She didn’t need to worry about Cyrus killing Lydia when she was supposed to be helping the team get these people out.

“You keep Cyrus’s favor. But someone here doesn’t believe him, or else we wouldn’t have gotten that phone call. They’re going to seek us out.”

It wasn’t a terrible plan, she realized. One of them learn from the higher ups, the other speak to the underdogs. “You want to play two different sides?”

Lydia nodded. “For the time being.”

“Okay. That means we have to distance ourselves, though. Act unfamiliar with one another.”

“Brief me faster, then.”

She was on top of it from that point on. “The hostage negotiator’s job is to slowly get the women and children out. They want as few innocent people inside when they raid. But if they think anyone inside is in danger, they’ll come in, no matter what. We can speak to them through the mics on the windows, but they have no way of talking to us. So if we need to know anything, they’ll tell us through other means. Look out for signs from them. They’ll be listening to our every word…”

~ ~ ~

Hotch had put Rossi in charge of being the lead negotiator, in the hopes that he was both objective enough to not be blinded by his care for Prentiss and Ambers, but also knew them well enough to predict how they’d react while still inside.

Frankly, Spencer wasn’t sure he could do either. He hoped that Lydia would play it safe, but a part of him knew that she was just too impulsive.

The entire team gathered around as Rossi made his first call to the church, waiting to find out what happened to their friends.

“You killed my mommy and daddy. Are you going to kill me too?”

A kid. A little girl had answered the phone. It wasn’t surprising that Cyrus had set something like this up, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

“No one is going to kill you, honey,” Rossi said calmly.

Then, there was a shift. A new voice. “This is Benjamin Cyrus. Who am I talking to?”

“David Rossi. I’m an FBI agent. We sent the state police away. There’s just us and the local sheriff. All we wanna do is resolve this before anyone else gets hurt.”

“Then leave us alone.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Benjamin. One of the police bled out on the way to the hospital. So let’s just stop this before things get worse. Please, just put down your guns and come out.”

“We’re believers, Dave. We believe God says what he means and means what he says. His laws don’t depend on what state you live in.”

“I have no issue with your beliefs.”

“You don’t, but the state does.”

This was taking too long. Spencer needed to make sure they were okay. He needed to make sure Lydia was okay.

“I can’t answer for other people.”

“Oh, God will answer for everyone in the final battle I’ve foreseen.”

“That’s why I’m here. To make sure that this is not that battle.”

“We shall see.”

“Now, the three child service workers...” 

“One of them is dead.”

Everyone’s heads shot up. Dead. Dead…

“It wasn’t us.”

Rossi leaned away from the phone, trying to take in a deep breath before continuing. “I need a name to inform the family.”

“Her name was Nancy Lunde.”

The relief between them was almost a solid entity, letting their eyelids hang heavy as they realized neither of their friends had died. But someone had.

“Okay. Now, please, Benjamin, send out your wounded. I promise you they’ll be well taken care of.”

“With enough supplies we can tend to our own.”

“Okay. I need a few hours to put it together. I’ll bring them up myself at first light.”

With news that supplies was coming, Cyrus hung up the phone and the rest of the team was left to ponder what to do now.

~ ~ ~

Lydia and Emily didn’t know much about their situation until the next morning. Everyone was assembled in the chapel to pray. Cyrus had sent the two of them to the end of a row of chairs, trapped in by the wall. Not that there was any point in running anyway. There were men at all exits, guns at the ready.

A soft knocking came from the church entrance and to Lydia’s surprise, Cyrus opened the door. It was difficult to see at first, with all the armed men surrounding him, but after a moment of discussion, Lydia was able to make out Rossi walking through the front door, a box of bandages in his arms.

Despite everything Emily had told her, Lydia could feel a twist in her heart. The BAU was right outside. Spencer was here.

Dear lord, he was never going to let her leave their apartment again.

Lydia reminded herself to steady her facial expressions. Cyrus had no suspicions of their connection to the FBI yet and she wasn’t about to give him any. She silently prayed that whatever Rossi was bringing in was bugged, so that she wouldn’t have to make sure all the important dialogue happened by a window.

They took his supplies, patted him down, and then Cyrus walked him down the center isle. Lydia couldn’t make out much of their conversation, but it seemed like Rossi was trying to convince Cyrus to let some people go.

Their discussion took all of about 30 seconds, then Cyrus was ushering him back out the door. With Rossi gone, Cyrus started giving instructions to his right hand man, Cole, then indicated for Lydia and Emily to get up.

The two of them exchanged a look before standing and walking to the back of the chapel.

“We’re going to have communion,” Cyrus informed them. “Feel free to stand and watch for the time being.”

They nodded politely, noticing Cole at the front with a jug of wine and stacks of plastic cups. A few of the men went around, passing them out while Cyrus poured each person a sip of wine.

“We are celebrating,” he announced. “Everyone drinks. Everyone rejoices. Because today we are one day closer to being with Him.”

“Look at Jessica’s body language,” Emily whispered. “The way she looks at him.”

Lydia nodded. “She literally worships him. There’s no way she made that 911 call.”

“Trust in God with all your heart. Lean not on your own understandings. Trust in mine.”

As Cyrus kept talking, Kathy stood up and walked over to the row her daughter was sitting in, leaning over her and speaking quietly. Jessica tried multiple times to nod and turn her attention back to Cyrus, but her mother kept talking.

“Look at how she comes between Cyrus and her daughter,” Emily continued. “She’s inserted herself between them.”

“Acknowledge Him in all things and He will guide your way. Drink to acknowledge him and I will guide our way.”

Everyone lifted their cups together and followed Cyrus in raising it to their mouths. Men, women, and children alike drank the entirety of their share and watched him intently.

“We will be with him soon. We have drank the poison together.”

Lydia was almost too distracted by the audience's reactions to comprehend what this meant. Some seemed completely calm, maybe even relieved. While others gasped or looked around wildly. It was easy to see a line between the diehard believers and the… less-so believers.

“Mothers… Fathers… Children… Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we fear no evil. For thou art with us. And God will wipe the tears from their eyes, and there will be no more death nor sorrow nor crying. And there will be no more pain. For all of the former things have passed away.”

Some families grouped together, mothers holding tight to their kids. A few of the loners cried silently while the rest nodded to Cyrus in admiration. It was a wild array of people he’d collected.

“What do we do?” Emily hissed.

Lydia blinked, beginning to realize that the team was probably thinking the same thing. They wanted to save these people. If the bugs were working, they could hear Cyrus announce their imminent death.

“I don’t think he’s telling the truth,” Lydia admitted, looking Emily in the eyes.

She looked frantic. Her instinct to help was kicking in, but there was no way for her to act on it. “What makes you so sure?”

“Look at Cole.” She nodded up to the stage. “He’s writing in a notebook. I think Cyrus told him to make note of the people who had a bad reaction to the news.”

Emily’s gaze followed that of Lydia’s. At that point, both Cole and Cyrus were scanning the crowd. “They’re writing down the names of the people who are crying,” Emily realized.

“It’s a loyalty list,” Lydia finished out. “He wants to know who will follow him to the end.”

“Be still.” Cyrus’s voice broke through their conversation just in time to confirm their theories. “There was no poison. Instead a test of faith. Because your adversary, the Devil, walketh about as a roaring lion! Choosing whom he may devour. Watch each other for signs of weakness. You are your brother’s keeper.”

“What’s he going to do with those that the Devil has devoured?” Lydia asked slowly, but Emily shook her head, not ready to consider it yet.

~ ~ ~

“You exhausted yet?” Emily asked jokingly as the two of them lay up against the stone walls of the basement. Cyrus had brought the two of them back down there a few hours ago and left them on their own.

“You’ll excuse me if I didn't get much sleep last night,” Lydia shot back. “A cement bomb shelter isn’t exactly my idea of comfort.”

“No kidding.” She was on the opposite wall, one leg propped up on the wooden bench she had taken. “You should try to get some sleep now. We don’t know how long we’ll be here. I’d rather have you well rested when the raid starts.”

“I would try, but-”

They swiftly stopped their discussion as the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls. Cyrus was at the door and he looked pissed.

“Ambers. Stand up.”

Her and Emily shared a curious look, but she did as he said and got up from her bench.

“Lift up your shirt,” he ordered.

“What the hell?” she demanded, but Cyrus had already stepped between her and Emily, reaching for the hem of her shirt and pulling it up above her waist. “Hey! what are you-?”

“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled. “Child interviewers don’t often get shot, do they?”

Lydia glanced down nervously at the bullet wound on her side. She had seen the weird look he gave her when his men had searched her and hit it painfully, but she never would have thought it would lead to blowing her cover.

“I don’t know why you…”

Dropping the front of her shirt, he reached up and grabbed a chunk of her hair, pulling her head back painfully. “We just got word that there was an undercover FBI agent in our midst. Care to explain that?”

Lydia hissed through gritted teeth. “What do you want?”

“You’re not CPS, are you?”

His grip was getting stronger by the minute. She didn’t like the idea of blowing her cover, but he already knew it was one of them. Might as well let him think it was only her.

“No. You were right,” she admitted. “I work for the FBI.”

Now, Lydia didn’t expect him to thank her for her honesty and let her go, but it still came as a shock when he walked off, while still holding her hair. Her feet were immediately yanked out from underneath her, not prepared enough to steady herself, but Cyrus just kept going, not deterred in the slightest by her weight.

Lydia groaned, her hands wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure, but it did very little. Luckily he didn’t take her very far, throwing her down on the ground inside a nearby supply closet.

“I told you not to put me in this position!”

She moved to look up at him, but he was faster, swinging an arm up to her chin and knocking her down onto her back. Upon her next attempt to stand, she received a swift kick in the stomach.

“Ugh.” Her left side lit on fire in an instant and she stayed on the ground, her arms and legs wrapping protectively around her abdomen.

“Get up!” Cyrus sneered.

He reached for one of her arms and pulled her to her feet. Lydia flinched away from him as he threw an arm above his head and brought it down against the side of her face. There was a mirror on the wall behind her which shattered as her right arm moved to steady herself.

“Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil.” As he said this, he held her still against the broken mirror so that she could see herself.

It wasn’t until she physically saw the blood dripping from her nose that she could taste its warmth on the edges of her mouth. The temple that he hit was tinged pink, but from the way it ached, Lydia knew it would be a dark purple by evening. And her right arm, which was still lodged in the remaining pieces of the mirror was staining the white sleeve of her shirt.

She shrieked as he threw her backwards again, running into the shelf of canned goods against the opposite wall.

The BAU is listening, she remembered. And Emily said that if they thought someone was in danger, they’d begin the raid.

They needed to prepare. They hadn’t gotten any of the children out yet. If the team could hear her and decided to come in prematurely, a lot of people would die. Lydia wasn’t about to let that happen.

There was a window towards the back of the closet she was in. She could only hope that Spencer was listening.

“Careful.” Her voice was shaky and unconvincing, but she made sure Cyrus saw the anger in her eyes. This message wasn’t for him. “Hit me too hard and everyone will see the bruises on your knuckles.”

“No one is going to care,” he replied calmly. “You came here to shut us down! I’m protecting them!”

“From me?” Her laugh came out almost maniacal with her bruised stomach and battered jaw. “I’m fine! I got bruises on my knuckles too! I can take it!”

“Pride comes before the fall.”

His next blow sent her into the metal shelf again, this time her skull ricocheting against one of the sides and knocking her to the floor. She was just able to see a few drops of blood land on the ground below her, though she couldn’t identify where exactly on her face they came from, before her arms shakily gave out and her cheek hit the cold cement.

She prayed silently to whoever may be listening that Spencer understood. She really hoped she didn’t face all that torment in vain.

~ ~ ~

“We’ve got audio!” Morgan called from across their tent set up.

Spencer ran as fast as he could to the panel controlling the microphone feedback, throwing on a set of headphones.

Hotch hadn’t let him do anything for the past day, claiming he was the most emotionally involved in the situation. And although he couldn’t argue with that fact, it killed him to sit and listen. Lydia was right there. She was in the building just over that hill. And he wasn’t allowed to see her, talk to her, call her, save her.

When the fact that an FBI agent was in the church hit the news, Spencer felt an anchor drop to the bottom of his stomach. She wasn’t even an agent. There was nothing to suggest Cyrus would target her. But his instincts screamed that Emily wouldn’t be the one in danger.

And unfortunately, he was right. When he set those headphones over his ears, he immediately recognized Lydia’s voice. She was moaning in pain.

“We gotta go in,” Hotch said, but Rossi stopped him from throwing off his headphones.

“We’d be risking the lives of everyone in there.”

“Get up!” Cyrus’s words were followed by a crashing noise, like glass shattering.

Please be okay. Please don’t let it be as bad as it sounds.

“Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil.”

There was more struggling over the line and Spencer threw off his headphones, unable to bear it any more. She was in pain. He knew this would happen.

“How could you let this happen?” he demanded of Hotch. “We have to go in! She’s not-”

“Sh! Sh!” Rossi hissed, one hand over his earpiece, the other between the unit chief and the boy.

Both looked at him confused, but he just kept listening silently.

“Everyone will see the bruises on your knuckles,” he finally recited. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Spencer didn’t answer, but put his headphones back on swiftly.

“-protecting them!”

“From me?” Lydia’s laugh sounded more like a wail over the mic. “I’m fine! I got bruises on my knuckles too! I can take it!”

“She’s antagonizing him!” Morgan exclaimed, frustratedly.

“She’s not talking to him,” Rossi argued.

“Pride comes before the fall.”

There was one more grunt, then the line went quiet. When Spencer finally breathed in again, all eyes were on him.

“She gets bruises on her knuckles when she lets off steam on a case,” he explained quietly. “I always worry for her, but she says she’d rather hurt her hands for a little bit then do something rash or detrimental on a case.”

“So what she’s saying is-”

“Don’t come in,” he finished begrudgingly. “She’s telling us not to go in.”

~ ~ ~

Cole had to basically carry her to one of the upstairs bedrooms. Every breath was agony for her lungs and a violent sting for her nose and mouth. And she figured it was psychosomatic, but her bullet wound hurt as if she’d just been shot yet again.

Who would have thought this whole hostage thing could get ten times worse?

Cole tied her arms to the sides of the bed, though frankly, she didn’t think she’d have the abdominal strength to sit back up anyway. And she didn’t want to try.

Kathy Evanson came by with a washcloth to clean the blood away from her nose, mouth, and temple. She tried to warn Lydia against lying to Cyrus, to which Lydia snapped back, “Do you speak from personal experience?”

Kathy didn’t say another word before standing up and leaving. It was a clear sign that she was hiding something and Lydia could only hope Emily caught onto that too. ‘Cause Lydia… she wasn’t going anywhere fast.

Downstairs, Cyrus had pulled Emily into his office, using some of his only medical supplies to disinfect the tiny abrasions in his hand from his fight with Lydia.

“Did you know she was FBI?” he demanded, as Cole shut the door behind the three of them.

Emily quickly shook her head, but her heart was in her stomach with fear for Lydia. Lydia was strong. She could take a lot. But she was also far too defiant to make this easy on herself. Emily silently wished she’d been smart.

“Nancy told me the woman was a child abuse interview expert from Denver.” Emily hated to put the blame on someone else, but Cyrus couldn’t hurt Nancy anymore. Nancy was gone. Lydia was still here and if Emily made her sound worse, it could fuel Cyrus’s anger towards her. “In the 4 years I worked with her, Nancy had never lied to me before.”

“As far as you know,” Cyrus replied. “Their law says that a 15-year-old girl is a child. Fifty years ago, that same law said a 14-year-old was an adult. Have children changed so much in 50 years?”

No, but people have, Emily thought. It was frustrating. Hotch had chosen Lydia because she was so good at acting calm. At least… in the workplace. She could have any unsub they met trust her entirely, or keep them constantly on their toes. Now, Emily could act, but she couldn’t do that.

If anyone’s cover should have been blown, it should have been hers. Emily knew more about CIRG protocols. She could diffuse a situation. Acting like she wasn’t totally disgusted by Cyrus’s morals was not in her skill set.

“I think it’s a matter of trust. People have stopped believing that kids can make good decisions, they’ve stopped believing in selfless acts, and they stopped putting their trust and faith into God.”

Her appeal seemed to work. Cyrus looked intrigued. She hoped it would hold long enough to make a good argument in her favor. Now was the perfect time to build up Cyrus’s trust with the FBI, because he had brought in the medical supplies Rossi had given them. There was absolutely no way that the BAU wasn’t listening.

“On your next call, you should test them. Test the negotiator. Make him prove that he isn’t a liar.”

“How would you suggest I do that?”

“Ask for the identity of the FBI agent.”

Cole looked unamused. “No. We already know her identity.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but Cyrus beat her to it. “They don’t know that.”

“Yeah. But the FBI would never tell us.”

“They keep asking you to release people,” Emily argued. “Tell them you’ll release a kid and you won’t harm the agent. If they really care about the children, they’ll have to tell you.”

“You’re trying to get us to release a child!” Cole accused.

“It’s one kid! If they don’t hold up on their end of the deal, then you know they can’t be trusted!”

“She has a point,” Cyrus conceded much to Emily’s relief. “What is it, Christopher?”

Emily glanced over her shoulder to find Cole pacing the room.

“Some people have been talking about… leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah.”

Cyrus glanced at his hands. “Wake the baby. Let’s let them meet the orphan that they’ve made.”

~ ~ ~

Cole held onto Lydia’s shoulder’s firmly as he led her back to the chapel. She’d been dozing for most of the day, unable to move from her bed, so her ability to process the situation was hazy.

Cyrus had everyone gathered in the pews. “It has come to my attention that some of our brothers and sisters have lost their faith in God. That they no longer love us. They want to abandon us. So, when I call out your name, please stand.”

Cole left her leaning up against one of the back walls as he went to usher the last of the people in and that’s when Lydia noticed Emily eyeing her, slowly creeping closer and closer while still looking as if she was listening to Cyrus.

“He looks pissed,” Lydia whispered to her when she was close enough. “He’s choosing the people who failed the loyalty test.”

“I’m so sorry,” was all Emily could say.

“Em, I’m okay,” she snapped, more forcefully than she meant. She knew she wasn’t okay. “You need to stay focused and tell me what to do. What does this mean?”

Emily cleared her throat quietly. “He’s releasing these people, because he knows it’s over. He’s getting rid of any possible threat to his mass suicide plan. I’ll try and figure out when it is and get word to the team. Be ready. There’s going to be a raid tonight.”

~ ~ ~

“Drugging the food’s not an option because of the children,” Hotch was saying as they passed around tubs of fried chicken. “We have to go in.”

“Best time to hit ‘em is when they’re least mentally prepared,” Rossi added.

“3 AM.” All eyes turned on Reid. “Biorhythms are at their low point then.”

“Reid, I told you to stay with JJ,” Hotch argued, already on his way to lead Spencer out of the room, but he stood firm.

“Please let me help. I can’t just sit here and pray that she’s going to walk back out of there. I need to do something.”

There was a moment of silent tension between the two of them. Hotch didn’t want him to go. Technically, he shouldn’t let him go. But he didn’t have the time to argue, and Spencer would no doubt be helpful when it came to setting up this plan.

“The plan depends on Ambers and Prentiss separating the diehards from the followers,” Hotch continued, turning back to the group.

“And delaying Cyrus’s diehards from reacting to our assault,” Morgan said.

“No, that’s not my main concern. Ambers and Prentiss know what they need to do. I don’t know how to tell them when we’re coming. This whole thing hinges on them being ready for us at 3 AM.”

“Reid? What the hell are you doing?”

Hotch and Rossi followed Morgan’s gaze to the young genius who was covering the top of one of the food trays with red sharpie.

When he stepped back, the tray read, ‘New owners! New hours! Open ‘til 3 AM!’ The time was underlined multiple times.

“They’ll recognize my writing,” he promised. “Just write this on a few different plates so that there’s a better chance they’re near someone with a sign.”

“Let’s just hope it’s that easy,” Morgan grumbled.

~ ~ ~

Lydia watched curiously as Emily slipped into her room and carefully shut the door. She wasn’t sure how Emily had gotten away from Cyrus’s men, but she was positive something big was happening, else she wouldn’t have taken such a risk.

“3 AM,” she said, reaching the bed and helping Lydia sit up. “We need to get all the women and children down to the basement before 3.”

Lydia had no clue what time it was, only that the sky was completely dark and their time frame was getting shorter. “Find Kathy,” she told Emily. “I’m pretty sure she made that 911 call.”

“Pretty sure?”

“She’s hiding something,” Lydia admitted. “But no, I’m not positive that that’s it.”

The unease was more than a little scary, but there wasn’t much else for them to do. These people wouldn’t trust her or Emily. The only way to save them was to find someone they trusted.

“Stay here. I’ll be back for you before 3.”

“Don’t get caught.”

~ ~ ~

“They’re setting the place to blow up,” Kathy said as she ran into Lydia’s room.

Lydia’s heart fell. “Where’s Emily?” she demanded.

“I told Jessie that Cyrus wanted the two of them to gather the women and children. She’s leading them to the basement now,” she explained, untying the ropes on Lydia’s wrists.

Oh, thank god. Lydia thought for sure when Emily didn’t come back that she’d been caught.

“It’s 2:45. We’ve got to hurry.”

Kathy pulled Lydia along by her arm, Lydia’s other hand wrapped around her waist. Her entire torso burned as she ran down the stairs towards the basement. Almost out. This was almost over.

The sound of gunfire was muted through the walls and Lydia didn’t have time to place where it was coming from.

Get out. Get out.

As they were reaching the door, Lydia could see Emily leading the group into the basement.

“Let’s go! This way!”

“Let’s go, kids!”

“This building’s going to blow up!”

There was shouting in all directions. Lydia’s legs barely held her steady as she ran alongside Kathy. The only thing that was keeping her from passing out was Spencer. He was just outside. She needed to see him.

“Lydia!” She looked up as she passed through the door frame and found herself face to face with Morgan. She didn’t have time to open her mouth before he had pulled her into his shoulder. “I’m going to kill Cyrus.”

“You don’t have long,” she said, almost jokingly, but the timing was badly placed. Not a moment later, the ground and walls began to shake and a deafening sound filled the basement.

Everyone still inside hit the floor, protecting their heads from possible falling debris, but the ceiling was solid. Lydia had been through earthquakes before, and she’d survived an explosion, but this was somehow worse than both. She felt so claustrophobic she didn’t even try to breathe, out of fear she’d find herself unable too. For many seconds, she stayed on the floor, unable to tell if the rumbling had stopped.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” She didn’t realize it was Emily who was talking until Morgan and Rossi were helping her off the ground. “That was the explosives. If Cyrus planned a second round, the basement might crumble too.”

The four of them made a run for the secret door in the school, Lydia now holding onto Rossi for support, so that Derek could lead the group and make sure the rest of the kids got out.

“How’s Spencer?” she asked as they climbed back into the school building.

“I imagine Hotch has got at least seven guys holding him down right now to keep him from running into the rubble to find you. How are you?”

Lydia didn’t want to answer that. Not only was she in a lot of physical pain, but after that explosion went off above her, her heart rate had been soaring.

Everyone’s eyes were on the smoking ruble that was the chapel, amazed by the destruction. Many kids were crying and women were no doubt waiting to see if their husbands had survived. Rossi kept pulling Lydia along, not letting her stop to watch. They walked through the barricade of armed men with ease.

“Lydia! Lydia!”

It was Spencer. He was looking for her. Lydia tried to yell back, but Rossi could tell she didn’t have it in her.

“I’ve got her, Reid!”

Not too long after, she saw her boyfriend pushing through the crowd, his eyes looking around frantically.

When their eyes met, it was like Lydia’s whole world muted to a dull roar. Three days. Three days she’d been trapped in that building, trying to reach the team and getting the shit kicked out of her. Three days she’d been quiet, accepting Cyrus’s blows. All to see him again.

She wanted to run to him, but she just didn’t have it in her. Luckily, he was eager enough for the both of them.

His arms were so tight around her that she felt like all her ribs would break at once and her nose was so deep in the side of his neck that the bruises burned. She couldn’t care less.

He pulled away all too fast and she was about to protest, when she realized why. As she looked up at him, a breeze hit her cheeks, making the wet trails going down her face apparent. She took in shuddering breaths.

She was crying.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say, the back of her hand reaching to wipe them away, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like they were gone. “Sorry, I can’t-”

Before she could finish, he leaned down and kissed her. He kissed her in front of the whole team. In front of everyone. He’d never done that before. PDA was a very rare thing for him. But all her shock died on her lips, suffocating between his own.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely moving an inch away. “I love you so very much. You don’t need to apologize for your tears.”

Such kind and affirming words should have quelled her tears, but she just sobbed harder. “I love you too. Please don’t ever leave me.”

Tags: @kris-stuff​, @wooya1224​, @bispences​, @anotherr-fine-mess​, @eddysocs​

[eternalsehyoon]

Park Jinyoung - Beautiful stranger (part one)

Title: Beautiful Stranger

Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader

Words: 1.6k

Summary: You work in a café and meet a beautiful stranger. Being quite insecure when it comes to feelings, and completely naïve when it comes to guys flirting with you, you don’t really see how much this stranger is into you... until your much too involved best friend convinces you otherwise.

I was cleaning the tables in the tiny café I have been working to for the past three years and a half. As much as I told myself I despised it, it had become a part of my routine and I had built my circle of friends around it. The customers were all usual, except for the few occasional tourists. Which meant I could tell you the names of almost every client who walked in the café, and my coworkers were like my family. My goal was to be a best-selling author, but as you probably know, it's easier said than done. I had been working on my book since I got this crappy job, and even though the novel itself was complete, my perfectionist self couldn't dare to send it to a publishing company.

"Y/N!!" My colleague and, most importantly best friend Kim called. "I know how much you hate tying up your hair, but I swear to God Josie will kill you if she sees you serving food with your hair down." I simply sighed, rolling my eyes. I knew Kim was just checking out on me, but I couldn't help to be a tiny bit annoyed by her attitude. I lazily grabbed an elastic in the front pocket of my dark apron and rapidly tied my long brown hair in a messy bun. "See." I pointed to the top of my head. "Happy, now?"

"Very." She simply stated, with a wide smile plastered on her face. Her title had just bumped from simple waitress to assistant manager and she took her role way too seriously, if you ask me.

Kim made her way from behind the counter to literally five inches away from me in the span of a few seconds. My reflexes made me take a huge step back, but my friend quickly closed the space between us and approached her mouth to my left ear, only to whisper: "By the way, you know, just like that... You've been cleaning this same table for the last thirty minutes." I let out a slight chuckle, covering my mouth with my right hand. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Sure..." She rolled her eyes. "I'm certain it has nothing to do with the handsome young man sitting right there, a couple of tables away." She wasn't subtle at all, since she almost yelled out the last sentence. I looked over at the table in question, and thanked the Lord that the "young man" was wearing a large pair of headphones on his head.

I caught myself staring at him again, noticing every little detail. From the way he was holding his phone with one hand, to the way he was using the other to occasionally sip on his latte. I felt my heart skip a beat, what the hell was happening? His hands were veiny, and his fingers were slightly crooked but had a perfect length. His dark brown hair was falling on his forehead adorably, and I enjoyed the way he would grin every so often while looking down at his phone with a smile so genuine, he almost resembled a small child receiving his first toy.

It was the first time I had seen him, you know, he was far from our typical 60 year old customer. When he had entered the place, he shyly asked for a table for one and I escorted him to my favorite spot; a small round table accompanied by two leather-covered lazy boy type chairs, by the window. The bistro was practically empty, so he was the only customer I could take care of, if you didn't count the two elders who would occasionally ask me to refill their coffees. "M-my name is Y/N and I'll be your waitress today." I stuttered. I handed him our menu, and he simply nodded with a smirk appearing on his lips as a form of "thank you". "I'll be back in a couple of minutes to see if you've made your choice." He looked up at me and that's when I realized he had the most gorgeous dark brown eyes. "Earth to Y/N!!!!" Kim exclaimed, bringing me back to my senses. "Go ask him for his number, for God's sake, or I'll do it for you." She ordered, half-serious. I bursted out laughing. "If you think one second that I've got the guts to even do that, you don't fucking know me, Kim!" She cackled. "Don't make me do it, Y/N." She threatened me jokingly, while making her way to the counter to start a new batch of coffee.

Kim had been working here for the past five years; she could pour a cup of coffee, answer the phone and print receipts all at the same time. It impressed me how determined she was, since she was still a student and didn't plan on working here forever.  I followed her steps, only to print the stranger's receipt, since he had been in here for the past hour and a half. I awkwardly strutted towards the customer, "Here's your receipt, don't hesitate to tell me if you need any-anything else." I placed the piece of paper on the table gently, and as he took it, his hand brushed the top of mine, so I removed it swiftly. My cheeks were burning and I could see that his were turning bright red. It was like we were having a staring contest, and I swore I could get lost in his eyes for hours without even realizing it. His gaze shifted from my eyes, down to my nose and lips and then to the receipt he was holding. "My name is Park Jinyoung, by the way..." He muttered. "Uhm... I don't know why I said that but, yeah..." He took his face between his hands, his elbows leaning on the small round table and looked down. I let out a small giggle, I was sort of relieved that he was nervous also, I mean, that was a good sign, right?

Even when he was completely mortified, Jinyoung was still the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on.  "You can go to the register when you are ready to pay." I mumbled and left.

An excited Kim was waiting for me in the kitchen. She had witnessed this whole scene and was jumping around everywhere, I swore she was going to break something. She took my two hands in hers while she began dancing; I was just standing still, wondering what the hell was going on with this woman.

"He's soooooo into you!" She spoke melodically, almost like she was singing along to her favorite song. I sighed.

"Come on! You have to ask him on a date!" She was enjoying this too much, but that's what best friends are for, I guess. "Oh and I could tag along with Mark! It could be a double date!" She clapped her hands. Kim and Mark were the cutest couple I knew. They had just gotten engaged a few months ago and I always looked up to them as a model for what I want my future relationship to be like. I swore to myself that I would never waste my time with a guy if my eyes didn't sparkle like Kim and Mark's eyes do when they are around each other. That's what true love is, folks.

"Woah there!" I placed my hands on both her cheeks and gently pressed. "You need to calm down, he just told me his name. It's no big deal!"

"Whatever." Kim gave up and rolled her eyes, her sudden change of attitude caught me off-guard. "Just know you're your own cock-blocker." She pointed her index towards me and shrugged.

I was never the one to make the first move with guys. Even though I'm pretty confident most of the time, I always tend to chicken-out when feelings are involved. You could say self-sabotaging was my speciality.

I greeted new clients, placing them strategically all over the dining room. I was taking the order of a young couple while I noticed Jinyoung waiting at the register. My gaze scanned the place all over, Kim seemed nowhere to be seen so I tried my best to serve the couple as fast as I could in order to attempt to speak to Jinyoung for one last time.

Of course, the universe was totally against this plan. The guy, who was the male version of a Karen, wouldn't stop asking questions, and while I knew it was part of my job to answer him, I was completely annoyed. He kept on asking if the menu was vegan, and even though I told him it was not completely, but that we did in fact have some vegan options, he didn't want to cooperate at all. He only kept on yelling that we were all animal killers and left the restaurant, after insulting me.

I murmured a silent "go fuck yourself" to myself, before making my way to the register, noticing that Jinyoung had left the café already.

Just my fricken’ luck.

It was now the end of my shift, so I punched myself out and threw myself, completely exhausted, on one of the colorful bean bags in the break room. I had to wait for Kim, since she was my ride home. I scrolled on instagram for a couple of minutes when suddenly, a wild Kim appeared in the door frame, with the biggest grin on her face. I struggled to get up and out of the bean bag, my best friend laughing out loud at the view.

"I thought you'd want to have this." She handled me what I thought was a piece of paper.

I unfolded the wrinkly paper, soon realizing it was a receipt. Why exactly was she giving this to me?

"Flip it over and read." She ordered in a joyful manner.

It read:

To Y/N, Here's my number: 82-******* Please text me? I mean you don't have to... But I'd really like if you did? Jinyoung

My eyes grew three times their original size and I felt heat rise up my cheeks. So he was actually flirting with me?

******

Tell me if you guys are interested for part 2 and I will post it maybe in later this week!!! Thank you for reading :)

[smorshflaaf]

Wake - NCT Jaehyun x Male Reader

a/n: first time doing this!!! + stan nct + might continue on doing this so heads up if you have any requests!

“Iced Americano, please.” Your eyes transfer their focus from the table you were cleaning to the source of the husky voice. Others would undoubtedly squeal at the sight of a member of one of the most famous boy groups in Korea. However, try as you might to express at the very least shock, you couldn’t help but feel indifferent at the man. He was Jaehyun, a member of NCT, but for you he was just another customer during your night shift at the cafe. A distraction to keep your sleep-deprived self from sleeping at one of the booths. You could feel the drowsiness building up into a yawn, but you immediately scold yourself, resuming on your work.

Finishing up, you deliver the tray to the area behind the counter, setting it on the sink. He seems to be done with his order, as you hear the counter printing the receipt while washing the dishes. Soon after, your ears prick at the sound of heels against wood, and you take a deep breath in preparation of the fangirling you were just about to witness.

“Hey Y/n! He’s here again!” Kyung-hu, your coworker, whisper-shouted in your ear. Where you lacked in response towards the male idol who seemed to frequent your cafe, Kyung-hu made up for it. Excessively, if you say so yourself. You glance to see her scrunched up face, eyes showing her excitement as they shone under the mellow light. She was one of those city girls who blended well with your age group. She knows the trends, dresses up accordingly, has a rigorous skin care routine, and most importantly, likes k-pop. Kyung-hu was someone people wouldn’t expect you were friends with. But, it might be the contrast between your personalities that was also the reason you two got along so well.

“HE GLANCED AT US!” Her enthusiasm rose even more at the interaction you both had with the idol, discreetly pointing at the area where the idol was seated. Indeed, Jaehyung glanced at the both of you, but this was only for a few seconds as he directed his attention back to his cellphone. This shouldn’t mean a lot, but to Kyung-hu it did. “That was the second time we made eye contact. First, when I was taking his order. He must’ve been attracted by my beauty. Who wouldn’t after all?” You could only open your mouth in disbelief as Kyung-hu said this, the corners of your lips turning up at her bold statement as she bats her eyelashes.

“You’re so full of yourself. Don’t you think it’s because he’s waiting for his drink?” You said blatantly, pointing to the espresso machine. Kyung-hu immediately snapped back to her senses, muttering a quick ‘oh shit’ before rushing to get the espresso she prepared. You flick the water off your hands as you finish washing the last plate, smiling as Kyung-hu rushes to finish the order of her beloved idol. Leaning on the sink, you watch with amusement as she finishes the order within 2 minutes. 

“Hey Y/n, it’s done. Serve it now to the king over there.” Kyung-hu dramatically gestured to the drink and to the idol, who was now expecting the beverage to be handed over. You could only sigh once again at her exaggeration, just nodding in compliance. Kyung-hu could have served the drink herself, however the fact that her hands shake uncontrollably whenever Jaehyun visited meant the job was automatically given to you. Getting the wooden tray with the drink on one hand, you made your way to where the idol was seated.

Jaehyun bowed, with you doing the same as you put down the beverage in front of him. “Enjoy.” Smiling, you were just about to leave after fulfilling your duties when curiosity struck you out of nowhere. You couldn’t explain why this was happening and you suddenly wanted to talk to him. Again, you didn’t actually care about the presence of the idol before. Well, not until now. You fiddle with your fingers, and after inhaling, you face Jaehyun with intent enough for him to stare right back at you.

“You seem to come here a lot. May I ask why?” You ask straight up. Jaehyun, who was in the middle of sipping on his drink, raised his eyebrows at your inquiry. Putting down his coffee, he gulped before looking back at you.

“I guess I just find myself drawn to this place.” He shrugged. You nodded in understanding, and by now you should be going back to the counter, but you find yourself standing still in the same spot. Strange. Jaehyun started looking around the cafe. Given that it was 10pm, a time where most people might be drinking soju at some bbq place, only a few customers could be spotted. These same customers were also caught up in their own businesses to be bothered. Deciding that this moment was fine, Jaehyun looked back to meet your eyes.

“Do you have any time to spare? I just want to ask something.” You stare at the idol who was currently inviting you to spend some time with him. You found his offer quite alluring, as such you immediately checked the counter if there was something that needed to be done. Finding only Kyung-hu gasping and clearly pointing at you like you just did the most shocking act, you look back at the male expecting your reply.

“Yeah, sure.” A smile graced Jaehyun’s lips as you sat down across him. “What is it you wanted to ask about?” You find yourself initiating the conversation. You don’t know if it’s because you were actually talking to someone of high stature, but you admit you find yourself a little bit reserved. Placing the tray you were just holding down on the table, you watch as Jaehyun searches for something on his phone. Indicated by his brightened facial expression, Jaehyun finally faces you.

“You see, I kind of want to give a special person a gift.” His words were laced with such admiration that you find yourself amused. It seemed like someone had a thing for somebody, and it was the man in front of you. You nodded in understanding, giving him the signal to continue.

“Sadly, I don’t know what that person likes, and if that person will like my gift.” He shows you his phone, and it was a picture of what seemed to be a bracelet. An expensive one, at that. Placing the phone back in his pocket, he resumes. “What I only know is that that person is quite simple,  might be in college.”

Jaehyun pauses, and smiles at a thought. “-And has a nice smile too.”

Staring and actually talking to him, it was only now you were able to fully digest the facial features this man was gifted with. You could understand why girls from your college would scream at mere pictures of them. His handsomeness was further accentuated by his melodic yet strangely masculine voice. It was hard to explain how attractive he was, and it was harder to explain the knot that was forming in your chest. If there was one thing that was clear to you, whoever this man liked was a lucky one.

Pushing back your unprecedented, small, yet still valid feelings, you clear your throat. Sincerely thinking about your answer, looking up at the hanging light gracing both of you with warm yellow, you put your hands down on the table.

“Well, since you said that person is simple, I think an expensive bracelet wouldn’t be necessary. I think that person would appreciate quality time to destress from school works. You did say that person is in college." You pause for a slight second, distracted by the stare Jaehyun held on you as you spoke. It had this intensity your indifference couldn't handle, as if Jaehyun was trying to remember this moment in its entirety, up to the tiniest detail. Gathering your thoughts, you disregard the heat forming on your cheeks.

"The problem is you need to ask that person out, but I think it would be worth it since you’ll get to see the smile.”

Jaehyun, who was listening intently to your advice, nodded in understanding. “I see. Thank you-? I’m Jaehyun by the way.” He was asking for your name.

“Y/n.”

“What a nice name.”

You reach out for the wooden tray you placed on the table. Standing up, you assume that your work was done. For a brief moment, you subtly wished there would be more moments like this. You dismiss the thought right away. “I’m sorry, but I think I need to go back to work.” 

Hearing this, Jaehyun stands up as well, gathering his belongings. Standing close to him, you become aware of the contrast in both of your heights. You’ve only served his drinks when he’s already seated, after all. Also, Kyung-hu was the one who always took his order, so this fact was made apparent to you only now. He had the perfect 2 inch height advantage over you, and that said something since yours fell somewhere in average. ‘That’ person surely is blessed.

“Ah, I need to go as well.” Jaehyun checks his wristwatch, and looks back at you. A few seconds of silence lay in between the both of you, your feet in place despite having excused yourself to get back to work. You know this. Yet, for some reason, along with the peculiar feeling that formed in your gut, you didn’t move. Jaehyun was seemingly in the same state you were in as well, looking around, thinking of the right words to say like you did right now.

This awkward pause was broken by himself soon enough. He chuckles, reaching for something in his pocket. His smile, made even more charming by his dimples, made itself appear.

“We’ll go out afterwards.” Jaehyun states, holding your hand and placing the bracelet in your palm.

You couldn’t help but smile.

[bffhreprise]

Entry 349

 Stepping out of my car, I wasn’t prepared to find James standing nearby.  When did he get here?  Shouldn’t he be inside, waiting for me while I finish mentally preparing?  With over an hour drive, I had successfully hyped myself up and then delved into worrying.  James wasn’t close enough for me to see his arrival with my ability.

 “Hi, Maple!  Glad to have you here.  I'm James Michael Somerset III.” he told me as I approached, reaching out to shake my hand.

 Hand… great.  I always hated this part of meeting people.  They always wanted our hands to meet without knowing what would be the consequences.  I really, really hope my potential boss hadn’t just left the restroom.

 Firming my resolve, I took his hand and shook it, saying, “Pleased to…”  Nothing.  I wasn’t seeing anything at all from him.  “meet you.” I quickly finished, not wanting to be weird before I was hired.  My own clothes gave me a constant reminder of everything that had happened within about ten feet of them, including James standing here next to me, but touching him gave me zilch.

 “Mind touring the yard as we talk?” asked James, smiling at me.

 I realized that I was still holding his hand, and quickly released it.  “Uh… no.  Not at all.” I told him, hoping I hadn’t already weirded him out.

 “What about my company attracted your interest?” he inquired, walking by my side down a broad sidewalk leading us along the side of  the insanely large mansion

 I purposefully took a couple breaths before answering.  James had us walking at a pace barely slow enough for me to keep pace, but he didn’t really seem to be in a rush.  Adventurers that don’t keep their head on task often made careless mistakes.  There was treasure to be had, so I was going to do this right.  “I first heard about your company through a friend of my mother, Melissa Robertson.  She hired someone named... Emma, I think.” I explained, glancing at him questioningly in hopes that I had the name right.  When he nodded, I continued saying, “Emma really impressed her and mentioned the business has a wonderful educational program as well.”

 “Yes, we have a deal with the Institute of Autodidacticism to provide a fine education in whatever fields interest you.” he agreed.  Then he pointed to large gardens—just visible now that we had turned the first corner—and said, “We also employ an incredible chef for those who reside here.  Marco’s cooking is absolutely incredible.  Emma ensures that he receives the best produce all year round.  In addition to being an active best friend, she's the groundskeeper.”

 “Wow.  Is everyone that busy?” I questioned, certain that maintaining such large gardens in addition to the vast amount of land had to be a full-time job by itself.

 James smiled in amusement, probably used to people being awed by his home.  “Emma makes keeping the grounds in order look easy, but no one is busier than they want, despite how Brandon might complain.  Iris Storm, for example, works part-time and still lives with her parents.  Everyone else just submits what hours they'd like to work, and the schedule is made based off their availability and the availability of work suited to them that week.” he explained, sounding like he had given this explanation numerous times already.

 Was I just blending in to a normal routine for him, simply one more applicant?  “That sounds amazing.  How do the benefits work then?” I questioned, wanting to sound like I wouldn’t jump at an opportunity to work here without knowing what I was getting into.  If I failed to make an impression, there was no hope at landing this job.  Reaching out to any of the plants in the garden was tempting, and not just because they looked absolutely perfect.  I could probably get a glimpse of Emma at work here to see if she actually was enjoying herself.

 “If you work here, your medical needs are fully covered.” he told me, snapping my mind back into focus on him.  “There are also paid vacations, such as an upcoming trip to France.  You'll be quite welcome if you join us.  I'll make sure you can get a passport in time if one's needed.”

 “What!?  Really!?” I asked, unable to comprehend how a new hire would get to join in on a company trip.

 Nodding, he turned to look at me—probably amused that I had stopped in my tracks—and said, “Of course.  Retirement packages are based off what you earn over your time with us, but I assure you they're quite lucrative.  You also will have access to all training utilities here.  Past the bend and far off to the left is an employee gym.”  He gestured in what had to be the direction of the gym.  “There is also a large pond we like to use for swimming if you prefer swimming outdoors.  If you enjoy video games, you'll have access to all games from Global Princess Entertainment.”

 Access to all of Aaliyah’s games would be incredible, but I forced myself not to focus on that part, returning to something else he had said.  “Sorry, but can we go back a minute?” I asked hopefully, continuing when he waited.  “The medical benefits.  Were you saying you cover insurance entirely?”

 “No.  We provide complete medical services that are better than you'll find in general hospitals.” he replied, watching my reaction.

 “But… how does that even work?  I mean… say I was on a job, got injured, and was rushed to a hospital… how would I get help?” I questioned, knowing I probably came across as a crazy lady at this point but unable to help it.

 “We'd cover any medical fees and get our own people involved as soon as possible.” he replied, casually turning and continuing onward.  “Everything is spelled out in the employee contract, but teams of lawyers can get lost in that thing.”

 “Got any of those on hand for employees?” I asked as a joke.

 “Yes, actually.  My secretary covers most legal matters and might as well be a team.” he told me nonchalantly.

 “Sorry.” I told him, having stopped again.  I forced myself to move again as I said, “My dad's not going to believe this.”  Dad had been skeptical of applying here in the first place with the business being so new, but benefits like this sounded amazing.

 “Both of your parents will be welcome to see the place if you do decide to join us.  We just like a little forewarning is all.  Marco is rather particular about having food prepared just right for everyone.” he explained, a hint of amusement coming through when he mentioned Marco.   “How do you feel about magic?”

 “What?” I asked just before tripping over my own two feet.

 He caught me by the arm and easily helped me regain my footing.  Then he said, “Some might say that looking into the past of whatever one touches is magical.  How do you feel about it?”

 “I… umm…” I started unable to speak any more coherently than my thoughts.  James knew… he KNEW!  How!?

 “Watch.” he ordered as he pointed ahead of us.

 A thick mist formed in the air, spelling out “Magic is real.” in the air.  Then the mist erupted into flames, erasing the previous words and forming “and you have it.” instead.  Water appeared from nowhere, attacking the fire and creating an audible sizzling as the fire was quenched.  Reshaping and freezing into place, the water asked “How do you feel about magic?”

 My mind couldn’t wrap around what I had just witnessed.  This was magic!  Wanting to reassure myself that I was awake, I purposefully used my ability to replay what James had done in my mind.  There were no subtle invocations or whispered words that I saw.  Even pointing seemed to be more for my benefit than necessary for a spell.  Was this real?  I desperately wished the spell—possibly spells—had been closer to us.

 “You know what I can do?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

 “Yes.” he told me, his eyes piercing through me as if he was watching my thoughts.

 “How?” I forced myself to ask, despite being uncertain that I’d really want the answer.  James was rich and could use magic.  Was there a limit to what he could do to get answers?

 His smile seemed reassuring as he said, “The background checks we run are far more detailed than most.  I know how crazy that sounds, but it's true.  You'll find many things are different here, such as most of us using magic.  Some of your potential coworkers can transform their bodies.  One needs the blood of others to survive.  Two people living here are impossible for most to kill.  Work for me, and your world will seem to change as you learn more about others who, like you, possess superhuman abilities.”

 “But…” I started, looking down to my hands.  There was no visual clue to what I did, and I was certain I hadn’t told anyone.  How could a background check tell him about my ability?  Yet, he had blocked it.

 “Here.  Touch this.”  he ordered, taking off his watch and handing it to me.

 Grabbing the watch with a bit of trepidation, I watched its history.  Time flowed backward in my mind, revealing me everything that had happened in a small sphere around this watch.  Everyone was smiling whenever they were around James.  He laughed with them, played games with them, and did an impressive amount of work between everything.  Oddly, he’d leave the watch on his desk for a while each day.  Of course, he took the watch off periodically to do other things as well.

 There was a girl with pink skin and brilliant blue hair appearing regularly.  Focusing on those visions, I was stunned to find out that she was his daughter.  James had a pink daughter with the most amazing eyes.  How?  When?  I knew he had gotten married only recently.  He doted on her, reprimanded her, and gave her countless hugs, often with her begging for one thing or another.  They obviously loved one another.  I was a little surprised to see that the watch was only a week old, but one week was enough.

 “Your friends love being around you.” I acknowledged, very doubtful that any group could maintain such perfect acts for an entire week.  “I want to work here.” I decisively stated.

 “Excellent.  You're hired.” he replied with a smile that made my heart miss a beat.  “I'll show you the rest of the grounds, and then we can head inside to introduce you to everyone who's home.  Welcome to Best Friend For Hire!”

[hockeylvr59]

Life Changes Part 4 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all. 

Authors Note: I added 568 words to this one plus the social media posts that accompany it. Next chapter is probably going to be the one that gets the most editing but please let me know what you think about this one as I kept both Leigh’s and Paul’s pov in it. 

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no     Warnings: cursing, angst.    Word Count: 3,361

_________________________________________________________

“Change is never easy.”

Waking up my third day in Arizona I felt nauseous, but it wasn’t bad enough that I needed to bolt for the toilet. Deciding that I needed breakfast before getting some work done, I slipped a sweatshirt on before heading out to Paul’s kitchen. There I found the man himself cooking up some eggs and bacon. The smell made my stomach twist but I fought back the urge to throw up, instead grabbing a bottle of water and murmuring good morning to him.

“Good morning, want some breakfast?” He questioned peering at me over his shoulder while he cooked. When my stomach once again twisted after catching a whiff of the smell, I could only shrug my shoulders, pressing a palm to my stomach.

“My brain says yes, but my stomach is suggesting that maybe I should hold off. I’m managing to hold onto my stomach but just barely,” I admitted, wishing that my body would pull itself together and get over this whole nausea thing because it was really getting old. “So maybe I’ll just have a banana and go get some work done.”

Grabbing a piece of fruit from the bowl on the counter, I tried to ignore the look Paul was giving me as I peeled the banana and then headed back to the guest bedroom.

Staring at the words on my computer screen as I tried to work made my head spin a little, so I put everything to the side, instead just laying back down for a few minutes waiting for my vision to clear. I was almost back asleep when Paul appeared in the doorway declaring that he was going to go work out and then he had some content to film so he would be back around dinner time. Raising my hand in a thumbs up in acknowledgment I rolled back over and laid in bed for a few more minutes, the sound of the front door and Paul leaving following just a few minutes later.

Any additional rest I was attempting was cut off abruptly when the nausea took over and once again sent me bolting for the toilet. Throwing up was really the worst and left me feeling drained and gross. I couldn’t understand why I kept getting sick in the morning, other than that maybe it had something to do with drainage from sleeping and the humidity and air pressure. Deciding to clean up a little, I brushed my teeth and then turned the shower on, letting the heat from the water flow over my skin and the steam fill my lungs as I bathed until it ran cold.

After cleaning up, I redressed and my little bit of self care seemed to settle my stomach enough that I was able to spend a few hours working. Deciding I was done for the day around 1, I padded back out to the empty kitchen, digging through Paul’s cabinets for anything that my stomach might tolerate. He had a few boxes of protein bars and since only one sounded moderately decent, I grabbed two bars from the box and worked on breaking off pieces to eat while I changed to head out to the pool.

With my suit on under shorts and a tank top, I slipped my sunglasses onto my head and sandals onto my feet before pulling my book from my bag and phone from its charger. As I passed through the kitchen I also grabbed a bottle of sunscreen, a bottle of water, and the pool pass and condo key Paul had left behind. Arizona weather was nothing like the east coast this time of year and the sun on my skin felt wonderful. Laying out on a patio chair with my book was the perfect way to spend the rest of the afternoon and I couldn’t help but be jealous of the snowbirds that spend their winters like this while enjoying the more mild summers up north. 

I was still at the pool hours later when Paul found me, appearing over my chair as I lounged watching some of the kids playing before dinner. He was in his own swimsuit and simply plopped down on the chair beside me, setting a fresh bottle of water down for me next to my empty one.

“Glad you’re finally enjoying the pool.” He declared. “Or at least the pool deck…” He clarified because there were no signs that I’d gone into the water, though I definitely had gone for a swim an hour or so earlier.

“A girl’s gotta work on her tan.” I teased and once again I felt his eyes graze over my body before he smirked and slid his sunglasses back on. 

“Yeah...you are pretty ghosty looking.” 

He laughed as I chucked my empty water bottle at him. Moments later some of the kids in the water spotted Paul and called out for him wanting him to come play with them and I raised an eyebrow.

“Go on…you can’t let those kids down…” I teased, grinning over at him. Standing he sighed and turned to go to the pool but before he got two steps he turned and suddenly his hands were reaching for me, tugging me to my feet and then carrying me over to the pool where he promptly dropped me into the water before jumping in himself.

I was sputtering a bit when I came up for air, and spotting him mere feet away I simply shoved him before splashing as much water as I could manage his way. The kids didn’t give me much time to be angry even if I wanted to be (which I really didn’t) as they quickly pulled both of us into their game, tossing a foam football around. Their laughter was probably the best medicine I could ask for and Paul was unsurprisingly a good sport, getting super into the games. Watching him play with these kids only reaffirmed in my mind what a good guy he was and I knew that I was lucky to be in his life, even as just a friend and coworker.

We stayed in the pool for nearly half an hour after the kids went inside for dinner, just swimming lazy laps and watching as the sun started to set. Back inside, Paul set to start dinner while I changed, having picked up steaks and some broccoli to grill at my suggestion. After dinner, he made a fire once again and we spent the evening just relaxing and enjoying the weather outside. My week here was flying by way too quickly and I didn’t want these moments to end. 

______

Paul’s POV

It was eight in the morning and once again the sound of Leigh vomiting served as my alarm clock for the day. She had been in Arizona for four days and had vomited or been nauseous each morning since arriving. Though she kept insisting that it was just stress, my gut was telling me otherwise. 

Pushing myself out of bed, I slid on a pair of sweats before padding to the guest bathroom, again pulling her hair away from her face while she spilled whatever might have been left in her stomach at this point. Squatting down beside her, I rubbed my left hand over her back gently. Once she appeared to be done, I stepped out of the bathroom while she finished cleaning up, grabbed my phone from the bedside table and proceeded into my bathroom pulling up my text conversation with Whits. 

She threw up again.

Brushing my teeth after taking a piss, I splashed some water on my face waiting for a text response.

Seriously? This is what day four?

That I’m aware of…

And she hasn’t been drinking tap water? And she’s fine the rest of the day?

Yeah, still think it’s just a bug? Because if it is I’ve never seen one like it.

No. Gonna get her to see a doctor?

I mean I think I have to. I don’t think she has any clue.

Or she does and is just in denial…

Man…good luck with that. Can’t say I envy you. Definitely sounds like your suspicions may be right though.

Man do I hope I’m wrong…

Within fifteen minutes I’m ready to go for the day and after checking with a buddy who operates a local clinic I’ve got a spot for her in an hour to be seen by a doctor. Convincing her to go is another problem entirely. Peeking into the guest bedroom, I see her curled up in a ball and after tapping on the door I walk in, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. She looks so small like this and my chest clenches at what she’ll have to go through if my suspicions are right. 

“Come on. Get up.” I prod and she groans softly murmuring that she just wants to rest. “You can rest after you see a doctor.” Her face pales at my words and I start to wonder if she actually knows what is going on and is in denial. “Come on. I got you an appointment at a clinic a buddy runs.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just a bug.” She declares attempting to get me to leave her alone.

“If it’s a bug then they can get you something to help your body fight it so you aren’t praying to my commode every morning. Come on. Let’s go. Get dressed.” Part of me feels bad because it’s clear she doesn’t feel well this morning but I’m not sure that continuing this routine is going to do her much good.

Finally, she works herself to her feet and motions for me to leave the room so she can change. Moving to the kitchen I grab one of the protein bars she seems to like so that she can eat it in the car as well as a bottle of water before making myself a quick smoothie so that we can get to the appointment on time.

When she enters the room I take in the dark circles under her eyes and her hair thrown up into a messy ponytail, simple shorts and a t-shirt covering her body. To say she looks tired is an understatement and after grabbing my keys I usher her out the door and into my car. 

Once in the car, she slumps against the window and winces as I start the car and music fills the cab. After quickly reaching to turn it down I back out of my parking spot and drive silently to the clinic, my worry growing the closer we get. The whole point of her coming out here was to get her feeling better and currently she looks worse than when she landed after not sleeping at all. 

Arriving about fifteen minutes before her appointment time I couldn’t help but smile seeing that she had fallen asleep. At this point, any rest that she could get would be to her benefit. Slipping out of the car, I move around to the passenger side door, opening it gently before reaching out to shake her awake softly. As she stirs, her face turns pale and after quickly unbuckling and scrambling out of the car she was puking once more into a bush at the side of the building. A soft groan falls from her mouth when she finally finishes and she gratefully takes the mint I offer shooting me a look that suggests I’m better off not saying anything because she doesn’t want to admit that I was right and she needs to see a doctor.

Guiding her inside I watch as she fills out the paperwork as best she can while feeling sick and not having full mental capabilities. When a nurse calls her back I softly murmur that I will be here when she is done unless she wants me to go with. Standing, she shakes her head, so I sit back in the chair, pulling out my phone to serve as a distraction until she is finished.

******

Every few minutes I find myself glancing at the clock, my knee bouncing as I try and occupy myself while I wait. Multiple other patients come and go as I sit there growing more worried the longer she’s back there. After what feels like forever the door finally opens, but when I glance up its a nurse and not Leigh. Seeing that she has my attention she silently motions for me to follow her and we walk back to an exam room where she knocks softly on the door before opening it and motioning for me to enter.

The sight in front of me immediately breaks my heart, Leigh is clinging to a nurse, her body shaking uncontrollably with sobs. The same instinct that had propelled me forward when she was crying outside of the building in Boston caused me to do the same thing now and seeing me in her periphery the nurse helps slide Leigh from her arms into my chest. Wrapping her up tightly, I rub her back, a litany of curses filling my mind. I wanted to be wrong, I prayed that I was wrong and that my stupid male brain was just missing something. For once being right is the worst feeling in the world. 

Eventually, she stops shaking, though I can feel the moisture of her tears continuing to soak through my shirt. Moving a hand from her back, I rub my fingers over the top of her head before pulling back just enough to wipe at the tears in her eyes. When she finally looks up at me, her mouth opens and then shuts repeatedly, words refusing to form. As more tears fall, I continue to wipe them away not sure what else I could possibly do to comfort her. 

“Why does the universe hate me?” She finally mumbled, the faintness of her voice signaling that she was barely holding herself together. Honestly, I didn’t have an answer for her and so I just shook my head, bending enough to press my mouth to her temple, kissing softly.

“I don’t know.” Swallowing hard, I sighed softly. “But it’s all going to be okay…” Though my words were meant to be comforting, it seemed like they were anything but when she pulled away from me like she’d been burned.

“What do you mean it’s all going to be okay? I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant with my fucking married ex’s child. The same ex who lied to me for the entirety of our relationship. Who made me the other woman. How am I supposed to have a baby?!” Her rant came with a raised voice that was just short of shouting and suddenly she slumped back down into a seated position on the exam table.

“Oh my god…I’m having a baby…” I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind and while I wanted to say something, I was certain that anything leaving my mouth right now would be the wrong thing. “I’m having a baby…what am I gonna do Paul?” Suddenly her eyes were focused on me again and feeling the shift in the air I pulled her back into a hug.

“You’re gonna be a kickass mom and a milf. That’s what.” Her body shook briefly, this time in more of a laughing manner than a sobbing one, and when her eyes met mine again there was a bit more light in them than before and I let out a sigh of relief that my humor had actually helped for once. “You’ve got your parents and sisters, all of your extended family to support you. You know you’ll have the rest of the guys, they all think of you like a sister already. And of course, you have me.” A second after I finished speaking it hit me that maybe she would get the wrong impression by the fact that I separated myself from the rest of the guys, so I opened my mouth again in hopes that she wouldn’t notice. “That fucking moron doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.” The small smile that had started to appear on her face disappeared and I quickly realized it would have been better if I had just stopped and let her dwell on my previous statement. Stupidly mentioning her ex was a mistake and I watched as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, an angry glare flickering in her eyes. 

“I’m not telling him. He doesn’t get to be a part of this.” She paused almost like she was waiting for me to tell her that he deserves to know. When I didn’t, because I had already fucked this up enough, she continued. “You know, considering everything, this was probably the only good thing he ever did for me and I’m not going to let him ruin it by letting him be involved. He chose her, by breaking my heart and lying to me he lost any right he had to ever get to know this baby. This baby is better off with no father than with one who doesn’t see the harm and lying and cheating his way through life.” I couldn’t really fault her for that and instead just nodded rubbing her back again.

“Wanna get out of here?” I questioned certain that this wouldn’t be the last breakdown she had about this but for the moment she had seemed to accept it which is probably better than I would be in her situation. When she responded affirmatively, we left the exam room and checked out of the clinic, a nurse handing her a million and one pamphlets as well as what looked like two prescriptions.

Sliding back into my car I asked if she needed to go get the scripts filled and then if she wanted to go home or wanted to go do something distracting? Her response about the pharmacy was certain but she seemed to waver on the latter, glancing at herself in the mirror and cringing. 

“Why don’t we just go for a drive?” I suggested, causing her to smile a bit brighter from beside me. While we waited at the pharmacy drive thru she pulled up a scenic driving route and after a little prodding I convinced her to try and eat the protein bars and to drink some water knowing that she had to take care of more than just herself now. 

The sun had set before we returned home, having driven the Apache Trail with music blasting over my radio and the brunette beside me singing at the top of her lungs from the passenger seat before we eventually stopped for dinner. Settling onto the couch, Leigh seemed much more relaxed than earlier that day or even since she’d gotten off the plane in Phoenix.

Peeking across the room, Leigh was going through the million photos she’d taken on her phone, trying to decide which ones were the best and worth sharing on social media. I’d already decided what I was uploading: a few scenic shots, a short clip of her performing car karaoke, and a photo of her from behind while she was gawking at the landscape in front of her.

For a few hours, it had seemed like she’d forgotten all about the life-changing news thrown at her that morning. Forgotten that thanks to the idiot who had broken her heart that she was about to become a mother.

A knock at my door around 2 am signaled that the illusion had been broken. After waking up, I motioned her into my room, lifted the covers for her to crawl into bed and then tugged her into my chest and wrapped my arms around her. Feeling her tears against my skin I sighed softly and began running my fingers through her hair just tucking her as close to me as I could.

This was going to be a long and emotional journey for her and it looks like I’m along for the ride and all of these big life changes.

Chapter 4 Social Media:

[lavender-rebellion]

The Reality of Existence  Chapter one

Masterpost

AO3 Link

Ships: Analogical and Royality

Description: "Thomas looked around his living room and felt a stone in his gut. He had four freshly human sides before him. Four human, terrified, grown adult men who had never lived a day in the real world. Four men who didn’t legally exist, permanently in reality. They were in his care now, and that dormant panic made itself known once more.“ A story about learning to live and learning to love. But also about being roommates, first jobs, being an adult, and that friendship really is the strongest force on earth. They all have things to teach and things to learn, but that’s part of being human. (They have to learn how to do that too, though)

TW for a panic attack and what can be seen as depression symptoms.

Thomas closed the door noisily behind him, letting out a heavy sigh and quickly making his way over in front of his TV, the familiar spot lending him some comfort and he could feel most of the anxious energy fall from his shoulders. He took a moment to take in the new perspective of his living room the spot gave him, before rolling his shoulder and finding the threads inside him. Thomas tugged at the one thrumming with more nervous energy than usual, watching Virgil appear on the stairs nearly immediately. Seems he was waiting for him, which was fair considering that Thomas had been thinking of this all day.

“It’s bad.” Virgil agreed quickly, wrapped up tight in his hoodie with darker bags than usual. Thomas still wasn’t sure if they were natural or makeup, and Virgil always dodged the question. Honestly, he didn’t know which one was more troubling, if Virgil apparently hadn’t gotten a good days sleep ever or if he thought it was a good fashion choice. Speaking of bad fashion choices…

“I knew it, they hated it!” He despaired, running a hand through his hair. Virgil nodded solemnly.

“There is an unusual amount of icky-sticky energy in here.” Patton rose up, hands on his hips. “If I didn’t know better I’d think your name was Vicky!”

Thomas let out a small chuckle at the Fairly Odd Parents joke because while it wasn’t Patton’s best it was clear that he was trying to cheer him up. Virgil sent a tense smile at the other side, who seemed to pick up on the mood and clapped his hands together.

“Alright then, what’s the problem, kiddo? I’ve got my listening ears on and I’m ready to ear you out!”

“It’s his new shirt!” Virgil chimed in, gesturing. Patton looked confused.

“My friends hated it!” Thomas clarified, “I looked awful all day, and they kept sneaking looks at it with this look on their face..”

“Thomas have we not already gone over your cognitive distortions? It was only a few months ago, surely you remember?” Logan rose up, flipping through a planner. He looked up to give Thomas a disapproving look, before returning Patton’s wave and sharing a smile with Virgil.

“Well yeah, but this is different.” Thomas insists, feeling a little silly but mostly like he needs to change his name and go into hiding.

“Look, Thomas, there is only one option and you know it. It’s time to move away to a remote village and become a hermit, never showing your face again.” Virgil cut in, chopping his hands down to emphasize his point. He nodded along, crossing his arms and wondering how long it would take to pack up his entire house and buy a new one. One without internet access, he couldn’t ever go online again.

“Uhhhh….” Patton looked up at Virgil dubiously. Logan shot him a similar look.

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, is it not? We can’t just go into hiding over a bad ‘look’.”

“Watch me.”

“What’s wrong with his shirt, again? I’m lost.” Patton asked.

“And why are you reacting so strongly to this, it’s hardly the worst thing you’ve worn out of the house,” Logan added, and Thomas clutched at his chest, offended. What could he possibly be talking about, and why was he so quick to remember it? Was it recent? Had Thomas just been walking out of his house looking like he got dressed in the dark for ages?

“Not helping, Lo!” Virgil ran his hands over his face, dark bags still perfect afterward which lent weight towards the natural theory..what were they arguing about again? “Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is that Thomas looked ridiculous all day and it’s all on camera!”

Oh right, that.

“OH! That’s right, you were filming that collab today weren’t you?” Patton jumped, clapping his hands together again. “How did that go?”

They all looked over at him, disbelieving, before turning back to the conversation.

“Everyone is going to see my stupid shirt and laugh, and screenshots are going to be all over Tumblr and there will be memes-”

“Are you really that worried about a bunch of 13-year-olds making fun of you?” Logan interrupted. Thomas ignored him.

“-and people are going to think I’m silly and then they’re going to realize that I’m a weird 30 year old who records himself talking to himself and posts it on Youtube-”

“Tumblr is not just a bunch of 13-year-olds, there’s plenty of young adults and adult adults. I mean, we’re on Tumblr, and so is Joan.” Virgil argued.

“Plus 13-year-olds are really mean,” Patton whined. Still ignoring them.

“-and they’re going to stop watching my videos which means I’m going to steadily lose money until I’m making none and then I’ll have to get a stuffy desk job-”

“That’s true. It’s like the John Mulaney skit, ‘13-year-olds are the meanest people in the world because they will make fun of you, but in an accurate way’.” Virgil quoted.

Patton gasped, “Oh I love John Mulaney! He is a very funny man.”

“That’s ridiculous, there’s no factual evidence that 13-year-olds are meaner or more observant than any of the ages near them.”

“Clearly you’ve never spoken to a 13-year-old.”

“-and I’ll spend the rest of my days living in a grey, unfulfilling haze where my coworkers make fun of me and send office emails around full of my earliest vines and those awful screenshots-” Ignoring them, just continue ranting.

“We are both sides, I’ve met every 13 year old you have.”

“And you’re still defending them?”

“Yeah, I’m on Virge’s side in this, Logan. 13-year-olds are just cruel.”

“I’m not defending them, I’m simply saying that there’s no logical reason-”

“There’s no logic in pre-teens-”

“Not even a teen- sy bit-”

“-and that will be my life, mockery and the cold confinement of office routine, no friends or boyfriends and I’ll die alone, without even a cat for company because I have this stupid allergy-”

CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP

They all went quiet, echoing the clap and looking over at Roman, who had appeared a second ago while they were bickering.

“How am I supposed to practice my one-man duets if you are all making a racket?” Thomas squinted at the gaudy necklace he was wearing, a giant ruby pendant resting in the center of his chest. While he watched, it flashed a dim red light. Must have been the light catching the gem.

But everyone else glanced at it as well, including Roman. He looked pleasantly surprised.

“I didn’t know it did that. Neat!”

“What on earth are you wearing?” Logan sighed, glaring at the necklace in suspicion.

"Oh, it’s a best friend necklace! The Dragon Witch gave it to me-”

“The Dragon Witch?” Virgil interrupted, looking at him like he was crazy. Roman glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. He placed a hand on his hip and popped it dramatically.

“Yes, the Dragon Witch. We totally patched things up and are now great friends! Honestly, it was super judgy of me to declare her as evil just because she happens to be a dragon and a witch. She can’t help that! And there are good witches and dragons! Like Sabrina, or the characters from Dragon Tails!” Roman argued, waving his hand around. Patton nodded along, looking proud.

“That is so true! That’s so cool of you, Roman! And may I just say it is be- ruby -ful!” He beamed.

“Ayyyyyyy-” Roman pointed at him, looking delighted. Thomas hid his laugh behind his hand.

“That feels ill-advised,” Logan argued, Virgil gesturing at him in agreement, looking baffled. Personally, Thomas didn’t see the problem with it. But they were once again off track, and Thomas’s problem still hadn’t been solved, so he shrugged and decided that there were no real arguments against Virgil’s idea and that must mean it was fine. He turned and moved to grab his suitcases out of the hall closet.

“Maybe you should evaluate why you hate dragons and/or witches because it’s not her problem that you have a bias.” Roman sassed.

“I have no problem with either of those things, I’m simply saying that prior behavior suggests- Thomas where are you going?” Logan cut off, confused. Thomas blinked and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“Gotta pack, so I can become a hermit.”

Logan sighed and adjusted his glasses. “You are not becoming a hermit.”

“I’m not?” “He’s not?”

Logan glared at Virgil and Patton. “No, you aren’t. Thomas, I know you remember our conversation about cognitive distortions so I’m not going to bother rehashing it, and instead let’s get to the root of this problem. Yes, you may have looked silly today, and your friends may or may not have noticed it. Your outfit will certainly be in the video, and others may or may not make fun of it. But we both know that is where it will end, and that it is a minor problem. So why are you making such a big deal about it?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s not like you to make mountains out of mole-hills.”

It was Thomas’s turn to sigh, body slumping out of its tense position. “You’re right- (“I’m always right.”) - I’m overreacting. I’m just worried about Cartoon Therapy.” He admitted.

“That’s the new script you and Joan are working on, right?” Patton wondered.

“Yes! It’s going to be amazing, you are just going to love the therapist, Pat!” Roman gushed.

“But that’s the thing, what if it isn’t amazing? What if it sucks? I’ve never made such a long scripted episode, what if it gets boring or repetitive? What if people don’t like the new characters? I mean it isn’t like I made you guys up, and I don’t write our scripts from scratch-”

“Take a deep breath, Thomas.” Virgil soothed, looking a little frazzled but much more relaxed compared to earlier. Thomas hadn’t even noticed his anxiety ebb into a dull static. He did as he said, sharing a smile with him at the reference.

“Thanks.” He murmured quietly.

“Give yourself some credit, you’ve created characters people have loved before, in much shorter bits. Take your personification of Sleep, for example. He is well-liked and barely fleshed out. I’m sure characters you can take your time establishing will be just as well received.”

“And if you can’t give yourself credit, give some to Joan. We all know they are a creative genius.” Patton added, speaking softly. “The script will be fine, and the characters will be great. All you can do is give your best try when writing, and watch it come to life.”

“For now, distract yourself and allow yourself to calm down. Put on Parks and Recs! It’ll work out.” Roman suggested. Thomas nodded, feeling much calmer than when he came in. He took another deep breath and grinned at his sides.

“Thanks, guys.”

“It was no problem, I a- shirt you.” Patton shot him finger guns and winked, and then-

Just stood there. Thomas’s brow creased in confusion, watching panic slowly bleed into his expression.

“Pat?”

“I-uh,” The others were looking at him in concern now, “I can’t sink out.”

“What?”

“I can’t sink out.” He stressed, and Logan fidgeted with his glasses.

“How is that possible, Patton-”

“I don’t know!” Patton snapped, looking very upset. “I just know I can’t!”

“I can’t either.” Virgil blurted out, his voice layering.

“This is probably nothing. Lets just all take our own deep breaths, close our eyes and focus on the living room.” Logan said, terse. Thomas watched them all do so, fear rising inside of him at an alarming rate. None of them sunk.

“What’s happening?” He asked. They all looked a little crazed, wide eyes darting around.

“I don’t know, this shouldn’t be possible! What could have-” Logan’s head darted up from where it was buried in his hands. “Your necklace!”

Roman jumped, alarmed at the outburst. A lightbulb went on over Thomas’s head.

“It flashed earlier! When you arrived!”

Roman looked even more alarmed, hands going to the chain and frantically yanking it up over his head, tossing it to the ground. There was a split second of relief on all of their faces before the ruby once again lit up, this time with a blinding red light that filled the entire room, too bright to see through. Thomas could hear the sounds of bodies thumping to the floor and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from his eyes.

Four men were crumpled on the floor (and stairs), but they weren’t the men who were there just a minute ago. They were all dressed like his sides, but it wasn’t his face looking back at him. He could feel his breath hitching in his chest, his lungs empty and his chest burning. He sunk to the floor and curled up, sticking his head between his legs. He could fuzzily recognize this as a panic attack, though he had never had one this severe, and clumsily went through tactics he remembered reading when researching Anxiety. It took him a while, but eventually, he was back to being aware. The men were still on his ground.

In Patton’s place was a man with curly blond hair and a scattering of freckles across his rounder cheeks. He was a bit softer all around, and round glasses lay on the ground next to him. Roman had been replaced with a tanner version of him, a face that was similar to Thomas’s, but his hair was a dark ginger and thicker, his swoop larger than usual. He seemed broader than usual as well, but he was crumpled oddly and Thomas couldn’t be sure. Instead of Virgil, there was a slight man with wild purple hair, lightly curling around his face. It looked like there was a suggestion of freckles on his pale skin as well, but he was too far away and the maybe-freckles were light if they were there at all. His makeup -or not?- was gone, replaced with very real eye bags that were much less severe but still noticeable. And not-Logan was, well, tall. Not giant, but he appeared taller than before, with black hair neatly styled out of his face, which also looked much like Thomas’s own. Actually, they appeared like they could be siblings, and not-Logan looked the most like who he should be. Does that make sense? Thomas didn’t really care, he was still panicking.

Not-Patton looked the least like Thomas, with not-Virgil hovering somewhere between him and not-Roman. There was a strong suggestion of Virgil’s features but they were more…delicate somehow. Like a distant relative of Talyn’s and a less distant relative of his. Patton didn’t look much like him, while Roman could be a cousin and  Logan could be his brother. Because that’s who they were, he knew it and he had to stop lying about it. Those were his sides, only they weren’t very side-like at all.

A low groan came from Logan, the body shifting on the floor and pushing up into a sitting position. Thomas froze, looking at the strange frame which suddenly felt like it was sitting much too close to Thomas’s own. He scooted back, tense. Logan blinked the spots from his eyes as well, before freezing. He was looking straight at Patton. Thomas was sure he was just as startled as he was, but then Logan relaxed and leaned back against the wall.

“Oh good, we’re back.” He hummed quietly to himself.

“Uh, what the fuck ?” Thomas blurted, feeling somehow more confused and nervous. Logan nearly jumped into the air, head whipping around to face him, dark blue eyes blinking once more at him. His brow drew down in confusion.

“Thomas? But how did you- maybe the light….no, because we never appear like this with you around…” He muttered. They were both interrupted by movement on the staircase, Virgil righting himself on the steps, holding his head. His face was scrunched tight in discomfort, and Logan’s attention snapped to him.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked Virgil, lowly. Virgil nodded, eyes clearing the last of the light and locking with the other sides.

“Fine, Lo. We’re back then?” He noticed the tight line of Logan’s mouth and suddenly Thomas was staring into green.  Virgil’s eyes aren’t brown anymore, either, a grey-green color replacing the familiar warmth. They narrowed.

“That’s not right…”

“What is going on?!” Thomas asked forcefully. He doesn’t get an answer, Patton stirring by the curtains interrupting them. He fumbled for his glasses, clumsily shoving them back on his face and opening his eyes.

“Well, that sure was a pain in the neck , very ruby of that Dragon Witch if you ask me.” Patton joked, though it lacked humor. Just like the other’s his body went slack when he noticed the others, but straightened as he immediately took note of Thomas. He absentmindedly noticed that Patton’s eyes were a sky blue. “Why are you in our living room?”

“I-what-” Thomas spluttered. Patton’s attention shifted just as fast as it came, and he let out a little gasp when he noticed Roman’s unconscious form.

“I don’t think he’ll be waking up for a couple of minutes, at least. It appears we woke up based on how close we were to the initial blast.” Logan offered, his eyes darting back to Virgil every so often, who was also watching Roman with concern.

“What happened?” Patton asked, distressed, and Thomas could have laughed.

“That’s what I’ve been fucking asking!” He burst out, earning a startled expression from Patton.

“Language.”

“That is the least of our problems, Patton! You all knocked out and you aren’t you and you’re still in my living room and no one is telling me what’s going on so take your language and shove it. ” He snapped, and his sides reeled back in shock. He felt a little hysterical, he might laugh anyway. It was either that or scream, because one of them was climbing up his throat.

“We don’t know what is going on, any more than you do,” Logan said.

“But, you- you look!”

“This is how we appear in the Mind Space. When you manifested us for the first time you did so with an image in your mind, so that’s how we appeared.” Virgil explained carefully, looking wary after Thomas’s outburst. “In fact, we look like the short’s characters you imagined us as, so while some features you seemed aware we had, like glasses, the rest of it wasn’t originally us.”

What? “So I decided your faces and clothes and personalities, and forced it on you?”

“Not quite. Admittedly, we dressed very similarly before manifestation, and our personalities have been ours since we started existing. You’ve always been aware of those things, just like you’ve always known our functions and of our existence.” Logan corrected.

Patton piped up, though he wasn’t meeting Thomas’s eyes. “It’s just part of being a manifester, kiddo. Well, we assume so, there isn’t exactly a guidebook on it.”

He suddenly felt bad about his outburst, the metaphorical wind leaving his metaphorical sails. “I’m sorry, Patton, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. At any of you.”

“It’s fine! We’re all freaking out, I can understand your reaction.” He was warmer this time, and Thomas sighed.

Roman let out a dramatic groan and made to sit up against the TV stand, body swaying unsteadily as he adjusted to being conscious. These eyes were familiar and comforting, even squinting suspiciously at him. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Patton tapped the ground to get his attention and quietly started filling him in on what little had happened, while Logan started looking around the living room.

“Earlier, you said we were still in your living room,” Virgil commented, watching Logan. He nodded, and Logan mirrored it.

“He’s right, this isn’t our living room. The pictures are wrong, and things are displaced. Like, look, your blankets are not on the couch, and my book and our tea are missing from the table.” He pointed out, and the other three glanced around.

“We didn’t sink out.” Patton devastated.

“And we’re in our real forms, which shouldn’t just happen out of the Mind Space,” Virgil added, grave.

“Something is very wrong.” Roman finished.

“Nothing would be wrong if you hadn’t worn a necklace from the Dragon Witch.” Logan pointed out, edgy. Roman looked a mix between guilty, stricken, and offended, and it twisted his face into something that could have been funny outside of the circumstances. Thomas still wanted to laugh, but that might be the shock setting in. Was this shock? He thought for a second and decided it didn’t really matter. But maybe he should get a blanket?

As the sides began some tense arguing, he spotted his phone lying where he dropped it in his panic attack and realized what would help even more than a blanket. He grabbed it and opened up the call feature. (When was the last time he did that, honestly?)

“It was a gift given of good will, I had to wear it! How could I have known she would do this?”

“Maybe because she was the Dragon Witch ?!”

“Listen, just because she’s the only female in the Mind Space doesn’t mean she has to be the villain!”

“No, she’s the villain because she’s evil! ” Virgil argued.

“He has a point though. Why is the only woman in our realm a villain?” Patton offered, hesitant.

“Roman created her. And he accepted the necklace that got us into this mess!”

“Are you saying this is my fault, Virgil?”

“I’m not not saying that.”

“Virgil!”

“What, Patton? I’m not wrong.”

“But you shouldn’t say it..”

“Patton!”

Thomas hung up and clapped to get their attention. They went quiet once more. “Joan is on their way. Maybe they’ll have some ideas on what’s going on.” And they can tell me I’m not going crazy, he thought, but maybe that was preferable to this situation.

For the first time in his memory, they all lapsed into uncomfortable silence, Virgil tossing his hood over his head and withdrawing into himself while Patton wrung his hands, Roman sulked, and Logan fumed. He had never seen them like this, never known them to be this upset, especially with each other. Things have gotten tense, people have gotten upset or argued, but this disconnect? It was new and somewhat frightening. Minutes passed like snails, slow and dragging, leaving a film behind. Maybe that was the shock.

Finally, a knock on the door drew them out of their heads, and Thomas got up to let them in. They were in their pajamas, and it was only then he thought to check the time. Midnight.

“I’m sorry for dragging you out this late.” He said automatically, but Joan waved him off.

“It’s clearly important, and what are best friends for if not traveling across town at midnight when something important happens?” Joan joked, but Thomas could only give him a weak smile. “You said something happened with the sides?”

He gestured them in, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not good. I was just chatting with them after I got home, everything was normal, and then they couldn’t sink out.”

“They couldn’t leave?”

He shook his head, hovering by the door and speaking quietly. No point in causing the arguing to start back up before it was necessary. “Roman came in wearing this necklace the Dragon Witch gave him-”

“The Dragon Witch?”

“Apparently they made up recently. Today, I think, the others didn’t seem to know about it. Anyway, they figured that was what was preventing them from leaving so Roman took it off. But it let out this bright light, completely blinded us. I heard them all fall and when I could see again they were unconscious and in their real forms.” At their look he tried to explain, feeling jittery and uncomfortable. That was the panic. Shock? “They look different in the Mind Space, they said. They’ve never looked like this outside of it, apparently, they actively control the change. They still can’t sink out, and they keep arguing..”

Joan placed a hand on his arm, seeing him start to panic (had he ever stopped, though?) and Thomas lent into the steadying touch. He smiled at them, thankful. Finally, they moved into the living room, where the sides were waiting. If their new appearances startled them, they didn’t react.

“So you guys are stuck.”

“Understatement of the year,” Virgil grumbled, and Thomas gave him a disapproving look.

“Don’t be mean to Joan. They are just trying to help.”

“Sorry.” He looked guilty, but Joan waved him off.

“Everyone is upset and tense, I understand. But arguing isn’t going to help anything so can we leave that for when this really bad thing isn’t happening?”

They all nodded, and Joan clapped their hands. “Alright. So, once again, you’re stuck. You’ve all attempted to sink out after you woke I’m assuming?”

“Yeah. Before I felt a barrier, almost. I didn’t notice it at first but looking back it was definitely there. But now…now I don’t feel anything at all.” Patton answered, looking down at where his hands were fidgeting in his lap.

“It’s like the Mind Space is just gone.” Virgil agreed. Logan messed with his glasses again, looking agitated.

“But that’s not possible, unless Thomas had something severe happen to his brain or…he wasn’t breathing anymore. Clearly, neither of those things have happened.”

“Yeah I haven’t bonked my head recently, and I’m still kicking. I think?”

“You are,” Joan assured him, seeing the distress in his eyes. “So that means you’ve all lost your connection with the Mind Space, most likely. Can you still conjure things, or access any of your Mind powers?”

They all waved their hands around to no avail, looking crazy. Frustration was clear to read in all of their expressions. Joan grimaced.

“And my shadows are gone,” Virgil said, rubbing his thumb under his eye. “I’ve always had them, I don’t..”

“So, no powers, no shadows, no connection to the Mind.” Joan ticked off. “Forced appearances, as well. Thomas,”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“You once mentioned you could feel the connections to them, like strings tying you together. Are those still there?”

Oh. He reached deep into his chest, where the strings he had used to call Virgil had always lied. There was just empty. He couldn’t recall ever feeling this empty. The tightness in his throat returned, and his face fell. A sob burst from his lips. “No. No, they aren’t there anymore. I can’t feel them, I can’t feel you guys.” Tears welled up in his eyes but he didn’t care, struck by the realization. “It’s all empty. I thought that was shock, but..”

Joan looked upset, and he distantly felt bad about bringing them into this, but now he was crying and he couldn’t stop. He was reeled into an embrace, and he went willingly.

“It might be shock, from having the connection broken,” Joan admitted, before looking over his head. “Do you guys still feel..”

It was clear from how they trailed off that the answer was no. They couldn’t feel Thomas anymore, and that wrung another shaking sob from him. It took him a few minutes to gather composure, but eventually, he straightened from the awkward hunched position he had had to make, making a small wince at the wet spot on Joan’s chest. A glance at the other sides showed that he wasn’t the only one crying though. He wiped his eyes.

“So, you have no connection to the Mind, or Thomas. But you’re still corporeal, I can see and hear you. Maybe….you’ve become real people. Somehow.”

Oh. He had been so wrapped up in what had happened, he never stopped to think about what it meant. The others looked just as gobsmacked.

“That’s impossible, though,” Logan whispered, but it was obvious to himself.

“Let’s test it. Have any of you moved from your spots?”

“I’m just so used to not being able it didn’t even occur to me,” Virgil admitted, getting to his feet. He swayed a bit, but didn’t fall. The rest rose as well. Patton took an unsteady step forward, likely stiff from hours sitting, and when he didn’t hit a barrier he took another. Virgil climbed down the stairs to meet him in the middle, and Roman stepped forward too. Patton’s eyes brightened slightly, and he reached for Roman.

“I wonder…” He grabbed Roman’s arm and pulled him into a hug. Roman gasped, eyes going wide, and when Patton pulled back he gave Roman a wobbly smile, face brighter.

“You felt it, right?” He asked, before gesturing Virgil to come closer and pulling him into a hug as well. Virgil let out the same surprised gasp and gripped Patton tight.

“Everything feels like it’s dialed up to, like, 15. Lo, come feel this!” He held out a hand to Logan, who placed his own on top and wove their fingers together. His eyes widened. Patton released Virgil and moved hesitantly in front of Joan.

“May I?” They nodded and suddenly Joan had an armful of Patton, who was beaming like it was Christmas.

“I can touch you,” Joan exclaimed, looking shocked. While they had always been able to see the sides, they had never been able to touch them before. Their hand had always gone right through them, like ghosts.

Thomas looked around his living room and felt a stone in his gut. He had four freshly human sides before him. Four human, terrified, grown adult men who had never lived a day in the real world.

“Is this permanent, do you think?” He asked.

“I think, Logan said haltingly, unsure, “ That we have to assume it is. Go into this with a ‘worst-case scenario’ mindset.”

Four men who didn’t legally exist, permanently in reality. They were in his care now, and that dormant panic made itself known once more. He couldn’t take care of them. He didn’t have the space, let alone the funds. And again, they didn’t legally exist. And how was he going to explain this? Only Joan and Talyn knew he was a manifester!

He caught Virgil’s eye and could tell he was thinking the same thing, saw him work himself into a similar panic.

“How can we live? We don’t exist in the eyes of the government, we have no papers! And without papers, we can’t get jobs! Where will we live? What will we do?” Virgil echoed his earlier thoughts, and Patton’s face fell. Roman was still quiet, arms wrapped around himself and staring at the ground. Logan looked deep in thought, lips moving silently. The tension in the room was back, and suddenly Thomas felt exhausted down to his bones. He just wanted to sleep, and let everything disappear. Just for a little while.

Joan seemed to pick up on this, and as frazzled as they now looked, standing in the center of Thomas’s living room in their pajamas at nearly 1 am, they once again smiled. “It’s late. Let’s order a pizza, I’m sure we’re all hungry, and then call it a night. We aren’t going to get anywhere tonight. Figure it out tomorrow.”

They all sagged, and while Joan quietly ordered they all moved to sit. The sides collapsed, leaning against each other, on one part of the coach while Joan and Thomas sat on the smaller side. He absently thought how lucky he was his couch was too big, but mostly he thought about how comfortable it was, and once again how much he wanted to sleep. There was quiet while they waited for food, but it was born out of exhaustion instead of anger.

Once they started to eat, however, some energy managed to fill them again, and quiet chatter started up. Roman mentioned quietly to Patton how cool it was to have a full sense of taste, while Joan struck up a conversation with Virgil and Logan on living in the Mind Space. He listened to them talk about the bookcase filled with books Thomas has read, about their rooms and the emotions connected, but only when Thomas was with them or they were feeling heightened. Roman chimed in with talk about his Realm filled with creativity and stories, while Patton mentioned the dog they had conjured and kept for a couple of weeks.

By the time the food was gone Thomas was nodding off, but he managed to get up and gather four sets of pajamas, mismatched and some grabbed simply because he didn’t know what would fit them. Like Virgil, who seemed too small for his pants and instead got a pair of boxers he bought a size too small, and Patton who he had to dig out one of his slightly larger shirts for. He wandered back to the living room on autopilot and took them all up to the spare bedroom.

They took the clothes from him and Patton grabbed a bunch of spare blankets, setting up two beds on the floor. They looked as out of it as him, and the chorus of “Goodnight, Thomas”’s were more mumbles than speech. He closed the door behind him and went back down to Joan, who was dozing on the couch.

“Thank you for coming over.” He said softly, “And thank you even more for being so helpful. I couldn’t have made it through tonight without you, and I’ll never be able to express how much it meant to me.”

“Everything is going to be alright, Thomas.” Joan insisted, and he smiled.

“Yeah, it probably will. But would you do me a favor and spend the night, so I know it’s not all some crazy dream tomorrow when I wake up?”

They took the hand he offered and pulled themselves up, giving him a teasing grin.

“What, you thought I was going to leave? It’s nearly 2 am, you owe me a place to sleep, dude.”

They headed sluggishly to bed, and everything else was tomorrow’s Thomas’s problem.

(tagging @strickenwithclairvoyance because they told me to, and they inspired me. Hope you like it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! (Also bold of you to assume there won’t be Deceit because he wasn’t ejected.))

[roguesandsaviors]

The Past Always Comes Back to Haunt

Fandom: Solace, The Red Road

Characters: Joe Merriweather, Andrea “Andy” Dawkins (OFC), Phillip Kopus

Summary: Andy loves her job at the FBI. She is good at what she does. She keeps the lid shut on the past as much as she can. Even if one Phillip Kopus haunts her dreams. It seems that it isn’t only her dreams that he is going to haunt.

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Cursing, violence, character death

Word count: 3,469

Bingo squares filled: Cop, Unrequited Love, Angst

Author’s Note: The first of many items that will be submitted to the Jason Momoa and Jeffrey Dean Morgan Summer Bingo Challenge. This crosses off several squares for me and was the first idea that came to mind when I began brainstorming. It’s full of angst as a fair warning. The flow was a little choppy but I actually like the way this one came out. At the end of the fic, there is also a little aesthetic/moodboard thing I made. @robinreadsallthefanfiction

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I looked down at my hands. It didn’t register in my mind that the blood that covered them was my own. There was pain but numbness was overwhelming the pain. It was spreading further and further throughout my torso. They said that was common but I never thought that I would be put in that sort of situation. I could vaguely hear what was going on around me but it was muffled at best. There were more gunshots happening around me, though it was dying down. The world slipped a bit as my feet couldn’t stay under me anymore.

“Shit.” Strong hands pulled me back. “Come on Andy. you gotta stay with me. Do you hear me?” Joe’s face came into view. It was just as bad as I thought it was from the horrified look on his face. I did my best to focus on it even if it confirmed to me that I was dying. I wanted to be able to respond to the man but it was incredibly difficult. My body was fading from my control and I was fully aware of what was happening.

“Sorry.” I managed to get out. A pained cry left me as he pressed down on my wound. I could hear him apologizing and reminding me that it was necessary. He was going to try to stop the bleeding but it likely wasn't going to do anything. The medics wouldn’t get here soon enough. He refused to accept it even though I already had. This was it for me.

“No. No you don’t get to go like this. I need you around Andy. Sweetheart…” The word was odd coming from his mouth and broke through the muffled noises. He hadn’t said that to me before. “I’m not ready to let you go.” It was the last thing I heard.

**********************

Staring at the building, I was nervous. This was a huge change for me. Out of the mountains and into the city, out of the mess with family and friends into a government agency. These were massive changes, turning my life onto it’s head. I had wished my mom and dad goodbye of course, when I had left for the academy and let a few of my coworkers know. They had to know since I would be leaving. But I hadn’t told anyone else. I had just upped and left without a word to anyone else. It had been easier that way. No one would try to stop me, talk me out of the decision, guilt me out of it because they felt betrayed. It had been a hard thing to do. Especially leaving Phillip behind. Phillip, my best friend since elementary school. We had done practically everything together. We had been attached at the hip, even when his father had come into the picture. He had more or less lived at my house for close to two years when we were in middle school. 

Up until high school. That was when things began to change. I developed what I had hoped was a passing crush initially. He was my best friend. That was typical right? Most girls who had close guy friends ended up developing crushes. They went away though. He never looked at me lie that though. Never once. His eyes had been solely focused on one or two girls. Then came the mess of what he had become involved with. Things began to really change then. I never said a word but I didn’t agree with what he was doing, the mess that his father had involved him in. Even so, I kept my mouth shut and only voiced my concerns for his safety. 

We steadily grew apart despite my best efforts. I didn’t want to be involved in what he was involved with, which just made it harder to spend time with him. Not only that, but he was high more times than he wasn’t. Those were the times that it wasn’t enjoyable to be around him. It didn’t seem to bother him that I was pulling away though. Not as much as it did me. He occasionally made an effort but they become few and far between. He never let me date though. I tried once or twice just to see if I could get over the crush that I was stuck with. It never worked out. Phillip chased away the two boys that I had tried to see. 

After high school, it all spiralled out of control. He went  off while I stuck around. I couldn’t keep him out of trouble and our friendship didn’t seem to mean all that much to him anymore. That never dulled the feelings I had for him unfortunately. While he was doing his thing, I ended up with a job at the police station. It started off as secretary work before they put me through the academy for a year. I had wanted to make a difference, help instead of harm my community, help others that couldn’t help themselves. What I didn’t expect was the job to be a perfect stepping stone to get into the Bureau academy.

Phillip had just returned from Florida and his stint in prison. From my understanding, it had been a mess, related to things that I hadn’t thought that he was involved with. Nothing could be done about that from my end though. It wasn’t my business and despite the flame that I held for him, it was no longer my problem. I did my best to avoid running into him. It would have been awkward and uncomfortable. If he knew what was I going to do, he wouldn’t be happy. That disappointment and hurt would have bothered me, a fact that was ridiculous in and of itself. 

I had gotten through the academy with relative ease. My mind had been set and I had implemented a hard workout regime prior to my acceptance. My coworkers were more than happy to help out, keeping me on track. They were just as excited as I was to see me go.   

Now I was standing here, in front of the building in New York, trying to work up the courage that I needed to head in and meet my new partner. Supposedly he was a veteran, someone who had accolades for the various successes he had already accomplished on the job. That was a comforting thought as much as it made me nervous. 

“Building’s not going to move anywhere.” I, embarrassingly enough, flinched agt the sound of the voice that came from behind me. I turned around and of course it had to be my partner, Joe Merriweather. He was tall and lean, with a salt and pepper beard that suited the angles of his face. The suit hung off his frame a bit but it just accented how lean he was. I gave him a sheepish smile.

“No, I would hope that it wouldn’t.” I held out my hand. “Andrea Dawkins, Andy. You must be my partner.” He shook my hand, an amused smile on his face. He clearly knew who I was. There probably weren’t too many people that stood in front of the building and gawked. 

“Heard I was getting a rookie today. Nice to meet you Andy. Joe Merriweather.” I nodded. “ No need to be nervous. Com on, I’ll show you around.” He led me inside, not mentioning the embarrassing situation. 

I had been worried that I had made such a fool of myself that first day with Joe. Apparently, he hadn’t held it against me. He gave me plenty of opportunities to prove myself in the field and in the office. He was always encouraging without coddling me too much. He was a firm guiding hand that knew when to push and when to step in. He allowed me to work through things on my own where it was allowed and guided me through the others that needed a much more timely response. It was a workflow that had me less nervous and feeling like I was constantly improving. There was a routine there that was easy to fall into. It also created a comrodderie in between Joe and I. Sure partners got close and got together outside of work. That wasn’t unusual. We spent more time together than they did with their families. 

We did a little more together though. Joe was divorced with a kid that his ex had custody. From what I learned, they were on good terms, it just hadn’t worked out between them with his job. I didn’t have anyone in the city that I was close with and I didn’t particularly like to head home to visit my partners. Couple those two things and we ended up spending a decent amount of time together. We got along well and our friendship outside of work didn’t affect work.

Trips to the diner, movie nights, car rides upstate, we kind of did it all. It wasn’t just a fill in the time sort of deal. We had genuine fun. Some of our coworkers joke that we were a couple. I had never gotten that vibe from Joe. he had never said anything or had given any indication that he saw me as anything other than a friend. I wasn’t looking for a relationship either. I wasn’t over Phillip, even if we had never been together and I knew we wouldn’t be. It was that first love sort of deal, tough to let go of those feelings that had been around for so damn long.

Joe never asked why I didn’t go home often or about my love life. We had peppered each other with personal questions once we were comfortable with one another of course. We were partners, we had to know one another. Partners worked better that way. I didn’t want to keep secrets and I had no qualms in explaining Phillip but Joe seemed to sense that it wasn’t a subject that I was all that eager to talk about. He never pushed and never tried to delve deeper into the history there. I was thankful for that. It could have made things awkward. 

We were sharing some pizza, waiting on an observation of two idiots who were a part of an illegal arms trading ring. There was likely some drug stuff going on as well but we didn’t have the exact details. All in all, it was something that we both felt confident about handling. Low level thugs that could and likely would lead to bigger fish was the hope. Every investigation started somewhere. It was always the hope that the small things lead to bigger busts. The top guys could and wouldn’t be caught without guys like the ones we were watching going down first. 

I took a bite of my pizza and almost choked on it when I saw Phillip walk out of the building. God damn it.  Unconsciously, I slid lower into my seat. That was the last thing that I needed. He didn’t need to be recognizing me and blowing our cover. Not that he knew what I was doing for a living these days. I hoped. 

Joe immediately knew something was wrong. I could feel his eyes on me, studying carefully. 

“Which one is it?” There was no room for nonsense in his voice. He wanted answers and he wanted them right now. I swallowed hard and was silent for just a moment longer. 

“Red hanley. It’s Phillip Kopus.” The words felt acidic on my tongue. I hated having to admit it, having to expose Joe to that. It was actually worse than the idea of having to arrest Phillip. Which by itself wasn’t present. But I didn’t want Joe disappointed in me. My stomach churned and I set down the piece of pizza I was working on. I didn’t want to be any part of this but it wasn’t like anything could be done about that feeling. We were here. He was seen. It was our job to arrest those individuals. My hands were tied. 

“That’s Phillip?” Joe sounded a little surprised. I couldn't bring myself to look in his direction. I was too afraid to see the disappointment that I knew would be on his face. I closed my eyes and nodded.

“Yeah. That’s Phillip.” I had never wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole more than I did in that moment. Hell, even Phillip ditching me to go with another girl to a school event wasn’t as bad as this. It was just beyond embarrassing. I had wanted so desperately to keep those two parts of my life apart. Especially since those two parts would clash horrifically. There wasn’t a need for them to ever end up meeting. Sure I hadn’t been involved with anything that he was. I had a clean record. That didn’t mean that people didn’t associated me with Phillip back at home. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise though that they did end up meeting up. I knew that Phillip didn’t exactly do things that were legal. He had a laundry list of charges already. I tried to keep tabs every so often even if we had no interactions. It was a peace of mind thing for me. My parents occasionally gave updates too. Judging how Joe reacted, he hadn’t done much digging. I didn’t know whether to be thankful or nervous about that fact. It could really end up going either way. 

I thought that Phillip was done with his father. Apparently, I was wrong. This was not going to be enjoyable in the least. Maybe, if he saw me, it would lessen the chances of shit going wrong. I would have to try and keep things as calm as possible. Something that wasn’t often the case when it came to busts like these. None of these guys liked to go down without a fight. I could have gotten sick at just the thought.

“You know…” I didn’t even want to hear what Joe was going to say and cut him right off. 

“It doesn’t change anything. We have a job to do. These guys have to be stopped.” I kept my voice firm as I spoke. I didn’t think that I would really be able to do it but I had no choice. I didn’t want him thinking that I was absolutely incapable either. A weak spot for the man wouldn’t look good.

“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced. That was the first time that I had ever heard him sound like that when it came to me. It made me more nervous but also more determined. No matter what my feelings were, no matter what I thought of Phillip, and no matter how much I wanted to protect him, I had a job to do. That overrode everything. This had to come first. It was one of the few times in my life that it was the case. I  wasn’t going to lose my job over this. He wasn’t worth it. I repeated that mantra in my head  a few times. Nor was it worth losing Joe. 

We had back up called. We had seen three guys but it was unclear if there were any more. They were still a few minutes out when Joe made the call that we were heading in before they arrived. It didn’t feel right. Maybe that was just because I knew Phillip was in there. I pushed away the concern and the heavy feeling. Joe was sure about it so I had to be too. He moved the car down the street a little bit and we quickly geared up. Our vests went on and guns were loaded. We checked each other before he gave me a nod. There was no point in delaying it anymore. Our back up was probably another ten minutes out. I wished they were closer as we made our way to the door.

I squared up and refocused myself. It was important that I wasn’t distracted. Our lives were on the line. It wasn’t only Phillip in there. There were other guys that would gladly see us dead. One wrong move and one of us could end up shot. That wasn’t anything that I wanted to see. Joe made sure I was set before he opened the door. 

It was quiet as we walked in. Two corners checked and there was no one around. My nerves were running high as we moved through the hallway. Shoulder to shoulder and side by side, we cleared room after room. It was a slow but steady pace. Missing anyone could cause a bullet to end up in our backs. We had to be thorough. We knew we were looking for at least three guys but at this point were expecting there to be a couple more. It kept us cautious. Still no one. It was almost like they had left. They couldn’t have though. We would have seen it. Their cars had been parked in our line of view from where we sat watching the building. They all had to be on the large production floor. Which would be a bitch for us. Bad guys, open space, potentially little cover. It all added up to a disadvantage for us. If it turned into a firefight, the odds weren’t in our favor. 

“You ready?” Joe had his hand on the door. It wasn’t like there was another choice. I let out a slow breath, keeping my gun elevated and steady. I nodded. 

“Let’s go.” He pulled open the door and we instantly moved forward. We caught two guys off guard. Neither of them were Phillip. That meant that he was around and could be watching us. It was a dangerous situation. 

“On the ground!” Of course they didn’t respond and jumped for their weapons. Joe fired off two rounds and I quickly followed suit. They both went down. The others would be warned by our shots, knowing about our presence. The element of surprise was out the window. We quickly found ourselves cover for safety. 

“Good?”

“Good.” Our back up was now less than five minutes away. We might be able to wait it out. That was the hope at least. Joe peeked around the corner of our cover.

“Backup should be here soon. Just gotta hold them off. Stay behind cover and make sure we don’t get flanked.” It was a basic plan but likely one that would keep us alive. I nodded and let out another slow breath. This was where the training kicked in. The rest of the world was shut out and focus was on following through on all shots while maintaining cover. 

“Easy enough.” I peeked around my own corner. Nothing. That meant that we had a couple more moments before things got iffy. It sounded like a couple of men were rushing towards us though. It was tough to tell from just the echoes of feet against the ground but there might be more men than we could really hold off on our own until our backup arrived. Another peek around the corner told me that at least three guys were coming around to my side. Great. That was fantastic.

“Got three over here.”

“Two on my side.” There were only supposed to be two or three guys here. This had turned into seven. Five total were currently against us. With backup still a few minutes out, we had to figure out the best way to survive this.

Shots began to fire. Bullets whizzed over our heads. A couple of them landed on the metal that we were using as cover, thudding loudly. I paused for a minute, trying to time my movements. When it sounded like I had a break in the fire, I leaned out of my cover and shot off a few rounds of my own. I didn’t hear any screams or shouts as I tucked back in. The likelihood of me hitting anything was slim then. I cursed under my breath softly. Joe seemed to have some amount of luck. I reloaded and shifted in my feet just a bit. 

Again, the motion had to be time. THis time the result was one of the guys going down. Joe had taken his two down.

The backup arrived. They were coming in from the other side of the building, behind the criminals. I could hear the door bust in and took that moment to stand up. I checked around the corner of our cover. The move was a mistake.

The pain radiated out from my abdomen. My gun dropped and my hands moved to my stomach. I could see Phillip’s shocked face and the gun dropping from his hands. 

[imagining-sio]

Escapism I

Chapter one: Wlecome to Mount Eaton

I’ve always loved a biker!bucky Au so viola...

Bucky Barnes x reader

——————————————————————————

It was the perfect place to vanish. The whole town was nestled between the mountains at one end, and the lakeside off to the other. The only border was thick dense woodland. One where people who search for Bigfoot would only dream of going.

The town itself was a small four stoplight kind of place. It was the “They kept the old buildings in their original paint because it held charm” kind of place. A far reach from the hustle and bustle of where I once called home. I gripped the steering wheel as I drove down the mountainside. The olive green ford bronco held all the contents I wanted to take with me. All that I couldn’t find myself living without. It was a depressingly small amount. However over the course of my trip across states I had accumulated quite a bit.

I knew what was waiting for me in this sleepy town, as I drive through it I could see a few heads turned, given they had never seen my vehicle before. I could only give a tight lipped smile as I kept driving toward the outskirts of town, near the lakeside.

I pulled up onto the inclined street of my new residence, and was surprised to find a gathering of motorcycles on one side. There was a house on either side. The house accompanied by at least 8 motorcycles was bustling with life. The garage was blaring old classic rock music, it was his kind of music. I felt a chill run up my spine at the thought.

I turned my attention to the small house across the street. I recognized the small sedan from the realtor three weeks ago; back when I was motel hopping. The middle aged woman was busy on her phone glaring in sustain at the neighbors across the street.

I placed my vehicle in park in the driveway, taking a deep inhale before hopping out of my beloved Oliver.

“Miss Y/L/N; so good to see you again! I just came by to drop off your keys to your home.” The woman sauntered up to me as she finished her text.

“Thank you for meeting me. I’m sorry we couldn’t do this earlier. I just want to thank you for letting the movers in when I wasn’t here.” I smiled gratefully, letting my fingers drift over the keys. This was my house. This was to be my home. My new start.

“Oh it’s no trouble dear! You didn’t need to pay me extra for that. I know it’s hard getting your things across state lines at the same time.” She dismissed me with a small chuckle. She clearly liked the extra pay, as in she had only told me now about how it was extra.

“Well thank you again.”

“Just one last thing before you go sweetie. Be careful with your new neighbor. They are not particularly liked round town.”

My brows furrowed, and I peered across her shoulder toward the crowded garage. The music somehow got louder, and was project across the street. Truthfully, any noise complaint could be solved by telling them to turn it down.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Honey, they are a biker gang.” She handed me a card; “This is my husband’s company card, I’ll put in a good word for you to get a security system.”

With that she went back to her luxury sedan and drive off. She didn’t mention that on the house tour, then again they weren’t there. Also that would explain why the house itself was dirt cheap, Apart from lack of curb appeal.

‘Just as long as they don’t come bothering me there won’t be a problem,’ I told myself. I walked up to the porch and unlocked the front door. Apparently my realtor also took up interior decorating. The place was arranged in all the wrong ways, there was barely any life in it. Once I got my stuff settled I would be sure to move it.

I couldn’t beat the backyard view, though. I had a lovely fire pit to stargaze with my telescope. The house was surround by the tall tall trees, and the music from across the street was muffled by the sound of the lake and the trees. A small dock led out far enough to dive right into the waters. Though I doubt, with how frigid the weather is right now, I would do that.

Still; it felt like I belonged here. That was a good omen at least.

I walked back and forth between the trunk of Oliver and my new home, every now and then glancing at my neighbors; intently watching for any movement toward my side of the street. As I went to grab the last box of my belongings, I noticed the garage was dispersing toward the curb.

It was quite the eclectic bunch, they were mostly broad shouldered, well built people all around. They certainly differed in height, ranging from my height, which was about five foot five inches; to the two tallest being about six foot seven. The eight of them planting themselves onto their respective bikes. They all however were giving me a kind smile, and a small wave before they rode off. At first I don’t know how to respond, but I simply just gave a small waving acknowledgment gesture akin to theirs and went on with my business. By this time it was just about sunset.

When I came back out to close Oliver up and place him in the old garage I found a lone figure, most likely my new neighbor; from his detached garage toward his matte black mailbox. He had on a leather jacket, black in color, under it a grey shirt. His pants were fraying at the knee, most likely from overuse.

He had this air about him, a cockiness. Whether it was from the cigarette that dangled between his lips; or the way he dismissively glitter through his mail. Something about him was both intriguing and at the same time, not.

I shut the trunk with a heavy sigh, purging my thoughts, not even sparing a second glance as I went to shut my front door.

—————————-——————————————

It had been two whole months since I moved here. By that time I had grown accustomed to the town, and them to me. The local florist began to supply succulents after I expressed my interest; thus the reason for my increased cactus collection. It also brought him more business with the children round town, or at least those with internet access.

The general store was the hub for everything groceries and town social meetings. The suburbanites would occasionally paruse into town, but only for school functions. Everyone and their mother was so intrigued to find out just why I, a young single woman with no children, had decided to move here. They were also interested about why I moved across the street from the local gang of bikers. They were more adamant about the latter.

Truthfully, I hadn’t had any trouble from my neighbor, or his budding social life. I wasn’t the only other young single woman in town, his nightly company was a clear indication of that fact. A new woman almost every other night. I never told anyone else that, mainly because I expected they already knew.

My job at the bookstore was perfect; everyone in town loved it because it doubled as a coffee shop. When you bought a coffee, you could also take a book off the shelves to read, as long as you left it at the table when you were finished, wed put it back. If you wanted to buy it, you could do that too.

I was probably the youngest employee these people ever had; by the looks of the town, not many young people were looking for a job here. However, the owners, an elderly married couple, happily accepted me. They were like the great aunt and uncle I never had. It was a refreshing spin from my old job, and I could still pursue my hobbies in the lulls between the breakfast and lunch rush.

“Y/N dear, would you mind closing up tonight?” Edna, the owner and coworker piped up from the back.

“Not at all,” I wrote down the order of the tall blonde in front of me, asking myself why someone should name their child Thor. His accent was Norwegian, so I couldn’t really fault them there. Then again, I’m not about to pick a fight with the leather clad lumberjack.

“What book would you like, sir?” I asked, as was routine.

“The Silmarinion if you have it.” He smiled warmly. Couldn’t fault him for having great literary taste either.

“Edna! One coffee with milk; Two lattes, one iced tea, a hot chocolate, and one black coffee to go if you’d please!” I called.

“Oh! Thor’s back?” I’ve never seen a 72 year old move so fast. I chuckled as I went to find the book he requested. I searched through the aisles, with no such luck. I remembered that someone else had asked for the book and they had already left. Perhaps it was on one of the tables outside, it was a bright day and the weather just right. I walked outside and checked the outdoor tables, finding the book instantly.

As I went to reach for the book, the roar of an engine made me jump. I couldn’t understand how a bookstore coffee shop was so close to an auto part store garage that loud, and still have such healthy business. I glared at the storefront, it’s open garage adjacent to our windowed storefront. ‘Barnes & Rogers’ had to be some sort of trademark infringement. The amount of motorcycles outnumbered the automobiles. The music radiators from the shop with a heavy rock and roll base you could feel from across the street.

I could only glare as I went back on with my day. I handed the book in question to the large burly man.

“Here we are.” I said with a smile. He gave a wide smile and a thank you before taking a seat. I went back behind the counter to help place the coffees into the to go bags.

“Y/N would you be a darling and help Thor deliver the drinks to his coworkers.” Edna wrote the respective orders onto the cups before placing them in their carriers; “My husband usually does it but he’s out sick today.”

“Sure, lemme just take the apron off.” I undid the bow around my waist and hung the emerald apron upon a hook.

“Thor honey; Thomas is out today, so Y/N volunteered to help you today.” She hand him one of the carriers. He traded her with the book, giving a grateful and gruff thank you.

“This way, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. It was like he was a big teddy bear disguised as a lumberjack god. He held the door open for me as we walked down the street. It was nice, until I figured out where we were headed.

“So I hear you are the new girl? Yes?” He tried to make polite small talk.

“Yes I am? But you don’t sound like your from around here either?” I shot back playfully. He laughed.

“Indeed I am not, but I like it here. It reminds me of home.” He smiled fondly.

“That’s good.”

“How do you like your new home?”

“I couldn’t ask for better. The house is just the right amount of space for me.”

“And Bucky?”

“Who the hell is bucky?” I asked.

“You haven’t met your neighbor yet?” He quirked a brow. So that was his name. What is it with this town and their oddly named people?

“It appears I have not.” I said dryly, still somewhat grateful I hadn’t.

“Well we’ll soon fix that.” He opened the door for me as we walked into the shop. He ushered me through another door and we were both smack dab in the center of the auto shop.

There was a loft which led to what looked to be the office of the place. Cars were either on jacks high enough for the men to work below them, or being torn apart. Sometimes it was both. A few of the motorcycles were being worked on. And other people were fabricating iron. The sparks flew on the other end of the large shop. I watched as the masked figure welded metal together. The yellow glow making a heavily aura.

“Barnes!” His voice boomed like thunder; “coffee is here!”

“About damn time!” Voices chimed together. I watched as the welder looked up before setting the equipment aside. He removed his gloves and torn off his mask, revealing the head of brunette locks.

Of course my neighbor was the one I was ogling; How else could god make it more awkward for me?

“Who’s the girl?” The first man to approach said slyly. His smile was warm and kind. His hair was clipped close to his head, and a healthy stubble grown along his goatee.

“This is Y/N,” Thor explained, whilst handing the man his drink.

“As in the Shithead’s new cute neighbor he’s too afraid to talk to?” He raised a brow, as well as a smirk.

“Indeed;” Thor nodded with the same expression.

“I’m gonna get some mileage outta this.” He sipped his coffee before turning his attention toward me.

“Hi, I’m Sam Wilson. You can refer to me as the handsome one.” He joked. I chuckled, shaking his hand with a smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

“He isn’t be too bothersome is he?” Another tall blonde walked up, his hair a lot shorter than Thor’s. His white shirt was stained with grease and oil. He had a towel thrown over his shoulder, what he probably used to wipe his hands with. He himself looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place where.

“Not at all.”

“Here I’ll take that.” He gestured to the coffee carrier. I gratefully handed it to him.

“How you liking the house?” He asked, handing out the beverages to their respective owners. My eyes widened at the question, before quickly going into fight or flight mode.

“Excuse me?” I began to pale.

“Oh, sorry! That sounded really weird!” He quickly apologized.

“Well done Rogers.” Sam sipped his coffee to hide his smile.

“Can it Wilson.” He elbowed the man.

“I meant was we were there when you finished moving in. I mean, we’re always at Bucky’s house anyway, so we’re bound to see you on occasion.” He scratched the back of his neck.

Rogers. As in the name of the shop. And whom is a frequent to my mysterious neighbor. The one who is a leader of a biker gang. Who co owns the shop with Rogers. Which I am standing in and handing out coffee to.

Fucking hell. Don’t die just talking to them. Play it off somehow dammit.

“Oh! Right! Yeah, that doesn’t sound so weird after explaining it.” I said with nervous chuckle; “I do love the house, I can’t complain.”

I most definitely could complain, but not in front of them.

“Hey Barnes, come get your shit coffee!” Sam hollered toward my neighbor.

“I’m coming!” He yelled back dismissively ruffling his hair out of his low bun. His long sleeved black shirt stuck to him like a second skin, in which I felt bad for the seams.

“Come meet your neighbor while your at it. How come you never told us she was so cute!” Sam said condescendingly, only adding to the mans annoyance.

“What the hell are you talking about you fu-“ his cut short mid syllable as soon as he locked eyes with me. Me, in my striped three quarter shirt and jeans looking like a French tourist. The only pop of color was a pair of red sneakers due to my job description.

Him, in his taught black shit and dark washed jeans that looked like they were too tight around his thighs. His hair the perfect length to still be short and place in a bun without looking too creepy. The blue eyes that contained more depth than the ocean itself.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” I outstretched my hand.

“Bucky,” he ignored me and walked toward Rogers for his coffee.

“Bucky, manners,” Rogers held his beverage out of reach.

“Screw you Steve; give me my coffee.” He clearly was irritated.

“Manners; then coffee.” The blonde said sternly, holding the cup close to his mouth. The brunette growled, sending goosebumps up my arms.

“Stop acting like you drink coffee Steve, we all know you won’t do it.” The brunette smirked. I guess I know who ordered the hot chocolate.

“My point still stands.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he glared at Steve, who had maneuvered behind me, as he shook my hand.

“It’s nice to be met; I can’t say the same for you at the moment,” I couldn’t stop the sarcasm from spewing out my mouth. A silence fell over the room. The brunette in front of me gave a surprised look, our hands still clasped together. The tension made me start to sweat.

And then the room was filled with laughter once again. It flooded the entire plain.

“I like her,” Sam patted his hand upon my back. Steve at last handed James his coffee, and the man sulked back angrily over to his corner where he resumed welding.

“I think that was the first time I’ve seen Barnes speechless,” Steve spoke with a fond smile.

“Thor! Bring her around more often!,” another man, shorter with spiky hair shouted as he walked away; “wen need someone to keep Barnes’ ego in check!”

“I heard that!”

“Are you always like this?” I asked Steve. He shrugged.

“Pretty much, Besides me or Sam; Buck is in charger of the shop.”

“What he means to say; is that we’re pretty much one big happy family.” Sam three his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m not happy,” The spiky blonde spoke up again.

“Oh my god Clint! We know! You’re never happy until you see your wife and kids every night! Jesus you are whipped, man” Sam and the man Clint walked off, laughing as they did.

I could only glance at the man in the corner I had just met. He barely spoke a word to me, and yet I somehow found out more about him in the time he hadn’t spoke.

I could only watch as he finished the piece he was welding together, sliding his goggles up further upon his forehead. He stared at the piece with great scrutiny, making sure what he had was perfect. The intestity of those blue eyes. It had an effect upon me.

The same way a lamb had when facing a wolf, especially when those big blue eyes were on you.

[inviisiiblelee]

ookay so absolutely no one asked for this post but i’ve been so unreliable lately with literally everything that i figure i can at least explain what’s been going on for the last six months or so. i know i’ve briefly touched on this to others in discord and some of this has been viewable through some of my other posts and all but, here’s a big block of text explaining why i fall in and out of tumblr, discord and everywhere else i exist online

TL;DR?:  I’m depressed, anxious, & or in a panic pretty much all the time, and disability has really effed me over.

I lived in an incredibly quietly abusive home for the last fifteen years of my life. I am just now turned twenty.

when i say this, i don’t mean it in any kind of roundabout way, and it’s really only been in the last year that i realized that this is what i was living. and i will come out and say that i don’t even think my parents realized this was how they were treating me, that this was the kind of household they were building for me. and honestly, it was a way worse experience for me than it was or will be for my younger siblings (i hope).

the fact of the matter is, my biological mother was a drug addicted alcoholic, since the birth of my sister who is only two years younger than me. my mother was not a very good role model mother in really any way, and i really honestly wish i had more to offer than this basic, umbrella-like summary. but it’s so bad that i have almost no memory of what my mother was like, personally. i don’t remember her voice, her face, or any of that. she died of an overdose when i was eleven. It’s been nine years and, really, I have more memories that are worth my time remembering after the fact. i grew to hate my mother with my entire being, and her death wasn’t something i dealt with right.

even now, i haven’t dealt with it well, but i have let go of the anger that really held me back.

since that moment of my life, it seemed like an event that became who i was. i was the kid who’s mom died, i was friendless and depressed, and i acted like everything was fine, and i honestly still do. eventually, of course, things moved on --- my dad found another woman to love, who became the mother i wished i always had. of course, there was a lot of internal conflict as this happened, something that while i was never aware of it, happened no matter what i really believed. evidently, at the end of the day, losing your biological mother is something that really changes you, especially when she went by way of suicide.

my father remarried in 20...14? maybe? i really don’t remember --- my years and months really started running together in my mind, and honestly my memory has never been something to brag about when it comes to my own life. life seemed to be okay but really, there was a lot of conflict between my family and i. my father is a military man, and was heavily heavily abused as a child, and almost killed by his own mom. but he was an abusive father by way of mental and emotional abuse, especially once i entered high school. i was constantly compared to my mother, which i hated because she took her own life, and she was the worst role model of my life. my father had a habit of callling me useless, or telling me i would never amount to anything. in his mind, he was doing me a favor --- trying to make me realize i needed to change. but all he did was instill a hopelessness inside of me that he would never understand or admit to giving me or being part of. 

my self esteem tanked by the time i was a sophomore in school, and my grades began to really see a dip. i was spending less time on my schooling, because i was exploring hobbies that my father didn’t approve of, which meant i was spending more time hiding the things that made me happy than i was studying. school was becoming something i didn’t like as much as i once did --- it was getting so hard to find joy in anything, and i realize now that was the major & chronic depression that i would later be diagnosed with. but all i heard from my parents at that time was that i was sick in the head --- that i would turn out dead like my own mother, a drug addict and homeless and useless. and eventually, a thought hit --- why bother?

when i was in the summer year between my sophomore and junior year of high school, the summer of 2016, i made a plan to take my own life, because i felt like such a burden.

i was not the most aware of what would work --- and i was very against going through something painful --- so i found an amalgamation of every prescription and non-prescription drug in the house. which was quite a lot. and i would siphone pills through the day, slowly, so it was less noticeable.

when my family found them, they refused to believe that i was depressed and suicidal, instead choosing to believe i was selling pills at school, peddling fake drugs (considering there were pre-natals among my stash, which, admittedly, wouldn’t have done much). instead of ever offering and following through with counseling, they asked me one time when i was fourteen and never actually put me into a place. they make the excuse now that it would not have been beneficial if i didn’t want it, but i recall several times speaking to them about getting into counseling and nothing ever coming of it.

the next two years would be a total rollercoaster. at seventeen, a predator was contacting me and trying to get photos, my location, even so much as meeting up with me. my parents put me through hell for talking to the guy --- and now i realize that whether or not i was an older female, i was still under eighteen and being taken advantage of. my principal and secretary of the school got involved, and i became more suicidal than ever. i lost friends due to the state of mind i had.

luckily, i graduated high school and turned eighteen, and this seemed to be the end of my forseeable problems. i had been working through high school, and though my family had forced me to resign from the last workplace due to workplace drama and claiming my coworkers were bad influences, I was searching for jobs and hopeful for getting into college.

i was not the perfect child at home (i rebelled against chores like any kid, and when i worked, i was even less reliable for doing chores because i was never home to cause the mess but somehow it was always my job to clean it up when i had a sister two years younger who was FULLY capable, but thats just another story tbh), but professional help has also made me see that i was not deserving of the kind of punishments my father put me through, including being lectured at about how much of a failure child i was for over three hours almost per night during the summer. i did not experiment with drugs as a high school student, i never attempted to run away or sneak out, i had a few thief instances that never recurred the way my younger sister’s instances were monthly. 

in july, barely a month and a half after graduating and turning eighteen, my parents kicked me out. i had nowhere to go, no money to help me, and no amount of help from them. and yet, i managed to move into a place a few weeks after the news.

it was a huge mistake.

i had found someone on craigslist (BAD IDEA PAST ME) renting out a room in their home. they lived an hour from the nearest bus stop (an hour walking) but close to the downtown area. rent was about half of what i made in a month. and very quickly, there were problems. once i had the place found, i had no other options --- the few other places that were that cheap were no longer available, and my deadline was coming up. the place itself was pretty atrocious --- dirty and gross, BUT i was told it was being fixed over the next month and i thought if i could help out, no problems.  there were cats (i was allergic, though it did eventually seem to fall out from me living there) and even a bird that was loud and annoying. the cons really outweighed any pros, but it had taken a long time to find the place, and i was not sure i would make my deadline before my parents dropped me off at a shelter. plus, i was supposed to be going to school in the next few months for college, with loans and all, and it should have been fine!

just kidding.

i moved in, met the three other roommates, and began the downward spiral. i was almost immediately out of money --- rent was far too much, and i couldn’t buy groceries afterwards. my phone bill lapsed a few times, and i never was able to finish paying off the deposit. my routine became something terrible. i only ate once a day, while at work with my free meal. and on saturday and sunday, which i didn’t work, i only ate a little bit, if one of my friends happened to give me food out of pity, or else i didn’t eat anything. i started stocking up on CLIF bars, because i could eat one and sleep the rest of the day with little issues.

i slept on the floor of the room, miserable, in a panic. the landlord (who also lived in the living room of the place but worked) was horrible. he essentially demanded that i take care of him while he was home, and expected me to just do it because he hadn’t kicked me out yet for not having the deposit paid.

eventually, i had enough. one of the other roommates, his name was Josh, was getting tired of the same treatment. and my final straw was when i found out the landlord searched through my room without asking and while i wasn’t there. so he and i got together, started looking for a place closer to town, and gave him a verbal/written notice of moving out. 

however, this fell through, too. josh lost the money he had for the apartment two weeks before we were supposed to move, and so i had to scramble to find a place. i got lucky --- a really good friend of mine talked to her mom and they took me in when he couldn’t recover the money. i left josh with some of my things until i had a permanent place.

he stole half of all of my belongings, about five hundred dollars worth of miscallaneous stuff.

josh disappeared off the face of the planet, after faking his own death to me via his ex. it got wild, and i almost (and should have) took it to the police to get my things. but because his whereabouts are really unknown to me, it was going to be a way more expensive process than i was into. 

around that same time, my financial aid for school fell through due to some change, and without any cosigner for a loan, i had no option but to drop out -- and still got footed for a bill of $1700. for school i couldn’t and never did attend. 

the following year of this was not that bad --- my friend’s mom moved out of the house and left it to us. it was a really nice, three bed and two baths with a nice kitchen. they bought me a bed and bed frame, as i had previously been sleeping on the couch, without a mattress of any kind (Josh stole it). i was so grateful.

but after a year, too, she had gotten a boyfriend and they were talking about moving to nashville for his job (they’re there now, congrats to them!) and her mom was going to sell the house.

at this point, my family was in some contact with me again --- my mother and i had less issues than i had with my father, and she found out the situation and offered me to come back home. they were having issues with my younger sister, and i think they hoped my newfound independence could rub off. they would charge me no rent.

I agreed, a huge mistake. I know this now --- but at the time, I wanted their approval and wanted nothing more than to live with my family without problems, which is what was promised to me. They acknowledged I was an adult. This was a lie.

once back home, things were supposed to get better. or be better, rather. but it was immediate to me that it was not true --- once again, all of my decisions were being scrutinized by my family. i would work most of the day, and if i didn’t come home and socialize, i was getting long talks about being part of the “family.” i tried to accomodate all of this, and still it was not enough. if i was spending my money on anything they didn’t approve of, i was getting lectured about it. from the months of august 2018 until the end of january 2019, i was miserable, and depressed, and wanted nothing more than to die.

at the end of december, right before christmas, i finally found a counselor. my family had made it a must for me --- if i wanted to continue living there, i had to go to counseling. so i found a place and someone i began to trust. not long after, i started realizing just how bad i felt in life at home, and my counselor (agreeing for the first and last time with my family) mentioned an in-patient therapy place.

SO, in January, I went to an in-patient hospital for three weeks to undergo constant watch, and this would change my life.

the most recent big event in my life had been me breaking up with my girlfriend. some of you may know of her already, known as ruby, pretty prominent in the youtube rp fandom. she was abusive. not only to me but to others, and though i was warned, i dated her, fell in love with her, and she proceeded to make me feel bad for everything i wanted to do or did. so in the months between november and january, i was being put down by not only my family, who were still calling me useless, worthless, ignorant, and made to be my mother, my girlfriend was also making me feel bad for talking to other people, for spending time playing games and having hobbies that didn’t involve her. 

when i went to this hospital, i was under watch 24/7 for three weeks. they took my vitals, watched my every move. and i was supposed to be on track for finding my weaknesses.

This experience was vital for me --- but it also broke me down.

i was suddenly feeling every emotion i ever hid from myself. i felt myself break down and instead of hiding behind the solid walls i used to have, i had nothing to defend myself with. every thought about the family that seemed to tear me down, tore me down all over again. every thought about how my exgirlfriend saw ME as abusive or neglectful for not being awake at midnight to greet her from work had me in tears and believing no one would ever love me. it felt like someone ripped out my heart and threw it down to let everyone who ever wanted to trample it, do so without a fight.

it took three weeks to come back, and i was a broken woman. i had a better knowledge about myself, how my emotions worked and what i needed to do, but i was raw to the world, and my father supposedly understood. but it was clear to me, within the next week, that this was wrong. he wasted no time continuing to tell me that i wasn’t trying hard enough, that i wasn’t putting any effort into my life. that i was content to lay around and was worthless and just like my mother. 

so i left. i called someone i met while i was away, and he helped me move out that day. but my panic was non-stop. i couldn’t work the way i used to --- panic attacks were happening more often, and i was calling out more because of it. i ended up quitting out of fear of being fired, because i couldn’t get up every day anymore and go to work the way i used to.

eventually i moved again --- i found a guy i got along with really well, liked a lot. his family was very generous --- but they eventually kicked me out too. and now, i’m living with an old friend of mine, her family like my second family. but i changed --- i have a whole slew of medicines i’m supposed to take daily in order to function without panic in my daily life. debt’s come back around, and work has become harder to find. i’ve recognized that i have a disability, in the form of major and chronic depression, bipolar, and ptsd from my mother’s death and further abuse. i don’t get job responses the way i once did, and there are days where i stay in bed (on the couch where i live now) all day, panicking about the fact that i’m considered homeless, that i have no job, that i’m losing insurance soon and college is slowly slipping through my fingers. applying for disability guarantees me nothing, and marking myself as disabled, when compared to last year when i didn’t, has resulted in less interest in my resume, whch is great

i’m trying for commissions for art or writing. i’m trying to write a novel to maybe make something of myself. but i don’t know what to do. 

so. if you’ve ever wondered why i don’t stick around all day like i used to, if you ever wonder why you haven’t heard from me in a week or longer, there’s why. 

[majesticmarais]

Here For You | J.M

Requested? Nope (sorry I’ll do a request soon promise but this idea couldn’t wait)

Summary: Y/n starts seeing her dead boyfriend, Jonah, everywhere she goes, and eventually figures out why

Warnings? Uh it’s sad?? And swearing but what else is new, and hella long

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: @whydontwe-fanfics @electricseavey @angelseavey @lovablebesson @averysgarl @the-headass @jjeepersnutss @adorkableavery @samithepixie @allmyloveavery @jonahmaraismakesmyday @ishouldtakeyoutothemoon @ijustreallylovethem @corbynscabbitch @lovableherron @superseavey @dailydoseofherron @faithinwdw @blueeyedbesson @heyowdw @jackaverybabe

A/n: So this is the most excited I’ve been for an imagine in a LONG time, I’ve worked so so hard on this because I wanted to be perfect and it’s one of my favorites. I love it a lot and I hope you guys love it as much as I do and I apologize in advance!!

Work. It seemed to be the same routine every day, or so you thought. Give coffee and pastries to customers, smile and tell them to have a nice day. It was like routine, always the same.

A young couple walked in, probably about 18 years old, and gave you warm smiles as they walked up to order. When they ordered, your heart sank a little, recognizing the boy’s order as what Jonah used to get every time he came.

You forced a smile onto your face and went to make the drinks, your exhale shaky as you grabbed the coffee cups, your hand warming up and tingling as the hot drinks poured in.

Once you handed them their drinks and they paid, you watched them walk off, making their way to the corner table right by the window.

The one you and Jonah used to always sit at.

The small hairs on your arms stood up, your body shuddering despite the fact that you couldn’t peel your eyes away from the couple who sat at a table that held so many memories.

The way her eyes lit up as she threw her head laughing at a joke he made caused your heart to sink to the bottom of your stomach, remembering all the times that you laughed just as hard with Jonah. The sun made their faces glow, his hand holding hers from across the table.

The love the two shared radiated throughout the entire café, a blanket of nostalgia and heartbreak wrapping around you, weighing you down.

You took in a slow, deep breath, trying to push the memories from years ago out of your mind, but the brightness of their eyes had you almost entranced.

You felt relieved when your coworker finally came out from the back room, allowing you to rush back to take a break and collect your rapid thoughts.

You sat on the black folded chair placed on the wall, your elbows resting on your legs with your head in your hands.

“Stop,” you whispered to yourself, fighting the tears threatening to pour down your cheeks.

When you finally calmed down your breathing, you told yourself you were fine, that you’ve been fine, and that it was time to go out and finish your shift. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.

The sight before you when you opened your eyes took your breath away, making you gasp loudly as you grabbed onto the wall as if that was of any use.

Jonah stood before you, standing against the opposite wall, his brown hair perfectly placed as his blue green eyes stared into yours.

You instinctively squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to get the image away as you dragged your feet across the floor, leaving the back room to get back to work.

As you scanned the room at the tables, focusing on the door hoping for new customers and the ringing of the bell to break you from your thoughts and distract you, you saw him. Again.

His plain black t shirt hung perfectly on his body, the jean jacket with roses on the sleeves placed over it. As you stared at him and the blue jeans that covered his legs, you remembered that it was the last thing you saw him in. 3 years prior. The last time you saw him alive. Before the blood, the cuts, the discoloration.

You didn’t even realize someone was in front of you until you felt a nudge at your side, your coworker lifting her eyebrows at you, non verbally telling you to get out of your own world.

“Sorry, bit of a weird day,” you said. That was an understatement.

As you took the customer’s order, your gaze kept going back to Jonah, who stood at the back of the café, no movement other than the blinking of his lively eyes, never breaking contact from yours.

“Go away go away,” you muttered under your breath as you turned around to make the coffee, hoping he would be gone in a few seconds. He needed to be gone.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you turned back around, Jonah having not moved from where he stood moments before. Once your customer was gone, you shut your eyes again, rubbing them with your fists and hitting the front of your forehead with the lam of your hand. What was happening?

Seeing as your boss was on vacation, you told your coworker, who also happened to be your friend, that you weren’t feeling well. She told you she would cover for you and that you looked like you needed to go home.

After thanking her, you put your uniform away and grabbed your phone and yours purse, stopping dead in your tracks when you walked back out, Jonah standing in front of the glass door you were about to leave from, a stoic expression across his face.

You took a deep breath and walked past him, swearing you could smell him as the breeze passed between you. You shook your head and began walking to your apartment that was only a few minutes away.

When you heard footsteps beside you, you saw the all too familiar side profile in your peripheral vision. You continued walking, your steps and his becoming synchronized, somehow.

“You’re not real, you’re not real. Go away,” you whispered to yourself, looking down at your feet as an attempt to avoid the glimpses you caught of your dead boyfriend from the corner of your eye. “I’m walking alone. Straight ahead, by myself.”

Your shaky hands fumbled with your keys, rattling as you shoved it in the door, throwing it open and slamming it behind you the second you entered the apartment, leaning against it with your body.

“I need to sleep. This has to be sleep deprivation. I’m going crazy,” you whispered, realizing how weird it was in itself that you stood there talking to yourself.

You walked into your bedroom, jumping into bed and pulling the covers over your head, praying that this was all a really, really weird dream.

On your day off the following day, you decided to go see the boys at their house since you lived nearby. After losing Jonah, you didn’t see them as often as you were used to. Your grief had originally pushed you away, and years later life just got in the way of how often you saw each other.

You grabbed your shoes and sat on the small bench by your front door to lace them up, suddenly feeling a presence beside you. You lifted your head up, looking straight ahead at the blank cream colored wall, your breathing shallow as you refused to look beside you.

“You can’t be here,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “I’ve been moving on. I have a job, I go to school, I have a life. You can’t be here, you need to go because I need to continue moving on.”

When you opened your eyes again, there was no one beside you. A sigh of relief left your body as you found yourself looking around. Just you and your empty apartment, the deafening silence driving you to rush out to your car, craving the interaction with your friends to pull you out of whatever funk you had found yourself in the midst of.

The boys were excited to see you again, and you were excited to see them, but you couldn’t help but notice the silent presence of Jonah on the couch next to you, his arm draped over the top of the couch. 

How am I seeing this. He’s dead. He’s gone. He’s not here.

As you talked with the boys, Jonah began adding comments as you spoke, making your heart race. His soft voice filling the room, as if he was still here. As if you were hanging out like you all did years ago.

“Shut up,” you said out loud accidentally.

“What?” Zach asked, looking over at you as he furrowed his brows.

“Nothing, just talking to myself,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes at yourself and waving it off it hopes that no one would pay attention to the fact that you told your dead boyfriend to shut up. You were crazy.

You pulled Daniel aside, feeling like you needed to tell him about what was happening. After you lost Jonah, you had become extremely close with Daniel. He was the only person who understood how much it hurt you to lose him, and the two of you spent countless nights talking, crying and grieving together.

“Are you okay? You seem a bit off,” Daniel inquired, sitting next to you on the edge of his bed, feeling it sink down.

“Do you ever....see Jonah?” you asked, realizing how insane you sounded when the words left your mouth.

“I mean, I’ve seen him in dreams,” Daniel shrugged, acting more nonchalant than you expected, his reaction calm and collected.

“But have you ever seen him when you’re awake. Perfectly conscious?” I repeated.

“No, I don’t think so. Why?” he wondered, turning to face me, his blue eyes looking into mine, a look of worry mixed with sympathy filling the ocean patterns.

“I can see him. I’ve been seeing him for two days. He spoke today. He was talking and he stands there and I can see him, Daniel, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I panicked, running my hand through my hair as I put my head in my hands.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I mean, when you lose someone sometimes you get really messed up about it. I’m sure it will go away,” he replied calmly, his hand running up and down your back.

“Why is he touching you like that?” you heard Jonah say, your head shooting up to see him standing in the corner, a smirk playing across his face jokingly.

“I-I hope so. I feel crazy, Danny,” you mumbled.

“You’re okay, Y/n, you’re probably just tired,” he explained, standing up and putting his hand out for you to take, leading you back downstairs where the boys remained.

“Hands off my girl, Seavey,” Jonah called from behind you, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut once again, even though by now you realized that he wasn’t going away that easily.

You sat on your bed, staring blankly ahead of you, trying to ignore Jonah’s aching presence beside you.

“The silent treatment huh?” Jonah asked, laughing slightly as he shook his head at you like he always did, the sound of his laugh making goosebumps dance across your arms and legs. “I thought you would be happy to see me.”

You finally got the courage to look up at him, the low orange light of the room casting a shadow across the grooves in his face. His cheeks and his eyes full of life. His skin smooth, and untouched. The wounds you had seen magically closed up, gone.

“I’ve wished every day since you died that I could see you again. I’ve wanted to hear you, see you, and touch you one more time. To see you here and not be able to hold you is hurting me so bad,” you explained, shaking your head.

“You can touch me,” he told you, taking a step closer.

“You’re not real, Jonah. You died, you’re not real,” you said angrily, frustration overcoming your body.

“I’m as real as you are, Y/n. Touch me,” he whispered.

“I’m crazy. I’m sitting here talking to myself! You aren’t real!”

“Why are you here?!” you screamed once you were met by his silence once again, standing up to be closer to his face, your eyes refusing to meet his.

“I’m here for you, Y/n,” he answered.

“No,” you shook your head, pacing back and forth around the room, “you’re not real. You need to go Jonah, you need to go,” I repeated, my body shaking as I tried to shake out the anxiety.

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. I’m here for you.”

Your eyes glued to your laptop screen, researching extensively about ghosts and spirits, trying to find some way to get rid of the presence that was haunting you.

“Spirit clings to fabric that once belonged to them,” you whispered to yourself, standing up and walking to your closet, pulling out everything you had kept that belonged to Jonah.

“I have to get rid of it. Burn it. Something,” you muttered to yourself, shoving the clothes in a bag as you got ready to take them to Daniel, make him take everything away from you.

As you stood at the front door, Jonah stood next to you, his shadow spread across the hardwood floor as your gaze remained downward.

“I’m sorry we never got our chance, Jo,” you whispered to him, “I wanted to marry you, grow old with you, we had so much we wanted to do, and I’m sorry. I love you so much, you have a part of me and you always will, but I need to move on. I can’t spend my life drowning in the feeling of missing you. I love you so much, Jonah,” you said quietly, your stare never faltering.

“Why are you telling me this?” he wondered.

“So that I can grieve and move on properly, and your soul can be at peace and go back to wherever you came from,” you replied, looking up and facing him, his shoulders moving up and down with each breath that he took.

“I’m fine, Y/n. I’m at peace. I’m here for you,” he repeated.

“Goodbye Jonah,” you said, ignoring his comment as you walked out the front door, running to your car, needing to get rid of his stuff and be freed of whatever was happening.

From when you left your apartment all the way until you got home, you didn’t see him. Maybe you solved it. Maybe he was actually gone now.

It was just because of the memory. The memory brought him back. Getting rid of his stuff might have been the solution.

You walked back into your room, darkness taking over other than the light of your laptop that you had left open, an eerie glow filling the room. You leaned your head against the wall, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath, sadness washing over you. He was gone.

You screamed when you opened your eyes, Jonah standing in front of you.

“Why are you still here? I said goodbye, I got rid of everything!” you exclaimed, an edge growing in your voice as you spoke.

“I’m here for you,” he said, once again.

“You’re not, Jonah! What does that even mean? You died, Jonah. You left me here, you died and you left me alone. You are not here for me!” you screamed, tears finally welling up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I died, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, taking a step closer.

“No! You don’t get to apologize. Dead people don’t apologize. I killed you, Jonah, so no, you don’t get to apologize!” you screamed, falling to the floor as you began to feel dizzy and overwhelmed. “You’re not even real.”

Flashback

“Wine?” Jonah laughed as he watched you walk into the living room, swaying your hips slightly as you placed the bottle down on the wooden coffee table, the glow from the fire light turning Jonah’s skin sun kissed.

“Can’t say no to a convincing pretty face like that,” he winked, taking the bottle and opening it, sipping right from the bottle.

“Wow you’re wild,” you laughed, plopping on the couch beside him as you leaned your head on his shoulder, the fire warming your skin and his.

*

“I’ll be right back,” Jonah called as he made his way to the front door of the cottage you had rented for the weekend, his hand clutching the door handle.

“Where are you going?” you asked, walking over to him, your arms crossed over your chest.

“I just need some air,” he replied, nodding his head quickly.

“Want me to come?” you asked as a yawn took over your body, making him laugh.

“Get some sleep, I’ll join you in a few minutes,” he smiled, earning a nod from you as you walked into the bedroom, crawling under the duvet, sleep washing over you.

*

You woke up to an empty bed, looking at the red numbers on the digital clock beside you, showing that it had been hours that you’ve been sleeping.

“Jonah?” you called, flipping the covers off your body as you stepped onto the floor, a shock shooting up your body as the cold from the floor hit your bare feet.

Jonah wasn’t in the cottage. Where was he?

You threw a hoodie over your body, running out barefoot, calling Jonah’s name into the open air, the trees surrounding you casting shadows under the moonlight.

You walked down the path a few feet away from the cottage, your feet hurting from the sticks and rocks hitting them with every step, but you didn’t care.

“Jonah!” you called again, looking around you for any sign of him, listening for any noise.

When you looked to your right, you saw the most horrific sight you had ever seen.

“Jonah!” you screamed as you looked down into ravine, Jonah’s body spread across the dark grey rock, red liquid pooling around him.

You grabbed onto tree branches, carefully making your way down to him as fast as you could, almost falling many times.

When you reached his body you placed your hands on his face, the blood staining your skin, shaking him slightly.

“Jonah? Baby, wake up,” you screamed, shaking him slightly harder, earning nothing but his head bobbing in response, his eyes shut, his body heavy.

“You can’t leave me.”

“I’m real, Y/n. I’m here, I’m real. Just touch me,” he urged again. You stood up, your hand shaking as it reached towards him, hovering over his chest. He lifted his hand, placing it over yours as he brought it to his chest, the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric of his shirt onto your hand, his heart beating against it.

You breathed rapidly, a smile breaking out onto your face as tears joined and steamed from your irritated eyes.

“See? I’m real,” he smiled, squeezing your hand gently.

“But, how? What are you? A ghost? A dream? I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“Figure it out, Y/n, you’re a smart girl,” he replied.

You took a step closer, placing your hands on either side of his face as you brought your lips to his, the feeling of his familiar mouth against yours making the butterflies in your stomach erupt. This has to be a dream. You couldn’t be kissing him.

“Come lie in bed with me,” he insisted, lying down with his arms open, waiting for you to join him just as you lay in bed waiting for him a few years ago.

You lay next to him, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed the top of your head, memories of a few years ago rushing back like a tidal wave. The late nights up talking as you cuddled, the giggle fits at 3am, everything.

You didn’t want to wake up from this dream, but you knew, eventually, you had to.

You woke up to the warm sun tingling your skin, the bed empty beside you.

“Jonah?” you called, standing up quickly, rushing as you opened your bedroom door, revealing him standing there.

“You can’t do that!” you exclaimed, “I thought you left me again, I-I thought you were gone,” you breathed.

“I’m here,” he answered, leaning against the door frame.

“This doesn’t make sense. I can feel your heartbeat, I can kiss you, smell you, feel your breath against my skin. It’s not possible,” you shook your head.

“It’s possible,” he answered simply.

“I’m crazy, I have to be crazy. Or maybe you’re not dead, maybe that’s the part of me that’s crazy and you’re still here,” you laughed, touching the side of his face as you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, “I’m not alive.”

“How can I smell your skin and feel your heart if you’re not alive?” I asked again, my voice shaky. “Your lips and your cheeks are pink, your hair is full, you’re alive.”

“Because I’m real to you,” he replied solemnly.

“There’s a world out there Jonah, a world I need to live in. I’m alive, Jonah. I can’t stay stuck in here with you. I’ve been in here, talking to myself! So you gave me one last good night together for me to properly move on and grieve and stop blaming myself for you dying and when I get home from work you’ll be gone,” I explained, more for myself than for him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/n, I’m here for you,” he said, once again.

“What does that even mean?” I asked, frustrated as I rubbed my eyes, pinching my skin to wake myself up from whatever it was that was happening.

“Figure it out. Now go, you have work,” he said, nudging you and giving you and encouraging smile to go get ready for your day.

He’s gonna be gone. He has to be gone now. It was one last night, and now he’ll leave. I needed it to move on. I needed the closure.

You walked through your front door, gasping again as Jonah stood there, the sun shining through the bay window reflecting off his bright eyes.

“You really won’t leave,” you muttered to yourself.

“I’m here for you.”

“I love you, Jonah. So much, I always will. I loved you more than anything in the world. I want to go out for dinner with you and not look like a crazy person talking to myself. I want to walk down the street holding your hand, take you home to my parents on holidays. I-I want you alive, Jo, not like this,” you said, shaking your head as tears leaked from your eyes and down your hot cheeks.

“Are you-are you breaking up with me?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“I think I am, Jonah. I have to. I have to move on. You’re dead, and I have to keep living without you, as hard as it is. I want you alive, and I hate that we can’t have that. You have to go, Jonah, please. Don’t you want me to be happy?” you asked.

“I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Y/n. I can’t leave though, I’m here for you,” he said.

“I don’t want you here Jonah, I can’t date a ghost! You can’t be here so go back to heaven or wherever you came from and just let me move on!” you screamed.

“Do you believe in heaven, Y/n?” Jonah asked, pulling your hand into his.

“I don’t know. I want to,” you answered, exhaling loudly.

“When I got to come back here, come back and see you, I thought this must be heaven. Heaven is wherever you are, Y/n. You are my heaven, but maybe I’m your hell,” he said.

“Shut up! Shut up! I don’t even know what that means, I don’t know what you are! I don’t know what’s happening to me!” you said, running your hands through your hair and tugging slightly, a loud sob escaping your lips as you sat on the couch, tears free falling, no words coming out of your mouth despite it being wide open, the only sound loud gasps and shrieks as you let out everything you had been trying so hard to hold in.

“I want you to be happy, more than anything. It hurts me to be here too, it really does, but I can’t leave, I can’t,” he said sternly. “Think, Y/n. You need to figure it out yourself. Think, you’re smart.” 

“I can see you, feel you, smell you, hear you. It’s not possible. I have to be crazy it doesn’t make sense,” I shook my head.

“Figure it out, Y/n. I’m here for you,” he muttered as he ran his hand through your hair, wiping the tears that were streaming down your face, tinted black from the mascara you had put on that morning.

You sat with Daniel on your balcony, explaining him everything that had been happening, knowing he was the only person in the world who wouldn’t attempt to immediately send you to the psych ward for what you had been saying.

“He just keeps saying he’s here for me. I’m his heaven but he’s my hell. He’s here for me,” you explained, feeling confused for a moment before it hit you, your eyes widening as your entire body stiffened.

Daniel finally went home and you ran into your bedroom, hunched over to catch your breath as you felt Jonah’s presence beside you once again.

“Heaven and Hell,” you muttered.

“Yes,” Jonah said softly, standing at a wider distance from you than he had previously.

“You’re not here for me, Jonah. You’re here for me. You’re here for me. You came to get me,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispered back, meeting your volume and tone. “I thought you were my heaven. I love you so much, Y/n. I’m not your heaven, though.”

“I’m dying. I’m sick. And instead of telling me, you just stood there for days instead of saving me! Screw you, Jonah! I hate you, I fucking hate you! You selfish son of a bitch! Leave!” you screamed, running over to him and shoving him backwards, his arms reaching out to stabilize both of you as you attempted to push him again.

“I can go now, because you know,” he muttered. “I don’t know if I can ever come back if I leave. You get to choose.”

“Between heaven and hell, I choose heaven. I choose life, Jonah. So go. Get out of here! I’m not going with you, I’m not. I might be your heaven but I choose life!” I explained. 

“Y/n,” he said calmly, reaching out to touch your face.

“Go. What are you waiting for?” you asked rhetorically, not looking at him as tears stung your eyes and your skin.

He pressed his lips against yours one last time, telling you he loved you before walking away, leaving you alone and shaking in his wake.

“I’m gonna die,” you whispered to yourself as your knees wobbled.

[silver-the-cat]

7 Thorns in My Side - Part 1

A Jacksepticeye (And Egos) fanfiction

Summary: The demon has won. Jack is now trapped in a coma, the others are nothing more than mere puppets, and he finally has a physical form that he can use to wreak havoc on this realm. Absolutely nothing else can stop him, nothing at all. Or at least, that’s what he’d like to say. A certain group of 7 egos, all of whom with some kind of relation to Jack and the others, have risen and are determined to make sure the demon falls, for good this time.

It had been months, months since one of their doctors suddenly returned unannounced and with a patient, seemingly unconscious. It didn’t even take long for them to realize that it wasn’t just some simple injury or an illness, this patient was completely comatose.

Marie had only begun working a few weeks prior to the whole incident, only hearing stories of this doctor before his sudden return. Even when she did get the chance to meet the man himself, something about him struck her the wrong way. And the fact he suddenly turned up without any warning with a patient who had fallen into a literal coma certainly didn’t help that feeling of unrest. She had tried voicing this concern to her coworkers, only to be told she was merely being paranoid. 

She tried to convince herself that she was just overthinking things, frequently dispelling those intrusive thoughts as she performed her daily routines, checking in on patients and filing paperwork. It just so happened that on this particular day, she was given the job of checking up on the strange patient.

Marie hesitated for a moment outside the room’s door, hand hovering over the doorknob. Something about this patient, it also struck her the wrong way. From what they could tell, this man was in perfect health, aside from the whole ‘being in a coma’ part. They couldn’t find any sign of trauma that could’ve induced the coma, nor could they find any life-threatening disease. In all truth, he shouldn’t have even been in the hospital at all if it weren’t for the coma. Obviously, something was up with him. Something very unnatural.

“Alright, last patient for now…” She said, taking a deep breath. She finally grabbed the doorknob, pushing the door open slowly. “I know there is a very slim chance you’ll answer, but Mr. McLoughlin? I’m one of the nurses, I’m merely here for a routine check-up.” As she expected, absolutely no answer. The patient simply laid in the bed, almost as if he was dead to the rest of the world. Marie took in another breath as she set about her duties. She checked the heart rate, replaced anything that needed to be replaced, and cleaned out the rest of the room. As she finished throwing out the last piece of garbage, she turned back to face the patient, only to nearly have a heart attack.

The man was sitting up in his bed, letting out hoarse, extremely labored breaths every so often. He wasn’t looking at her, or at anything in particular really. Instead, he simply stared blankly ahead, even giving Marie goosebumps. But that wasn’t what terrified her the most.

It was the fact that blood was falling from his eyes like tears.

“M-Mr. McLoughlin? Are you…o-okay?!” Marie yelped, rushing over. “W-What’s going on? Can you h-hear me? Can you speak o-or--?!” The door swung open loudly before she knew it, also nearly giving her a heart attack.

“Nurse! Vhat iz going on?!” Marie turned, not sure whether to be relieved or even more worried at the sight of the doctor, Dr. Schneeplestein if she could remember correctly. The very same doctor she had been afraid of.

“D-Doctor, I’m not sure what. W-When I entered, he s-seemed stable enough!” Marie stammered as Schneeplestein walked over, causing her to back away as he attempted to get a closer look. “But w-when I turned around, h-he was sitting up like this, w-what’s even going on?! W-Will he be okay, I-I’ve never seen anything like this before!” Schneeplestein didn’t reply for a few moments, instead choosing to carefully push the patient onto his back once more while also leaning in a bit closer. This only left Marie even more clueless as to what exactly was going on or even what he was doing, since he was obscuring her view completely.

“Zhere, he should be stable for now….” The Doctor said after a moment of him doing something rather quietly. “....I’m terribly sorry you had to have vitnessed zhat, Nurse. But I assure you….everyzhing has been taken care of.”

“A-Are you sure?! Sir, he was literally b-bleeding from his eyes. A-And it sounded a-as if he was having trouble breathing as well!” Marie pointed out. “M-Maybe I should go find another doctor, j-just in case?” Schneeplestein spun around suddenly, panic strangely flashing across his face for a brief second.

“No, no, no! It’s fine, I can vatch him if you’re really zhat vorried!” He said quickly, holding up a hand. “He’ll be perfectly fine, I assure you! Vhy don’t you,” he moved away from the patient’s bedside, instead taking Marie by the shoulders as he began pushing her towards the door, “go see vhat else zhey need you for? I’m sure you have much, much more vork to do!” 

“But, sir, I--” She started, only to have the door nearly slam shut in her face. For a few moments, she merely stood at the door and stared at it, completely confused about what had just happened. But, Schneeplestein was right, she did have more work to do. 

At least, she thought as she slowly began to walk off down the hall, I’d have one hell of a story to tell during break.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Schneeplestein has his back to the door, leaning his head back against the wood while one hand was also planted firmly on his forehead. An empty syringe was clenched firmly in his other hand, remnants of a bright green fluid still dripping from the very tip of the needle.

“God dammit….how much longer….?” He muttered under his breath, just before sighing. “I can’t keep zhis up forever….Somevone vill find out eventually…..”

“Oh please, I have my ways of making sure nobody does.” A voice, sounding as if it directly next to him, giggled. Barely flinching, he moved his hand and looked back to the room. In the farthest corner of the room, the shadowy outline of a man stood, the only things visible were two glowing green dots where eyes would be. If you looked closely as well, there was something reflective right on his throat, giving off a dark red metallic shine even in the dim light. “What’s more important than whether or not you can keep your own damn mouth shut is whether or not you’re doing your job.”

“Of course I am, you’d torture me if I didn’t.” Schneeplestein snapped back, walking away from the door and back to the patient’s bedside. The shadow merely gave a small snort, not moving from his place at all. “Vhat do you vant now. I’ve been doing everyzhing you’ve told me so far. For months now at zhis point.”

“Am I never allowed to just pay a small visit? Who can blame me if I want to see my favorite BOY?” The figure laughed, almost definitely grinning if he wasn’t before. “Or to know how the Good doctor is? And if he was doing his job properly. I nearly lost my body for a minute there. How badly are you even screwing things up if he was able to get up?”

“Obviously not bad enough for you to still be here, vhining and moaning to me about all of this.” Schneeplestein hissed. “I have it all under control. Vhy don’t you just get back to being zhe “puppet master” as you enjoy calling yourself.” Almost immediately, he knew that was the exact wrong thing to say. The air suddenly grew cold and sharp with what felt like anger. As he turned, something thin and grey shot out from where the figure stood, coiling itself tightly around his own throat and causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

“You’re extremely lucky I don’t kill you right here, right now.” The figure said coldly, holding the end of the grey thing tightly in one hand. “But I swear, I won’t hesitate to put a knife right in your throat. Just give me a reason to.”

“I….If you h-haven’t....” Schneeplestein somehow managed to choke out, fighting against the thing as much as he could. “K….Killed me yet….or even t-turned me into a….a puppet…..zhen I doubt you vo...vould kill me now….” The figure growled, before roughly pulling the grey thing back and even jerking the doctor forwards slightly. Despite this, the thing was somehow loosened and gave Schneeplestein the chance to yank it off. “It’s clear you need me, alive and not under your control.”

“Do you want a prize for figuring that out?” The figure said, suddenly making the grey thing disappear in a flash of red. “So what? I apparently can’t kill you. But does that mean I can’t make your life a living hell if you don’t do exactly as I say?” No reply from Schneeplestein, especially since he didn’t have any kind of snappy comeback to that at all. “Well, that would be to say your life isn’t already hell. But I’m sure the point still stands.”

“....I cannot describe how much I vish to hit you vith a chair right now….” Schneeplestein said through clenched teeth, glaring down the figure who merely laughed.

“I’d suggest you control those urges then, doctor. Unless you’d rather I harm one of your friends again….” The figure replied, obviously getting a real kick out of this entire situation. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we? Get back to work too, I’m not about to lose my body yet again.” With one last giggle, the figure seemed to melt back into the shadows, leaving Schneeplestein alone with the patient once more. He turned back around, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.

He truly did not know how much more he could take, at all.

((Boom, brand new story and an original one two. Obviously enough, everything in this story is based off of everything we believe to be happening right now. Examples being the coma, Anti returning, and Anti even having a physical form. This takes a look at a what if? What if Anti succeeds? What if he succeeds in picking off the egos, one by one, and placing them under his control? And what if he manages to get an actual physical form?

My mind kinda ran wild with this idea, and the ideas that followed. I won’t reveal everything quite yet, but I very much enjoy what I’m trying here. And I hope you all enjoy it too! However many people actually decide to read this, that is.

As for Wonderland, I’ve hit a bit of a brain fart, so it might take a bit longer for that to come out. My sincerest apologies, but I just have had no motivation to work on it at all. I promise I’m still gonna finish it! It just might take a while.

Alrighty, long rambling author’s note done. PEACE))