#what a relief to consider 12 possible reasons someone could be acting like X that DON'T mean that they hate you

[shurisneakers]

shut in [9]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, ptsd, shooting

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: ok ok ok ok sam deserves the world and im mad that he’s not getting it

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

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Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

He was gone.

10:00am

Time had begun to slip past you. Days where you were forced to wake up at 4am were just a dreary memory you didn’t want to revisit. The rough shoves in the morning to have you awake enough to be in training by 4:30am only fell into the category of things you had forgotten over the time you had stayed here.

Maybe sleep wasn’t a luxury you weren’t allowed to afford.

10:30am

By the time you step into the kitchen, the loose structure of the day you had ahead of you was forming. Maybe if you revisited the small makeshift shooting range you had set up for Sam and you to practice. A couple of old soup cans, a flat boulder for them to sit on and you were good to go. He had allowed you to use his giant board for knife throwing too, laughed when you asked for permission before saying it was for the both of you. 

You made a sandwich for yourself, forcing it down your throat with water. Bread was starting to feel like cardboard and the jam just tasted like nothing. Peanut butter was even worse.

Losing appetite wasn’t an option, even though it had eroded a while ago. The best option was to just scarf it down with water. 

11:00am

Sam isn’t in the house, you had deduced. A morning run or maybe just some fresh air.

You checked for the notes he sometimes left for you when he went out. Something along the lines of when he’d be back, or why he’d left, or where you could find him. 

You looked on top of the fridge where he generally left them; someplace he knew you’d see. You didn’t find one.

You shrugged it off. 

Something felt wrong about the arrangement of the kitchen but you couldn’t place a finger on what it was. All the chairs were in its place, trash appropriately in the bin, no bowls were left from soup day in the sink to wash. 

The origami swan you had made still rested next to his paper airplane. Nothing seemed wrong or out of place. 

You pushed yourself to shake off the nerves, to get dressed instead. The shooting range was waiting for you.

12:45pm

When you shoot for thirty and get all thirty, it tends to get a little boring. Not that you were complaining; if even one was off you’d spend the whole day trying to make up for it.

Violent hobbies weren’t ideal. They weren’t even hobbies per se. Just skills you needed to keep sharp if you wanted to survive.

You even shot at the targets that you had hung up on the trees. Dangerous and completely Sam’s idea. Said the wind made them act like moving targets. Nevermind the possibility of a ricochet.

The target board was empty too. Admittedly, knife throwing was a little harder  to get used than shooting to but it still only took a few tries before you were hitting bullseye over and over again.

There just wasn’t anything to do. And you realised it had been this way for a while but you never noticed due to his lively chatter or how competitive it got with stupid games you were making up as you went. 

1:00pm

You learned against the counter as you ate, eyeing the room, trying to figure out what you had misplaced. The air was cold, even more so after the shower, so you threw on an extra t-shirt to aid you.

You made a noise of disapproval when you couldn’t find what was wrong. A quick wash of your hands before you made your way to the TV, fully intending to doze off while watching Megamind for the fourth time. 

You passed by the mini fridge on the way, noting how you needed to restock the ice cubes when you suddenly stopped in your path.

Your eyes peeled back to the small paper bowl Sam had crafted expertly that was still somehow managing to stick together. But that was what was wrong.

The keys were missing.

The fucking car keys and the pocket change you had taken from Pierce’s house were no longer there. 

Your body moved on autopilot, dragging you towards the front door. You yanked it open, door creaking under the pressure you applied on it.

Your heart sank. 

The car was gone.

1:20pm

You had all the possibilities listed out in front of you with the rest scratched out after you had rationalised it.

Someone had come in and taken the car, which wasn’t likely. 

Sam had stepped out but hadn’t mentioned it to you. If he did, why would he need the car?

Someone had abducted Sam, which was absurd on paper but still left a twinge of uncertainty because you couldn’t definitively rule it out. 

He had just left. Decided he was done and left. 

You stared at the last option. 

“Fuck,” you cursed.

You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?

You wondered if it was that conversation. 

He wouldn’t leave after you told him, would he?

You hesitated before shaking your head.

He’d come back. He would.

1:45pm 

You had added a few more possibilities to the list but discarded it almost immediately.

You now found a place in front of the TV, watching but not registering what was said. Your fingers kept itself busy by playing with the hem of your shirt. You had thrown another one on since his jacket was missing with the rest of him. It had gotten colder.

The woman droned on about how much her husband loved the recipe she was making. It was Sam’s favourite segment, not because it was particularly fantastic or anything, but because it gave him forty five minutes of free content to trash talk.

Your eyes kept glancing up at the clock. Was it broken or was time much slower than you initially thought?

You almost felt like you were in a cognitive dysfunction; you couldn’t do anything other than while away time till you figured out what had gone wrong. 

2:00pm

If you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t have heard the soft crunch of twigs. The whirring of the wheels as it turned gently only made you sit up straight, hands on the gun that rested on the couch beside you.

It came to a stop. The gun was fully in your grip now, TV turned off to determine what the noises were.

It was the most agonisingly slow minute you spent listening as the car opened and shut, muffled by the distance. You were near the door, using the adjoining wall as a hideaway. 

The doorknob shook as someone tried to push their way in. 

“Sam?” you called out cautiously against your better judgement, mentally cringing. 

It took a second for his reply to return. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Let me in, will you? Stupid door’s not opening.”

Of course it wouldn’t. It was fingerprint activated.

Relief flooded your system, letting yourself hold the gun with only one hand as you hastily made your way to open the door.

However, you paused. As much as you wanted to fling the door open blindly, you waited, hand on the knob.

“Is someone out there with you?”

“What?” he sounded confused. “No, it’s just me.”

You opened the door slightly, peeking out through the sliver of open space. 

Sure enough, it was only him. The car was returned to the same spot that it was.

“Where were you?” You yanked the door open. You sounded way more aggressive than you planned to, you were sure. It didn’t matter though.

“Went to the store,” he said nonchalantly, stepping inside, and dropping the keys back where they were.

“What?” 

He was so relaxed about it, like it was nothing. It only irked you further than you already were.

“Drove the car till the highway, walked into town and went to the store.” He set the bag down. “What’d you do all day?”

“You went to the town,” you emphasised. “To the fucking store.”

“Yeah, I figured you would be up by the time I came back.”

“You were gone for hours.” You crossed your arms over your chest, fighting the urge to yell. You could talk it out calmly. You didn’t have to snap

You hoped he had a good reason. You sincerely hoped, for his well being and security, that he risked his life to go to public space.

“We’re way further out than you think. Nearest dollar store’s almost the next fuckin’ state if you’re walking. Had to ditch the car because it’s a little too flashy, even for me.” He lifted up the bag next to him. “Got us some ramen. And juice. That’s all we had cash for anyway.”

You stare at him, mouth slightly agape. 

“You could have been seen, Sam,” your tone was corrosive, the next best you could do instead of yelling. “For all we know, you could have been followed.”

“No one followed me. I made sure.”

That did nothing to alleviate the anxiety that was crawling into your head. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered. “Fucking ridiculous.”

“Where are you going?” You ignored him, turning on your heel and walking to the bedroom. You didn’t care if it was his day that day. He could rot in the kitchen with his stupid ramen for all you cared.

You cursed as you slammed the door behind you, launching yourself onto the bed. 

There was no denying you were relieved that he was still alive and here. But fuck him. Fucking dickhead. 

Fucking juice.

You spent the next couple of hours feeling absolutely embarrassed for yourself. Why did you spend hours worrying if he was safe when he was out there, gallivanting in public for some stupid noodles?

Both of you could have been absolutely fucked if he wasn’t careful. He may have just jeopardised your entire set up.

But deep down, no matter how much it was annoying to acknowledge, you knew he wouldn’t have. He was smart, strategic. 

Why would he do something like this?

How much you were worried scared you. There was no time where it had occurred that maybe you were in danger too. Every possibility you came up with only pushed the thought of him possibly in trouble further into your head. 

But the more you spend time overthinking, the more you realised that him being in danger wasn’t the entire cause of your worry. 

What if he didn’t come back? Why’d he come back? 

He had the means to leave, the will to and clearly was able to go undetected for a while. He didn’t need to return, but he did. 

And for what; to give you some food he bought from the dollar store. 

He seemed excited about it too, before you had closed the door on his face and decided to spend the next few hours self-destructing.

Fucking ramen.

Maybe if you could just lie there until you decomposed, then you wouldn’t have to have a conversation with him about this. That’s what you would have done a couple of months ago. 

But now the idea of communicating had been implanted and implemented several times before. It didn’t feel right to push it away, not when you’d come so far. A chance to heal.

You groaned, shoving a pillow onto your face before getting up grumpily. 

Fuck this man and his stupid, healthy methods of coping. 

___

You opened the door slowly, creeping into the hallway to assess what he was doing. It had been a few hours of silence in the house. He had given you space, not come knocking on the door to explain himself. 

You took note of the kitchen. The table had been laid with two bowls of noodles covered with a plate along with a glass each of juice. It was domestic. Cute.

He was watching Die Hard but the volume was turned down low. If he was anything like you, he wouldn’t have been paying too much attention.

You cleared your throat awkwardly to grab his attention.

His neck craned to look at you, surprise flashing across his face for a second before he leapt up, turning off the TV in an instant.

“Y/N,” he stated as normally as he could.

“Samuel,” your tone was steady. 

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Wasn’t sure if you were gonna show up.” 

“Neither was I.” You looked at the table, gesturing towards it with your shoulder. “Watchu got there, Gordon Ramsey?”

Because screw him, but the longer you stood there staring at the bowl, you were starting to understand the lengths he went to to get something other than bread, peanut butter and soup. As much as the prospect of being petty thrilled you, you had survived on nothing but them for the past few weeks.

“Got a few packs of ramen and a gallon of juice from the store. Thought you- we deserve somethin’ nice.” You noticed his quick coverup but didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s not Michelin star worthy, but it’ll do.”

You nodded, avoiding looking at him.

“I-”

“Hey-”

Both of you started at the same time, only to be cut off by the other. You mentioned for him to continue.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I should have told you before I left,” You didn’t expect the sincerity that exuded from every word he let out and you found yourself unable to look away. “I’m not used to people worrying about where I go... but things are different now. I won’t do it again.”

You weren’t used to the feeling of lightness that accompanied an apology. Relief. 

“Thank you,” you said breathily. His face noticeably brightened. “But why’d you come back?”

His small smile left as soon as it came, as his face fell into a frown. “What?”

“You could have just left. You had the car, the-” you stopped yourself from listing out reasons why he should have. “Why’d you come back?”

He looked completely confused. 

“Because I wanted to,” he voiced. “Leaving you behind was never an option. I wouldn’t-”

He trailed off, eyes never leaving yours. 

“You’re stuck with me,” he urged softly. “We’re a team.”

You lingered on him longer than you wanted to admit. He wasn’t lying, you had realised. 

“Care to join me for dinner?” he asked, extending a hand to you.

You rolled your eyes but took it, feeling the heat creep up your neck. He smirked at you and fuck, he was frustratingly cute. 

You understood. You totally understood when you nearly died at the first bite you took, vowing to never take food like this for granted again. It may have been the absolute bare minimum; just the seasoning and noodles he had cooked in the microwave, but it was the best goddamn meal you ever had.

“Good, right?” He looked about as content as he could be. 

“Best fuckin’ day of my life.”

He kidded around some more. You choked out a laugh at some, wholly ignored the others to which he took complete offence. You saw it as a way to humble him.

This was the normalcy you had crushed your craving for so long ago, accepting that it wouldn’t ever happen. A normal dinner with someone who made you smile, no impending doom lurking around the corner and maybe a shot at a glimmer of something happy. 

It was strange that you found it with another hitman in a safe house, hiding from authorities and who knows what else, with food worth a couple of cents. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

Yet there were things that had to be discussed. Conversations that needed to happen.

“Sam, we need to talk about it.” You didn’t have to explain, he knew what you were talking about.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you. 

“I’m listening.”

“We do,” he agreed, and you could feel the atmosphere in the room begin to shift. “But we don’t have to do it now.”

He reached across from where he was sitting, hesitantly interlacing your fingers. The sense of fluster you experienced wasn’t healthy, you decided.

You just ducked your head, fighting against the damn smile that was trying to make its way onto your face. You didn’t pull away.

“Okay.”

Next part

#sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #mcu fic #sam fic #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #sam wilson series #falcon #falcon x reader #the falcon x reader #hitman!sam wilson #hitman!au #shut in fic #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #sam wilson #the falcon #sam wilson fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam imagine

[zaffrenotes]

[TRR] Kairos

Kairos - Part 12

Pairing: Liam x Riley, Liam x OC Series Rating/Warnings: 18+; language; series will include ns*w 🍋 scenes Chapter Rating/Warnings: G Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Kairos (καιρός) is a word in Greek that translates to “the right time” or “the right moment to act” * Liam’s wife asks about “the one that got away” one night over dinner, and Liam recounts a relationship from his past * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles​​ Prompt 89: This isn't what I had in mind, but okay. * Author’s Note 2: * I apologize if this chapter feels choppy; I haven't updated this story since January, and writing is H A R D, but I want to finish this AU. I know how it ends, I just have to *gestures at the air* get there. * Word Count: 1708

Catch up with previous chapters here

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for this series): @ao719 @blackcatkita @debramcg1106 @ofpixelsandscribbles @callmeellabella @smalltalk88 @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @choiceskatie @darley1101 @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @liamxs-world @rainbowsinthestorm @riseandshinelittleblossom @superharriet @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @the-soot-sprite // @alyssalauren @clairexoxo100 @cordonianroyalty @cordonian-literature @gkittylove99 @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @pink-diamond13 @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @txemrn @yourmajesty09

The evening carried on, and it was nearly impossible for Liam to pull himself away from one conversation to the next. Most of the new suitors vied for his attention to make a good impression, various nobles edged their way into conversations to discuss official business, and his friends made every effort to steal him away for short reprieves. He was dancing when he caught a flash of Max’s dress near the edge of the dance floor.

Brief glimpses and glances of a link to Liam’s almost-love was all The Fates seemed to grant for the duration of the ball, despite his best efforts to carve out a moment with Max. The irony wasn’t lost on him; having found a connection to Elia after years had passed, without a way to speak with her sister. His hand warmed against his dancing partner’s palm as they waltzed with other couples.

“What’s troubling you tonight? Besides the obvious farce of this whole ordeal.” A pair of cherry red lips curled into a sympathetic grin, and Liam nodded in silent agreement. “Something other than counting steps is running through your mind.”

Liam adjusted his grip on Olivia’s hand as he led her across the floor, quickly scanning the crowd for another glimpse of Max. “I require the assistance of a dear friend,” he answered quietly, twirling her in a circle. “Someone who knows of secret passages in the palace to remain undetected, who can also speak with one of the new ladies at court.”

One of Olivia’s brows arched in Liam’s direction. “Has someone managed to catch your eye already?”

“Not the way you think,” he replied. “It’s a long story, and right now I’m grasping at straws, but it’s…something.” As Liam twirled his childhood friend in another circle, the expression in his eyes conveyed the seriousness of his request.

Olivia’s back tensed when she looked up to meet her friend’s gaze, though they moved effortlessly through the song. “What do you need me to do, Li?”

“There’s a young woman here, wearing a peacock ballgown. Her name is Max.”

“There’s some irony,” Olivia giggled. “Maxwell’s probably talking her ear off over her dress alone.”

“I haven’t been able to speak with her since we were introduced.”

“Tell me when and where, I’ll make sure you converse with her before morning.”

Liam shook his head at the suggestion. “That’s not the kind of conversation I need to have, Liv. I do need to speak with her though. It could mean cancelling the rest of the social season before it’s had a chance to begin, in a good way.”

Olivia arched her brow at Liam again, as the music began to come to an end. “I’m going to need a full story about this very soon, if she’s a means of ending the season.”

Liam let out an anxious laugh. “Soon enough, of course. Get her as close as possible to my office without being seen.” He looked over Olivia’s shoulder to see Bastien by the ballroom doors, nodding at him just before Bastien said something to another member of the Kings Guard. “Enjoy the rest of the ball, I’ve got to go over details for tomorrow’s events. Shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”

--

Nearly an hour after Liam departed the ballroom, he sighed with relief to enjoy the silence in his office once Regina and her team of event planners were satisfied with preparations for the garden party. He poured himself a bit of scotch in a glass as a nightcap, glancing at the clock on the wall. Most of the guests had ventured home while he went over checklists with Regina, minus the suitors and their sponsors that would live at the palace for the next several weeks.

Another weary sigh slipped past Liam’s lips as he returned to the ornate desk in the office, and he removed the cufflinks Madeleine had given to him as a gift. He rolled up his sleeves, trying to ignore the soft ticking of the clock, wondering if Olivia had managed to get a hold of Max. Princess Maria Amelita Xamira Basilio, who had a sister that went by the name Elia. There were too many similarities in her siblings names and the fact that Max looked so similar in appearance to Elia.

He’d opened the laptop on the desk and was about to type Elia’s real name into the search window, when there was a knock at the door. Liam rushed out of his seat to answer, loudly whispering a name when he turned the knob. “Olivia? Is that you?” He was surprised to see Max in the hallway by herself. “Your Highness, please, come in,” he said, stepping aside to let Max pass. “Did anyone see you?”

Max bowed her head to Liam as she stepped into his office. “No, Lady Olivia led me through a number of passages from my room, and distracted the very tall, silver-haired guard down the hall.”

Liam chuckled softly. “That would be Bastien. He’s always had a bit of a soft spot for Olivia, ever since we were children.” He closed the door shut before walking towards the liquor cabinet. “May I offer you something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, taking a seat in one of the small couches. “To what do I owe this clandestine invitation?”

Liam sat down in the matching sofa across from Max, clasping his hands together as he carefully chose what to say next. “Max, you and I are both aware of the reason you’re here, participating in the social season. Under other circumstances, I’m certain you would have caught my eye, just as you did earlier this evening.”

Max chewed a tiny spot of her inner cheek. “There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there?”

“The reason you caught my eye was because you bear a striking resemblance to someone I met several years ago, before I met and married my first wife, Riley. Someone who, until tonight, I thought was lost to me.”

“Are you saying I’ve got a secret twin you’ve already met? This isn’t what I had in mind, but okay.” She grinned conspiratorially at him. “Who’s this doppelgänger that’s stuck with you?”

Liam sucked in a breath before answering. “As it were, it’s your sister. Elia.”

Max blinked at him silently, her eyes welling up with glossy tears at the mention of her name. “You…you knew Elia? When? When did you see her? Have you heard from her?” The questions tumbled out all at once, as Max tried to compose herself.

He picked up a gilded box of tissues from a side table, offering it to her. Max pulled two from the box, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, waiting for a response. “It’s been a number of years,” he began. “She was vacationing in Greece, just before she was supposed to return to university to study law.”

Max stopped dabbing at her tears to look up and study Liam’s face. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the guy.”

Liam’s brows pinched together. “She mentioned me?”

“Very briefly,” she responded. “Only that she met someone that gave her a reason to laugh every day, and seemed to understand what she – what we,” she paused, motioning to herself, “were going through, being…high profile?”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Liam chuckled softly. “She never said outright that she was a princess, but after we parted ways, many of the things we shared in our conversations made sense.” He looked up to see a puzzled expression on Max’s face. “Her fluency in languages, the way she could tell stories about growing up in vivid detail while overlooking things like ‘I grew up in a palace’ or ‘my parents were especially strict with me and my siblings’…”

“Oh by the way, that’s because they’re the king and queen?” Max scoffed lightly, shaking her head.

“I tried to look for her, for quite some time after that trip,” Liam added. “Only…my efforts were in vain, as the names she used were all nicknames. Even her own name wasn’t fully hers. Elia de Leon.”

Max sniffled and the puzzled expression returned to her face. “De Leon? That’s…our great-grandmother’s name.”

“I suppose that makes sense as well, now that I’m familiar with your family name. Had I searched for Elia Basilio, I might have found out about the royal connection, not that it would’ve changed my opinion of her.” Liam ran a hand across his face, his jawline and chin already rough with stubble. “You haven’t heard from her since that summer either? Anyone in your family?”

“No,” Max answered. “When her personal guard called the morning he was supposed to escort her home, he told my parents the apartment was empty…that she must have snuck away the night before.”

“But I was with her until morning.”

“What?”

“I…” Liam hesitated, taking in a breath. “I had dinner with Elia the night before she was supposed to leave. We talked long into the night, and I told her I was a prince. I even offered to let her stay with me here to take more time and consider alternative options to create some distance with your parents.”

“Because they wanted to marry her off, right?”

“Correct,” Liam nodded. “She only told me it was for a political alliance, to put your family name in a positive light after Mariela’s marriage to someone caused trouble.”

Max sighed with indignation. “That guy, ugh. That’s a story for another evening.” She began to wring the tissue between her hands. “But you saw Elia the next morning?”

“Yes, in fact I was the one that slipped out while she was still sleeping, long after dawn. I stopped for a coffee in the café below where she’d been staying, on my way to return home as well, and I…” Liam paused, recalling the man in the café that morning, remembering the other patron. “You said she had a personal security guard assigned to her?”

“Beni…Benigno, yes,” Max replied.

“Do you have a photo of him?”

“I can do better than that,” Max answered, pulling her phone from the pocket of her cardigan. “He’s here as my security and chaperone for the duration of my stay.”

#the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance fanfiction #trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #the royal romance au #trr au #trr liam x oc #king liam x oc #wacky drabbles #wackydrabbles #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfiction #zaffrenotes writes

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable- Ch 4: The Popular Kids (S1E10)

Summary:  A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: death, murder of teens, swearing, death threats

Ch 3 | Ch 5

~ ~ ~

A few weeks later, Lydia was woken by a call from her sister. She did her best not to sound shocked as she picked up, but Rebecca always seemed to know what she was thinking. Lydia considered herself a very good liar until Beck was around.

“Hey Beck, how have you been?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back, okay?” Right out of that gate, she was pissed. But Lydia felt some relief to know that she wasn’t calling because something was wrong. “You know that I’m just frustrated you left again.”

“I know,” she replied. “How’s school?”

She could hear her sister huff on the other side. “Boring. I don’t see what mom expects me to learn there.”

Lydia grimaced slightly when Rebecca said ‘mom’, but quickly recovered.

“College is good for you. It’ll help you figure out what you want to do.”

“You know how often I change my mind. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to just… decide my whole future. And if school didn’t help me the first 12 years, what’s another four going to do?”

“You have more freedom in college,” Lydia reasoned, but it was just more fuel to the fire.

“Which you obviously took and ran with,” she grumbled.

“Beck, I went to Santa Cruz. That’s barely an hour away.”

“Yeah. And then as soon as I thought I was getting you back, you hopped on a plane to DC. And I wanted to follow you, but mom keeps insisting that I go to community college first.”

“Sonia is just trying to look out for you,” Lydia explained. “I mean, what are you going to do when you get here? Have me take care of you?”

The other end was silent for a minute. Lydia felt guilty, knowing that implying her sister was a burden really wasn’t the best way to handle this situation, but Rebecca sometimes forgot that if she wasn’t making money for herself, someone else was.

“When will you be back?” she demanded.

“I don’t know. I’m going to try to keep this job as long as I can and after that I’m going to go where the work takes me. But I’ll come visit as soon as I can…”

As she spoke, her phone vibrated against her ear and she pulled away to see a message from Gideon.

Round table room in 20. Bring a go bag.

She sighed. “Beck, I have to go. My boss just texted me. Tell Sonia I miss her!”

Her sister was quiet for a minute, before snapping, “That job is going to suck the life out of you,” and hanging up.

Lydia shut her eyes tightly, counting the seconds between breaths. “I love you,” she whispered into the unresponsive phone.

~ ~ ~

“McAllister,” JJ started as Lydia rushed in, stepping up next to Gideon. “Western slope of the Massanutten mountain in Virginia. Two bodies discovered in the woods, both with apparent blunt trauma to the head.”

“Skeletons?” Reid asked as he looked over the photos in his case file.

“One of them. The second victim was just killed this morning.”

“How do we know there’s a connection?” Elle asked.

“Found about 75 feet apart with nearly identical head wounds,” Hotch explained.

Lydia shook her head slightly, still looking at the details over Gideon’s shoulder. Forest is an open area and the victims didn’t look like they’d been tied there. How could someone plan to hit both of them in the same spot over the head, when the victims were in open space and could move easily? That was difficult.

“Where’s the rest of the case file?” Morgan demanded.

“There isn’t one. The sheriffs are on the scene waiting for us.”

“Their location is only a half hour away by plane,” JJ explained for Hotch.

“What’s the rush?” Morgan continued.

“Well, there was evidence on the scene that could cause a bit of public uproar.”

As Hotch said this, Gideon picked up a picture for Lydia to see. Someone had carved a pentagram into a tree with the words ‘SATAN LIVES LOD’ underneath it. They were filled in with a red liquid, but Lydia highly doubted it was blood. It was too bright. Blood would be absorbed pretty quickly by the bark and definitely leave a dark stain. It was likely just paint.

“Satanic cult,” Gideon mumbled, dropping the photo onto the table for the rest of the room to see.

Hotch was obviously unimpressed. “Grab your stuff. We leave now.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia looked around curiously as they boarded the jet. It looked nice, but Lydia didn’t have much experience with flying, much less private jets. Gideon gestured for her to sit across from him, which she quickly did, noticing the rest of the team's hustle to get on the plane and take off.

Gideon gave her what she could only call his ‘profiling’ look as she got into her seat.

“What?” she started, calmly.

“You were almost late to the meeting,” he stated and she scoffed.

“You didn’t give me much notice.”

“Your apartment’s not far.”

“Well, public transportation’s a bitch,” she argued.

This was a game to him. Profiling people was his job, but getting them to come clean was an added bonus. He knew Lydia was busy when he texted her, otherwise she wouldn’t seem so distracted. Trying to get into her head and figure out what it was was fun for him. But Lydia was ready to play.

“Do you know anything about satanism?” he asked, veering from their previous topic.

She shook her head. “You think this is a satanist?”

“You don’t?”

Lydia smiled at him. He was good at opening up the floor for other people to discuss. “It feels planted to me. Blunt force head trauma is usually an extremely… violent way of commiting a murder. One hit wouldn’t be enough to ensure death. And they were killed out in an open space so I doubt the unsub had a lot of control over where they hit them. Identical wounds? That’s impressive.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t satanism,” he argued.

“No, but they wrote the message in red, usually meaning they want to pass it off as blood, but this…” she held up the picture “...is not blood. Who puts fake blood by a non-bloody victim?”

“I’m sure the victim was bloody when they put the message up,” Morgan said, Lydia turned to where he was seated.

“Well, I’m no profiler, but if these killings were supposed to be a message about worshipping Satan, why wait so long after the first person wasn’t noticed to kill another?”

He seemed to think about this for a moment. “Touche, Lydia.”

She smiled and turned back to Gideon. “Again, that doesn’t indicate whether or not it’s satanism, but…” she trailed off, letting him consider the suspicious circumstances.

“Try to keep an open mind when examining the crime scene,” he warned her, to which she agreed.

“Total blank slate,” she joked.

And her heart lifted at the sight of Gideon’s amused smile.

~ ~ ~

Lydia had already started pulling on her latex gloves as she followed Gideon off the path and towards the skeletal body. Reid and JJ were close behind them, trying not to slip on the steep ground or piles of leaves.

The body was surrounded by branches, arching over it ceremoniously. Lydia made a quick mental note to ask if one of the sheriffs had cut away the trees or if they’d found it like that.

“Mornin’,” a man called, approaching the group. He had on a blue deputy’s jacket and a gold badge. “John Bridges.”

“Yeah, we spoke on the phone. I’m Agent Jareau, this is Agent Gideon, Dr. Reid, and our crime scene analyst, Lydia Ambers, with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.” JJ recited the greeting so fast Lydia barely heard it. She couldn’t imagine the practice JJ had with introductions.

Lydia ignored the group as they continued speaking to the sheriff and started to examine the remains. She tried not to act surprised as she felt the presence of Dr. Reid leaning over her shoulder, making notes as well.

The clothes were torn and faded, but they hadn’t completely decomposed. Judging by how thin the fabric was, she would have given it a couple years before disappearing, meaning the body might not have been left that long ago. Maybe even less than a year. No wedding ring, but those are easily stolen.

“You guys must get a lot of this, huh? Satanic stuff?”

“Not really,” Gideon mumbled. “Who found the body?”

“Hiker found the first one at the trail,” Sheriff Bridges explained. “My deputies located this one while searching for evidence. Don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman.”

“It’s a man-” Lydia said at the same time as Reid. They both looked surprised for a moment and she gestured for him to keep explaining while she searched for more.

“The male pelvis is more narrow, and the opening at the bottom is heart-shaped, as opposed to oval,” he continued. He then picked up a stick, seeing as he didn’t have gloves, and poked at a weird substance at the bottom of the tree. “Melted wax?”

“Candle wax?” JJ inquired.

Lydia peeled a piece away, rolled it around in her fingers, and hesitantly smelled it.

“Candles are used in rituals,” Reid prompted, but Lydia shook her head.

“This was recent. Colored wax fades over time and some kinds of wax rot. This body is not anywhere near that fresh. If there was a ritual here, it wasn’t a killing.” She dropped the piece she had collected, rubbing the red flecks from her fingers. She looked up at the sheriff. “Did you have to move these branches when you found the body?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. It was buried down there.”

“I thought I told you not to be biased,” Gideon scolded.

“I’m not,” Lydia defended. “But this feels… placed.”

“Explain your reasoning,” he challenged.

She crossed her arms, standing up to meet his eyes. “The recent body was found on a hiking trail. That’s basically begging for someone to find it. This one was secluded and basically buried by the other trees. Possibly to hide it, which would make more sense for satanists, or because it’s been here so long that the elements grew around it. Both would indicate a different killer. Then, there’s the fact that the wax is new and was probably left after the second killing, not the first, so why leave it by the first body? And, as I said about the carving in the tree, if that was a message, they wouldn’t have waited for so long between kills and if it’s just part of the ritual, we would’ve found another one by the other body.”

He raised his eyebrow and Lydia waited for someone to argue with her, but he simply said, “Not bad.”

She let go of a tension she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Does L-O-D mean anything to you?” he asked Reid.

“Uh-uh,” he denied. “I don’t know of any significance in satanism, either.”

“Well, I’d have Garcia research this ‘LOD’ thing, if I could get a call out,” JJ admitted, frustrated.

“Not much of a chance of that out here,” Sheriff Bridges informed her.

“Are there any cults in the area that you know about?” Gideon asked. “Secret groups? People you see you don’t know much about? People who stay to themselves mostly?”

“This is a very religious area. Church on Sundays, fellowship of Wednesday, bible classes. If there was a secret group, I’d probably know about it.”

This made Reid laugh, and a cute smile tugged at his cheeks. “That’s an inherent contradiction.”

“Excuse me?”

Gideon stepped in. “He means if there was a group being secretive, you probably wouldn’t know.”

Sheriff didn’t take that one too well, but Gideon listened patiently as he argued that it couldn’t be someone from his town. Then, he instructed them to head back up to the trail where the other body was found.

“Find anything interesting down there?” Hotch asked as the four of them approached.

“Yeah, it does look like some kind of ritual site,” Gideon admitted. “Although Ambers has got some theories to suggest otherwise.”

The unit chief looked hesitant, but decided not to ask about them.

“Have any of you heard the expression ‘lod’ or the acronym L-O-D?” Reid asked as Elle helped him up the hill.

“Not me,” Elle responded and Morgan looked like he was about to agree before the whole team was distracted by a woman shouting.

“Cherish?” she cried, running up the hill. “Cherish?”

She was blonde and in her mid-forties. She was clearly distraught, trying to walk straight onto the scene, but the deputy held her back.

“Sheriff Bridges!” she shouted, still trying to push past the deputy.

“It’s okay, Harris. Let her in,” the sheriff said.

“Was Adam Loyd killed out here?” she demanded as she ducked the yellow tape.

“Who told you that, Veronica?”

“Was he?” she tried again. The sheriff tried to calm her, but she just interrupted him. “My daughter was with him. They were out running together this morning. Oh my god, and I can’t find her,” she started to ramble. “Cherish is missing. Cherish is missing! Help me, please!”

And finally, she broke down into sobs.

~ ~ ~

“What’s the protocol for murder turned missing persons case?” Lydia inquired as she followed Gideon around the trail.

“Well, you were right about one thing,” Gideon replied. “It’s not ritual satanism. We’ll build our profile after the search, but it’s starting to look like a killer cult.”

“Multiple unsubs. Easier to kill the guy and kidnap the girl. You think these people were targeted?”

“It’s possible. Cults aren’t usually prone to crimes of opportunity. They normally kill people as part of their message.”

“So, are the carvings and wax part of their message or are they trying to throw us off the scent?”

“Guess we’ll find out when we have more evidence,” he retorted. “Hey Hotch!”

They’d looped back to the site and Gideon immediately made a beeline for Agent Hotchner. Lydia was a few steps behind and missed whatever Gideon had said to him, but she could see his disapproval.

“Gideon,” he warned. “We talked about this.”

She caught up, standing next to her mentor.

“Ambers, you’ll be with Gideon during the search. Make sure the exercise doesn’t kill him.”

She smiled. “Yes, sir.”

Once he was gone and she was alone with Gideon once more, she turned on him. “What was that about?”

“I got into trouble after your first case,” he admitted. “The condition was that I would be in charge of you and make sure you weren’t making the FBI look bad.”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No. But I’m not supposed to let you go off on your own. During your first case, I put you in charge of going down to forensics and looking for DNA while none of the team was present and then I let you take a vehicle by yourself to work with Hotch. You did good work,” he promised her, “but if something goes wrong, Hotch’s ass is on the line, just as much as mine or yours is.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “This is by no means your fault. I just want to give you more opportunities to work with the things you’re good at instead of following me around like a lost dog. My goal is to get our boss to realize you’re an asset to the team, but how am I supposed to do that if you aren’t allowed to make calls sometimes?”

“An asset…?” she asked. “Gideon, I’m just a forensic scientist. Barely that, I’m a crime scene technician. My job is to pick up things that look weird and put them in bags.”

“But you could do so much more,” he argued. “You were a chemistry major. You were at the same level as Reid down there and he’s got 3 PhDs. At the Crawford house on our last case, you were setting up the victimology with us. And like you said, that’s not your job. You record evidence, you don’t analyze it. Especially not in a big picture scenario. But today, you looked at the few photos we had and already determined that ritual killing didn’t make sense. I think you’re a wonderful addition to the team.”

Lydia tried to shake her head with disagreement, but another thought came to mind. “What did you just ask Hotch, then?”

“I wanted you to be in charge of one of the search parties.”

She laughed. “Really? What good would that do?”

“The more groups, the less people for each of us to profile. I thought we could trust you with it, but Hotch is still unsure.”

“No kidding. Gideon, I’m an intern. I appreciate the thought, but I really am okay with just… learning from you. Going to the scene and bagging the things you tell me to.”

Gideon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re too smart to be quiet for that long. You’d break sooner or later and begin to explain your theories. Might as well just let you get it out from the start.”

“Maybe that’s best,” she agreed. “But I know I’m not an agent. Feel free to tell me if I step out of line.”

“Do you want to be an agent?” he inquired.

“I just wanna look at crime scenes,” she explained, failing not to smile. “I don’t need the gun or the badge. I doubt I’d be any good at being an agent. Not that I’d flat out deny the opportunity, but it’s not exactly my dream.”

“Well, I think you’d be a good interrogator.”

This was news to her. “What?! I’m not exactly intimidating.”

“No, but interrogating suspects can go many ways. It’s all just a show. Sometimes we want an unsub to be so comfortable they forget they’re being watched and they slip up. Sometimes we want to put them on edge and make them think that confessing is the best option. And you’re a good actor from what I’ve seen.”

“What have you seen?” she challenged.

“To start, you claim that you hide your anger issues very well.”

She nodded.

“And you still won’t tell me what you were up to this morning when I texted you.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why you care! It didn’t make me late and it hasn’t affected the case!”

“When Garcia told you she was going to do a background check on you, you said you didn’t have any secrets,” he responded.

“Fine. I was on a call with my sister. That’s all. Now tell me why it matters to you!”

This put a stop to the pace of their conversation. He gave her his profiling look for the second time that day and said, “It went bad, huh?”

“My sister and I always seem to be at each other’s necks… it went as well as I suspected.”

Gideon swallowed. “I ask because I care about you, Lydia. Tell me about your sister.”

Her breath hitched. He wanted to just… talk now? Gideon had just decided to be her friend?

She felt guilty for questioning his motives, but the suspicious nature in her won. “We can talk about my family when we aren’t working a case.”

He didn’t seem surprised by her answer, but as he left, she noticed that he was definitely disappointed.

~ ~ ~

Lydia sighed, looking over the note Elle had brought in after the search had wrapped up. She dusted it for fingerprints, but the thing was such a mess, having been written in charcoal, that if there were any, they would have been smeared beyond belief.

The corner was covered in blood, which Lydia would have tested, if it weren’t for the fact that the note claimed Cherish Hanson, their missing victim, would be sacrificed that evening. The team didn’t have time for her to take it to a lab and if they did, it would mean pulling Gideon from work to monitor her… she was starting to see why he thought this mentoring thing was frustrating.

So, she sat in the station and listened to them give a profile while she mindlessly looked over the photos and evidence they had to see if she got any brilliant ideas.

Sheriff Bridges’s son, Cory, was present for the profile, although Lydia wasn’t entirely sure why, and as the team finished up their description of the unsub, he was the first to speak up, admitting that he knew someone who fit the profile.

They wrapped up the meeting and took Cory to a private room to discuss the kid he thought was responsible. It hadn’t even been five minutes before the team was filing back out, and towards the door of the station.

“Drop what you’re doing, Ambers,” Gideon ordered.

She jumped up, running out of the station behind them. “What’s going on?”

“Kid named Mike Zizzo. He’s got a place where his group, the ‘Lord’s of Destruction’, hang out. We’re going to raid it, once we’ve got the teenagers cleared, I want you to sweep for evidence.”

“Got it.”

Gideon let her slide into an SUV with Hotch, Morgan, and Reid, before closing the door behind her, shutting himself out. “I’m not going on the raid.”

Hotch stuck his head out of the open window. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know, yet,” Gideon replied and walked off. He was following a girl. A high schooler who had been at the search with them.

“Gideon, you can’t just-” he started and Lydia saw him glance at her in the rearview mirror. She knew for a fact that if she hadn’t been there, Hotch would have let him do whatever he pleased. But Gideon was gone.

Frustrated, Hotch rolled up the window and drove off.

Lydia hoped it wasn’t her. In fact, she knew it wasn’t her. Hotch was very rule-oriented and Gideon was putting him on edge. But she felt so bad.

“Sorry that you’re stuck babysitting me,” she mumbled as they hit the road.

Reid glanced at Lydia and Morgan turned to Hotch, both of them unsure what interaction had just taken place. For the second time, Lydia made eye contact with the unit chief in his mirror.

“What did Gideon tell you?” he sighed, guilt evident in his voice.

“That we were getting you in trouble.” Lydia made her voice as light as possible so that Hotch knew she wasn’t totally serious, but she felt weird bringing it up around the others. She wasn’t sure how close they all were yet. Maybe if she spoke about the tension between Hotch and Gideon right now it would spread around the office like a fire and Hotch would be dealing with rumors on top of everything else.

“I’m going to be honest, Lydia,” he said, automatically making her nervous. “I like you. I think you’re very talented. But I’m starting to wonder if you’ve got some kind of spell on Gideon, because he takes every opportunity to insist that I should demand that Strauss give you a full-time job and I… I don’t know you that well yet.”

“That’s totally fine,” she told him. “I don’t… need a job. I promise I had no idea he even wanted me on the team until today.”

“Dang Hotch,” Morgan spoke up. “Did you really think Lydia was manipulating Gideon? I doubt she’s capable of it.” He turned around from the passenger’s seat and gave her a smile.

“Thanks? But I get it. It’s not ‘cause he doesn’t like me… I mean, I hope not,” she joked. “I’m just… more trouble than I’m worth.”

“I think Gideon’s right.” It was Spencer this time. “You’d be a good addition to the team.”

She sent him a smile, but he wasn’t looking directly at her, so she had to wonder if he saw it.

“We’ll talk about it if she doesn’t get me fired before the end of the year,” Hotch agreed, pulling up to an old house and parking outside. There were clearly a lot of people inside, music was blasting and their shadows haunted the windows. “Stay in the car until I give you the okay to enter the building,” he instructed, turning around to look directly at Lydia.

“Yes, sir.”

The two younger agents started to hop out, guns at their sides, leaving her alone with Hotch.

“Thank you for being understanding,” he said softly, then jumped out of the car himself.

Lydia leaned back against the car seat. He didn’t hate her. And Morgan and Reid didn’t argue about her joining the team officially either. It was immensely relieving. But her relaxed state quickly retreated as she reminded herself not to get her hopes up.

The commotion in the house took a few minutes to die down after the agents and deputies rushed in. They had the kids leave in a line, the deputies surrounding them on all sides to make sure they didn’t try to pull any stunts as they left, but everyone there just looked disappointed and perhaps embarrassed they’d been caught.

Morgan escorted out Zizzo in handcuffs, Elle on his tail to help get him into one of the vehicles. Then Hotch stepped outside and waved Lydia in.

She grabbed a pair of gloves and ran up, dodging the darkly dressed, metal covered teens, and followed Hotch.

The place looked as much the same inside as it did out. The walls were covered in graffiti, but it was very artistic. Whoever had set the place up took a lot of care in their work, nothing like the chicken scratch on the note Elle found or on the tree in the woods. The tables were covered in candles, most of them a deep red. And tons of creepy statuettes of goat heads and caricatured satans.

“Gideon claims you’re good at analyzing a scene,” Hotch admitted. “What are your thoughts?”

Lydia glanced at him hesitantly. “Well… my first thought is that I love the wooden arched doorway. And my second thought is that if Zizzo set up this house, he’s not our guy.”

Hotch tried not to look surprised. “And you say that because…”

“Because it may be uh… devil worship?” she said, for lack of a better word. “But it’s really nice looking. All those kids just want to defy their super religious parents and he’s made this place feel comfortable for them. They get to enjoy the cool art and decorations, drink some beer, hang out with friends. That’s normal teen stuff. The person who snatched a cheerleader from a hiking trail and killed her boyfriend wouldn’t care about these people.”

“Maybe he only cares for the people in his ‘in’ group,” he suggested.

Lydia shrugged. “Maybe? But it sounds like these kids drift in and out. I mean, Cory was invited once and he never mentioned any sort of initiation. They didn’t make him prove his loyalty. I bet they just offered him a beer and left him to his own devices.”

He didn’t respond to that, simply started walking to the door, the last of the kids finally having been escorted out. “I’m going to leave you here with Reid and Morgan. Search the place from top to bottom. A girl’s life is at stake.”

“Will do!” she called to him, watching his form disappear out of the door.

When she turned around she almost jumped at the sight of Dr. Reid’s approaching figure.

“He left you with us,” Reid mentioned, curiously.

“He must trust you guys not to let me fuck up,” Lydia informed him. “Sorry you got passed the babysitting hat.”

“Don’t apologize,” he told her, stepping away to look at the building around them. “I’m curious to see what you find.”

The last of the deputies began to file out and Morgan eventually ended up joining the two of them as Lydia ransacked all the drawers and cabinets she could find.

~ ~ ~

After about an hour, the last of the deputies had to leave to give a report to the sheriff, meaning the three BAU members were left without a car in the woods with no cell signal.

The two boys had gone outside to see the last deputy off and Lydia was just finishing up her work. The house was so dusty she was starting to think she could drown in all the thick air. But so far, she found nothing incriminating except all the satanist propaganda.

She kicked around the rugs on the floor of the opening room, searching for loose boards or any obvious evidence underneath them, when she heard Reid’s muffled voice say, “You had no right, man!”

She turned her head abruptly, stopping what she was doing to listen to the altercation outside.

“I- I confided in you. This is- You know, this is exactly what I get when I trust someone. It gets thrown back in my face.” He seemed distraught and Lydia had to fight her want to go ask what was wrong with the knowledge that Morgan was probably better to handle this situation.

“Mine started six months after I got into the BAU,” Morgan replied. Silence. “Yeah… Mine.”

She dropped down to search the wooden floorboards once more, but she couldn’t block out their conversation as she worked. She silently hoped that they wouldn’t come back in and find her eavesdropping on what appeared to be a very personal conversation.

Morgan started a story on one of his earlier cases as an agent. People getting strangled in Montana. He felt guilty for not starting a profile until after another death appeared, because he wanted to use it to confirm his theories. He started to have nightmares about the last victim, who died because he waited for the unsub to make their next move.

“What did you do?” Spencer asked.

“Gideon,” was Morgan’s reply. “He knew. I didn’t tell him. I was like you. I didn’t want anybody to know. He just… he knew.”

Lydia could feel a melancholy wash through her stomach as she realized that Reid was clearly going through something. And once more that was replaced by guilt as she realized she shouldn’t know that about Reid without his consent. She was just thinking about interrupting them, so she wasn’t subject to more of their secrets when Morgan said something that made her freeze in her spot.

“You think the team won’t understand? Take Lydia in there, for instance. Do you think she doesn’t see her roommate every time she shuts her eyes? To be honest, I don’t think I would have taken this job immediately after what she went through.”

There was an emptiness in her, consuming her and pulling her from her work. She really had tried to avoid thinking about Jenna at all costs. But it was difficult when her death was the reason Lydia had met the team in the first place.

“It’s been months,” Reid reasoned.

“Time means nothing when you lose someone like that. It will eat away at her for the rest of her life.”

Their conversation was put on pause when the sound of a car engine approached, coming to a rough stop outside the house.

“Did you find her? Cherish?” It sounded like Cory’s voice and Lydia stood up, wiping a tear with the inside of her arm before making her way to the door.

“No.”

“Did Zizzo say anything?”

“We don’t know. We’ve been here the whole time,” Morgan informed him.

Lydia stepped out of the house, trying to ignore the concerned look Reid gave her as she jumped off the porch and instead found herself almost running into the pacing teenager.

He stopped, looking shocked to see someone else there, and his gaze lingered on her gloved hands for a moment too long.

“Cory, calm down,” Reid instructed.

“How am I supposed to calm down? Cherish is missing. Did you check all over?” he demanded, trying to push past Lydia and get into the house himself.

“We searched the whole house,” Reid confirmed.

“It’s clean,” Lydia agreed.

“What about the outbuilding?”

“Outbuilding?” Morgan repeated almost immediately.

“Did you check the other area? Back in the woods?”

“I didn’t know there was another area,” Morgan said.

“Yeah, it’s like a- like a sluice structure or something. He took me there once. It’s this way,” the kid rambled before taking off into the trees.

Lydia raised an eyebrow at Morgan who shrugged, then said, “Let’s go.”

~ ~ ~

The hike was brutal. Lydia was starting to feel the weight of the day wearing down on her as she followed the boys farther into the woods.

“It’s up here,” Cory called back to the group. “This is their secret place.”

That was sketchy to Lydia. A secret place on top of their already secret place?

Morgan pulled out his flashlight, scanning the walls in search of anything suspicious. And he definitely found it. A pentagram and the initials LOD were painted on the side of the building, same handwriting, same red paint.

He insisted that they stay put until he had searched the outside of the house. He knelt down and waved his light underneath the building, which was elevated so that it was level to the side of the mountain. Then, once he was sure that no one was nearby, he nodded for Lydia to follow him and they made their way up the stairs to the front of the building. 

Faintly, she heard Reid start talking to Cory, but couldn’t make out much other than the stress in the boy’s voice.

The door was shut, but Morgan didn’t even bother opening it, because the windows along the sides were large enough to step through and no longer had any glass coverings. He stepped inside first, sweeping the light in search of anyone in the room, then stepped out of the way for Lydia to follow.

And there she was. Poor Cherish Hanson, her skin all blue with a bloody rats nest for hair. She was long gone.

Lydia could see Morgan shaking his head, so she reached out and grabbed the flashlight from him. “You can go tell them. I’ll do a quick sweep of the scene and head right out.”

He nodded, but there was something in his eyes that made Lydia nervous. He seemed startled by the girl’s appearance, but after years on the job, she doubted that could be.

“Is she in there? Is she alright?” Cory demanded, the minute Derek had left.

Lydia shut them out for a minute, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but the place was long abandoned. The only places where the dust layer had been disturbed were around the door up to where the body had been left. But that was understandable, seeing as Cherish was likely killed while on her run and dragged up the mountainside. This killer was athletic alright.

Still, she kicked around the leaves on the ground for a minute to look for something out of place and gently looked over Cherish’s body for anything out of the ordinary.

There was a lot more to her murder than her boyfriend’s. The killer clearly didn’t expect her to be with Adam and had to hit her multiple times to ensure she was dead. The blood trailed down the side of her face and across her chest. But if there was anything to gain from the little details she had, she didn’t know what it was.

Seeing as the unsub had clearly used the door to bring the girl in, Lydia used it to leave and caught Cory’s attention as he spoke to Morgan.

“-because of that, we also gotta look for someone who might try to put himself right in the middle of an investigation so that he can influence things,” Morgan was telling the high schooler which suddenly struck Lydia as odd. Gideon had been insistent that the unsub would be on one of the search parties, for the same reasons Morgan was explaining to Cory, but Zizzo definitely wasn’t.

She removed her gloves and another thing occurred to her. Reid wasn’t there. She started down the stairs to ask Morgan where he’d gone, but Morgan didn’t stay there long enough for her to say anything and instead got closer to Cory.

“Especially if he knows exactly what it is that we’re looking for.”

She froze, her eyes fixated on the pair. Did Morgan think Cory had done this? It didn’t exactly fit their ‘killer cult’ profile from earlier.

Cory pushed away from the tree and instead stepped towards the building. “You mean, me?”

He faked innocence well, but Lydia could tell in that moment that he was panicking.

“That was more than just a lucky guess, wasn’t it?” Morgan asked, not yet realizing that Lydia had wandered outside or that Cory was slowly inching closer to her.

“I knew about the building,” he agreed.

“You also knew about Zizzo. And the satanism.”

Finally, he faced the two of them and realized the predicament Lydia was in. Cory had placed himself between her and Morgan, meaning if he got violent, Lydia was unarmed and Morgan couldn’t get to her.

And Lydia knew it, too. She made eye contact with the agent, hoping he would be able to signal to her what to do, but he hadn’t thought that much through. Sending Reid away was easy enough, but he had relied on the hope that Lydia would spend longer looking for evidence.

“I was only trying to help,” Cory argued.

“Well, you did that,” Morgan replied. Lydia saw him beckoning her forward with his hand at his side, hoping that if she could just get close enough, he could pull her out of harm's way. “We couldn’t have found this place without you.”

Once she took her first step off the stairs, Cory realized what she was doing. Before she could process what was happening, he had wrapped an arm around her neck and a gun was pressed into her left cheek.

Both the boys were yelling at her, she realized, but still failed to process what they were saying. Her hands were out in front of her defensively and she realized that Morgan had pulled his gun on Cory, but couldn’t shoot while she was in the way.

“Hey, Morgan,” Reid called, his voice coming from down the hill. “No one’s up there-”

“Reid,” he warned and the doctor froze at the sight before him, also whipping out his gun.

“This got all messed up,” Cory grumbled and Lydia couldn’t help but scoff.

“Clearly.” He pushed the barrel more firmly against her face, trying to increase the pressure. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Morgan said.

“She wasn’t supposed to be with him. It was his run. He runs it every day, not her!”

“Cory, listen to me. We can fix this. But you gotta let Lydia go.”

“I never meant to hurt Cherish. But make no mistake, I will shoot your girl, right now.”

“No, you won’t.”

He awkwardly tightened his grasp on her to cock the gun. “Tempt not a desperate man,” he threatened. “Put the gun down!”

“Okay. All right.” Morgan turned his wrist so that his gun was facing another way and slowly  lowered it. “You win.”

“Drop it. Drop the gun!”

“Ok. Ok! You win! I’m putting the gun down.”

He did as he said and after some hesitation, Reid did the same.

“You’re in control, Cory. Let her go.”

As Morgan argued with him, Lydia remembered her talk with Gideon that afternoon about having her questioning suspects. He told her that the profile would help them determine how to get an unsub to slip up. So, what did she know about Cory?

He was terrified. He’d really thought that his plan to frame Zizzo was foolproof. He hadn’t thought this far ahead and, by that logic, he wasn’t thinking about what he’d do if he made it out of this.

“What are you going to do, Cory?” Lydia said, steadily. “Shoot the three of us and then what? Skip town?”

“Shut up!” Her lips had been squished so far to the side of her face by the gun that she was barely understandable.

“I’d rather not. But listen, I’m gonna give you some advice. You’ll have to ditch the car and fast. It’s really nice, but it doesn’t blend in well. Switching the plates only gets you so far.”

“I said, be quiet! I will shoot you!”

“How do you plan to make money?” she inquired, still not listening to him. “You’re kinda screwed there. And I’d feel bad for you, but… you did kill two of your friends and are planning to kill me and two of my friends so the sympathy only goes so far.”

Morgan spoke up once more. “You’re just a horny kid who wanted to get rid of the cheerleader’s boyfriend.”

“No!” Suddenly, Cory’s anger was targeted back at him and Lydia felt his hand shaking, the gun relaxing then being pushed once more against her face.

“That was never my intent-” he started, as multiple things happened at once.

The gun was removed from her cheek in an instant and as he flung his arm towards Morgan, his grip across her chest loosened enough for her to extend an arm out and grab his left hand. Morgan took the distraction to run at him, knocking them both back against the stairs and Lydia struggled to keep Cory’s arm pointed away from them.

He got off one shot into the forest floor before she could grapple it away from him and she rolled off the stairs, hitting the ground painfully, to get out of Morgan’s way.

Morgan got in a solid punch across the face, leaving Cory with a bloody mouth and not much energy to fight back. And by that point, Reid had reclaimed his gun and had it trained on the boy as Morgan handcuffed him.

“You all right?” Reid asked, looking away from Cory and Morgan for a moment to watch her get up.

“Yep,” she replied. Her voice was strained after taking such a hard fall, but she didn’t seem upset. She brushed herself off and looked over her scraped up palms. “I did just get tackled by Morgan, though.”

The older man shook his head, pulling Cory up off the stairs. “You’re welcome, Lydia.”

~ ~ ~

Gideon sat against the back of one of the police cars, watching Reid and Lydia give their accounts of what happened to Hotch and Sheriff Bridges separately. Lydia was clearly exhausted, her clothes were covered in dirt, and there was a lack of patience in her face, but Gideon was proud of her.

As he stared, Morgan approached beside him, also leaning against the car.

“I see it now,” he said quietly, so only Gideon could hear. “Why you like her so much.”

“Do you?”

Morgan sighed. “Your girl had a gun pressed so forcefully against her cheek she could barely talk, but her voice betrayed no fear. I don’t think even you or Hotch could be that calm in a crisis. She didn’t talk at a fast pace or stutter on a single word. It was unbelievable.” 

“When we questioned her about her roommate,” Gideon explained, “she seemed guilty to Reid and I. I said something insensitive to her to see how she’d react, maybe give something away. Her anger only revealed to me a recognition in her eyes. I realized that she’d been here before. Questioned mercilessly. Accused. And suddenly I was the guilty one. So, I tried to switch tactics, but before I could, she was apologizing to me. She said she’d always had some anger management issues and told me that she’d calm herself down so that we could continue the investigation.

“Have you ever seen that before? She’d just lost her best friend and was more concerned about our case than she was her feelings. I knew right then her heart was twice the size of an average FBI agent. I don’t know what that sort of compartmentalizing does to her. I’m still trying to find out. But from where I stand, she looks like she’s capable of saving a lot of people.”

Morgan sucked in his lips, in contemplation. “All right. How do we let her do that?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia followed the team back inside, expecting to be given some paperwork for the case before she could go back to her apartment, but Gideon stopped her as she stepped into the bullpen.

“Lydia, you should really go home. I’ll handle anything you need to do.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gideon, please don’t think I’m freaked out after what happened today. I can handle myself, I promise.”

“I trust you,” he said, genuinely. “But you’re clearly exhausted and you’ve just started graduate school if I remember correctly.”

She nodded and had to stifle a yawn in order to not prove him right so blatantly.

“Go home. Get some rest. You didn’t sleep the whole plane ride. I’ll drop all your paperwork off tomorrow morning. Or, if you’d prefer, we could have a cup of coffee during my lunch break and you can tell me about your phone call with your sister,” he suggested.

Lydia blinked, but it was such an innocent and friendly suggestion she couldn’t help herself from saying, “That sounds great,” and watching him walk off.

Over the course of just one day, a lot had been revealed to her about Gideon. The rest of the team trusted him so much. And after finding out he’d gone to bat for her in order to get her this job, she really couldn’t say no.

She came back to her senses after a second to watch Reid walk past her towards the elevator.

“Oh! Dr. Reid!” she called, suddenly. 

He turned around, a look of utter surprise dawning on his features. “Yes?”

“How exactly do you plan to help me get my PhD in three years?” she inquired.

She’d been thinking about it a lot, now that she had begun her online courses. And everything about it seemed quite appealing, although she still couldn’t reasonably explain why. If she really was going to take this path, she knew she had to do it as fast as possible in order to save money, because she could barely afford the master’s degree she’d long since planned to get.

He smiled and Lydia couldn’t stop herself from smiling back just from seeing the look on his face. His presence was frankly a very welcome one, now that she’d gotten to know him better these past two cases and she found herself drawn into whatever he had to say.

“With my help, make it two,” he said, confidently and the two of them made their way to the elevator together. “Although, if I’m going to help you, I’d much rather you call me Spencer.”

“Spencer.” The name left an interesting feeling in her mouth, being attributed now to genius beside her. “Alright. As long as you’re okay with that.”

And he didn’t respond. Not because he wasn’t, or else he wouldn’t have suggested it. But just hearing her say his name so softly made his stomach do a flip… and he couldn’t understand why.

#criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds oc #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #untouchable #untouchable ch4 #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #lydia ambers #derek morgan #jason gideon #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau

[satannedtrash]

a new year’s resolution | qian kun

summary: where you go out with friends to welcome in the new year, but you never expected to welcome something - or rather, someone - else.

pairing: qian kun x reader

word count: 3.3k/3365 words

genre: fluff. just fluff. pure fluff

format: dot points (still not experienced enough yet :|)

warnings: none unless mild to moderate swearing and total drunks aren’t your thing (also not edited oh dear) (and ooc kun cuz i suck at this ok)

author’s note: tHIS WAS MEANT TO BE FINISHED LAST WEEK BUT STUFF CAME UP SO IT’S HELLA LATE AAA but anyway at first i wasn’t entirely sure what member to write about, but then i remembered how sm didn’t even release a happy birthday post to kun (jan 1). so i thought that i can dedicate this to kun. happy (extremely belated) birthday to the butter-for-our-ears vocalist, angel and mum, kun! (also y/f/n means your friend’s name)

EDIT: just realised there was a whole section missing (i realised after a month because i didn’t want to read back on this - thing - until now) and without it the oneshot didn’t flow, so i added it in. hope it all clears things up!

11:19 pm

before this story starts imma explain sum stuff

first of all: bless kun

second of all: appreciate kun

third of all: say happy birthday to kun

oh and this is an au where the nct members aren’t idols so don’t expect to see saesangs or fans with their cameras out taking a photo of every move they make being mentioned in here

aaand i’m rambling so with that out of the way lez go

laughing at a friend’s joke, you lifted your right hand which held your phone, causing the screen to turn on

“gEEz okay then”

the bright, white light emitted from it shocked your eyes, making you blink furiously

when you could finally see without being partially blinded, you quickly checked the time and placed your phone face-down next to you

“what’s the time?” y/f/n asked, chin on your shoulder

not bothered to check again, you just say “11:19” and then leaned your head on theirs

“can you believe that 2018 is ending?”

“yep. this year sucked for me so i’m down for it to end”

“always looking forward, huh?”

you shifted your gaze from the city skyline to your friend. “have to. can’t afford to stick to the past”

pouting, y/f/n was about to respond when you lifted your head and stopped leaning back on your arms to sit upright

“besides, we gotta enjoy tonight, instead of moping around.” here, you noticed your friend eyeing the beers nearby you and sighed heavily. guess i need to be chaperone for the night

well considering that the rest of your friends and their friends were wasted might as well make sure they don’t mess the docks up

as you handed the bottle to your friend, their expression brightened as they snatched it from you

well damn aren’t they excited to get drunk

wait it’s not even 11:30 yet and we’re still going to a bar nearby after the fireworks wat

“er, shouldn’t you wait till after midnight to drink?”

“nah m8 tis the best time to have some”

(i have just realised that the vibe of this went from serious storytelling to a memey laidback sorta thing damn it)

(oh well i’ll roll with it)

not knowing what to do now that there wasn’t much to talk about, you brought out your earphones and decided to listen to some music to pass the time

calming music, such as a song with nine glorious men singing and some bed squeaking in the background

(i’ll let you guess what song i’m talking about)

you let your head bop to the song as you looked out to the sea port twenty metres in front of you, watching the dark waters ripple

11:48 pm

the next time you turned on your phone to see how many minutes left you had become a third wheeler

quite the strong third wheeler might i add

a few moments after the first song you were listening to finished, your good friend yuta had joined you and y/f/n because his other friends were “too rowdy”

but as soon as he saw the bottles he said “gimme”

so you were sitting there (barbecue sauce on my-) with two just barely sober adults acting like complete children

you had to wrestle out of y/f/n’s koala hug around your waist and escape yuta’s chin noogie to grab your phone

“oh for fuck’s sake” father why have you foresaken me

when you finished preparing yourself for another possible 27 minutes of torture, you turned around to see yuta and y/f/n throwing themselves at each other, singing like magpies

“wE wIsh yOU A mErrY chrIstmAsssss aNd a hAppY nEw yeeeEeAArr!!1!” they then took the opportunity to laugh, squeal and kiss the hecc out of each other’s cheeks

you knew that your friend was absolute shit at singing, but yuta was a whole different story good lord

you thought he was good???

maybe just when he hasn’t had a few drinks

you stared at the two dolphins then promptly stood up and sat down behind them because you had to make sure they didn’t do anything more than whatever the hell this was

not like it could get any worse

you could feel the gazes of pity the others were sending you, but frankly you didn’t care

before, you couldn’t wait for the new year to come, but now you were more eager than ever

someone please save my poor soul

11:59 pm

“yEEEE BOI a minute left!”

eleven minutes have passed and the final 60 seconds of the year were being counted down

you were less excited for the new year and more excited for the end of your chaperoning being closer

all you had to do was get through the firework display, watch the adorable couple in front of you until the bar and let them do what they want (there were sure to be other friends who were willing to let them join in)

it seemed like a simple, solid plan! :D

before you knew it, yuta and y/f/n had already started counting down from 15, so might as well start now

“13, 12, 11, 10...”

you took a glance at y/f/n, who grinned back at you and threw their arm around your shoulder

“7, 6, 5, 4, 3...” here we go

“1 - happy new year!!”

it was at this moment you realised that your eardrums were incapable of tolerating the two dolphins beside you

sINCE WHEN WAS YUTA ABLE TO SCREAM THAT LOUD AND HIGH THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE

yay to starting the new year with loud friends screaming like there’s no tomorrow amiright

you had trouble focusing on the fireworks to the point you could only hear most of the big ones

that’s how hard it was to be next to them but oh well

marvelling at the city skyline, the fireworks seeming like entirely new stars, you began having very deep thoughts

the typical ones, such as “ what will 2019 bring?”, “what will i be like by the end of the year?” and “will i be happy with someone?”

you had asked the exact same things when 2017 shifted to 2018 and found that you actually had an answer for all of them

2018 brought some crappy stuff but also some good stuff to balance that out

you were still sort of the same, because every time something major came up you only changed a bit then went back to normal

and you weren’t with anyone yet, which you had expected

but a little birdy on your shoulder said, “then get with someone in 2019! make it a new year’s resolution!”

your eyebrows furrowed at the thought, but you decided to focus on the sky for now

because since when did you ever make or follow new year’s resolutions?

12:16 am

“12:16 okay then”

turns out you didn’t consider the walk to the bar part of your chaperoning

by the time the display ended, yuta and y/f/n could walk, but not without wobbling and intense laughter

so guess who had to make sure they could at least make the trip to the bar?

“um, are you sure you don’t want to go home yet?” 

“nah, i caan’t, my sister was meaant to be at home-!”- y/f/n stumbled a bit but you caught them before they fell - “-but she’s not, and i can’t beeee home by myselfff”

no wonder

here, you were struggling to keep the both of them propped up as you walked along the road, so there was bound to be a slip up

“you should’ve seen their face! haHA-!” yuta laughed a little too hard and nearly fell over his own feet, prompting you to panic and scramble to keep him from falling to the ground

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit-!”

but you didn’t need to because someone else already beat you to it!

sighing in relief, you looked up to see none other than the great qian kun putting yuta’s arm around his shoulder

he looked over to you gaping at him and smiled that warm smile that looked like it was sculpted by the gods

wow he looks great in this lighting

you were always attracted to kun, ever since you two began talking after stopping a full blown war between doyoung and ten

he appeared so soft and kind to you and you two seemed to have a lot in common

so naturally you hit it off

because who doesn’t love kun? :D

“you’re welcome?” oh shit i didn’t just stare at him for that long did i

“oh - sorry - thanks for that” nice going there y/n you idiot

kun just chuckled and hefted his drunk friend as he started walking, you doing the same

it became comfortably silent as your group made their way down the street and turned left into a reasonably sized bar, which as surprisingly not that busy

you set y/f/n down on a chair that thankfully had a tall enough back to keep them up and sat down next to them, exhaling

kun patted yuta’s back and went to sit down next to you

laying your head on the counter, you thought of striking up a conversation with kun

so, instead of saying things like “happy new year”, “thanks for helping me” or even “they’re hard to deal with anyway”, you just said “woah.”

yEAH AGAIN NICE GOING THERE Y/N

“‘woah’? what’s ‘woah’?” he responded, taking on a teasing, motherly tone

you could hear the grin in his voice

you panicked and stammered some illegible words before you could actually speak

“i meant like, woah, that was exhausting, they made things real hard and all that…”

then you thought of something brilliant

you took out your phone and googled “woah”, only to find that it wasn’t spelled w-o-a-h but instead meant to be w-h-o-a

you frowned but typed “whoa meaning” instead and showed the definition to kun

all the while still laying on the mahogany-coloured counter

to your surprise, he rolled his eyes, laughed and ruffled your hair

“that was a really bad joke but you’re lucky i have the same sense of humor” his laugh was infectious so you had to smile

then he asked, “are you okay? not too tired?”

sitting up, you put your phone back in your pocket

“nah, my arms just ache, but it’s fine.” your polite smile suddenly grew into a wide smirk. “thanks for worrying, mum”

“i’m not a mum!” his expression made you have the sudden urge to burst into endless chuckles

in the corner of your eye, you could see ten, doyoung and johnny elbowing each other, pointing at you and kun and singing “kiss the girl”

you then had the sudden urge to throw some hands

kun (obviously) overheard them and sighed

“why are they like this”

“i wish i knew”

you and kun talked some more, random topics like how uni was going for you, how his singing was, how your book was going, all that jazz

with some playful banter and the occasional jokes that made you laugh so hard your back hurt

“kun loving puns and dad jokes? a coincidence?”

“i only laugh at them to make you feel better!”

“gasp! how dare you!”

“only joking, y/n!”

while you two giggled, y/f/n suddenly turned to you and said, “i think yuta and i will be fine here…”

you stopped and looked back at them, concerned

“you sure?”

“we’ll just go sit with the boys over there-!” a hiccup. “-it’ll be fine!” then, it hit you

is this bitch trying to play matchmaker 

you grumbled “i’m not sure…” but then kun spoke up

“yeah, sure, that’s fine,” when you gave him a quizzical look, he added on, “as much as i don’t trust johnny, doyoung and ten, at least it’s not just the two of them?”

he phrased it as a question instead of a statement, his voice getting higher by each word spoken

you pondered over this

well, he’s not wrong

you exhaled in defeat, saying “fine, go ahead”

y/f/n grinned at you and gave a knowing wink before dragging yuta over to the three boys

two of whom were busy flirting to each other and the other one third wheeling

you raised your eyebrows up and down at them before turning back to kun, who was looking outside

“so,” you started, causing him to look at you, “are you sure you want yuta and y/f/n wreaking havoc with those three?” you nodded in the group’s direction

kun stayed silent for a bit, then said “yeah, i’m sure. it kinda looked like you needed a break from them.”

“true. there’s only so much you can take.” kun chuckled at that and looked outside again

it went silent, but in stark contrast to the vibe of the walk leading to the bar, it was very awkward

too awkward to handle

so you took the opportunity to debate with yourself whether or not you should study kun

damn what if he looks at me though i’m not really risking that

but how can you not look at him? and what’s there to talk about?

it’s not worth the embarrassment

look-

no

at-

no

him 

you were about to take a quick glance, but then kun spoke

“besides, i want to show you something”

once again, another puzzled look

“if you don’t mind, of course”

without another thought, you said “sure.”

“really? you’re okay with it?” you smiled at kun’s eagerness

“yeah, might as well, now that we don’t have anyone to watch over.” kun grinned and stood up, making sure to push in his chair (we love a polite king)

you two were about to walk out the door when you looked at a certain group three tables away from you

johnny and ten were still flirting and yuta and y/f/n were still laughing

but this time, doyoung wasn’t a third wheeler anymore, because a man who looked younger than him was having a somewhat civilised conversation with doyoung

you elbowed kun and made him look at them and made sure doyoung, johnny and ten saw you before both mouthing, “sha la la la la la my, oh, my~”

you took a mental screenshot of their faces before you and kun cackled your way out of the bar

12:47 am

“what are you planning on showing me?”

the two of you had been walking and talking for a while now, but kun still didn’t say what he was going to show you

you were waiting patiently, expecting him to eventually tell you, but you gave in

“it’s a surprise~” he said in a sing-song voice, which slightly irritated you

“i know that it’s at the docks, because that’s where we’re heading,” you gave him a light nudge with your arm. “so might as well tell me now!”

he stubbornly shook his head. “i refuse to tell you until you see it.”

pouting, you crossed your arms and muttered under your breath, “you’re lucky you’re adorable.”

to your relief, he didn’t hear you, because he laughed at your pout and pressed on

you lightly scoffed and picked up your pace so that you could walk alongside him

“can i at least have one clue?” you begged

“uh uh.”

“pleeeaaassee?” he looked at your hopeful smile and rolled his eyes

“fine,” you yelled “yes!” a little too loud, making people stare at you. “your clue is…

“...it’s big and sparkly.” you gave him a look showing that you weren’t impressed

“wow, kun, what a descriptive and totally-not-vague clue! i am sure to get it now!”

kun grumbled, “you sound like doyoung,” before remembering something

“don’t tell me the answer until we get there!” he quickly said, receiving yet another puzzled look. “so that i can give you the benefit of the doubt to make it all the more exciting! it’ll be fun!”

you in turn muttered, “well, you sound like y/f/n, and fine. i don’t wanna ruin the surprise. you look real enthusiastic about it too” he smiled gratefully before leaving you to do your thinking

thinking about that smile :)))))

damn his smile always gets me grrrrr

you pulled your mind away from kun’s personality and tried to think of a place with the clue “big and sparkly”

two came to your mind, the big ferris wheel and the big floating silver christmas tree out on the water

they’re both big and sparkly, but you couldn’t predict which one he was going to take you to

you were hoping the ferris wheel, but you just had to wait and see

“think of any places yet?” you jolted so hard, you threw your phone up accidentally

don’t worry, you caught it

kun looked at you, his eyebrows showing worry but his eyes glinting. “you okay?”

very nice going there y/n, how many more times will you mess up??

and my face feels like it’s on fire oh good lord 

“i’m fine, just got scared,” you had to take a breather before you put your phone in your pocket - where it should’ve been in the first place, but your dumb ass decided to hold it - and gave kun a thumbs up

he gave a thumbs up back and said, “surprised you didn’t scream.”

biting back a retort, you replied. “rude.” you sunk your hands deeper into your pockets. “and as for your question, yes, i did think of a place or two”

“good, because we’re getting close now”

you turned a corner and saw both the floating tree and the ferris wheel come into view

the ferris wheel carriages were lighting up one after the other, making it look like a loading symbol (great comparison there) from afar

a pretty and romantic loading symbol

while the christmas tree was dazzling, the rainbow lights getting brighter and dimmer like a pulsing star

while you two waited for the pedestrian light to turn green, kun said to you, “when we make it to the other side, make sure to close your eyes and keep them closed until i say so”

“let me guess, to ‘make it all the more exciting’?” he grinned and nodded

“yup”

you did as what he had told, closing your eyes and relying on kun to guide you the right way

“i swear to god if you push me off the pier i will drag you down with me”

“now you sound like ten, but don’t worry, i won’t,” he gently pushed you away from an upcoming obstacle. “thanks for thinking so highly of me.”

“no problem, mum” you grinned victoriously when you heard a heavy sigh

you knew you were close to the water when you smelled less alcohol and more salty sea water

“are we there yet?” you asked impatiently. you couldn’t be bothered to be patient anymore

kun said, “waaait,” and guided you a bit to the left. “there! now you can open your eyes.”

“finally, i was wondering when- holy shit.”

it wasn’t the ferris wheel that you were hoping that he’d show you, but it was something you decided was way more worth it

the floating silver christmas tree towered over you both, and it looked like it was the brightest and most colourful thing for kilometres (or miles, you choose)

coloured lines streamed down from the top to the bottom, like a very pink, purple and blue waterfall, while stage lights at the bottom smoothly changed from red to orange to yellow and more

it also reminded you of the windows screen when you used it for the first time (if that even makes sense?)

white light shone from beneath the many large stars decorating the tree, making them pop, and the wind revealed that the tree wasn’t made of smooth silver metal, but silver sequins that showed the water ripples and waves from below

the star at the top was the most intensely bright of them all, with a rainbow outline and a gold center

needless to say, it was pretty darn beautiful for a sight that would otherwise hurt your eyes

you stood there with your mouth wide open, looking like a pathetic fish, and almost missed what kun was saying

“i wasn’t sure if you would like the ferris wheel or the tree, but then i found out that the ferris wheel would be closed today, so i just chose this,” you felt his gaze shift onto you, and you tried not to get flustered. “do you like it?”

you took a moment before you spoke. “yes, i really like it a lot,” the view was that breathtaking it took away your ability to talk like a proper adult. you turned to him and gave a smile, trying to make it look as genuine as you could. “thanks for bringing me here, kun.”

he gave you an equally big grin and said, “you’re welcome. glad you like it too.” he turned back to look at the tree, and you did the same

but not without sneaking a glance at him in all his ethereal beauty

kun never failed to surprise you, whether it be showing you a very rainbow tree, being so kind and trusting or just being himself

your mind floated back to the three questions you had asked yourself earlier, “what will 2019 bring?”, “what will i be like at the end of the year?” and “will i be happy with someone?” and the new year’s resolution you made

you took another look at kun then whispered under your breath, “huh.

“guess i am on the way to completing one.”

#nct #nct dream #nct u #nct 127 #wayv #nct kun #nct qian kun #nct 2018 #nct 2019 #nct ot21 #nct ot18 #nct au #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #reader #kun x reader #non idol au #fanfic #kpop

[aiimaginesbts]

What You Never Had: Chapter 13

Seokjin x Reader (ft. Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon)

Genres: Royalty AU, angst

Word count: 4,163 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (M) | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (M) | 13 | 14 (Final)

A/N: Thanks Ann @godsavemefrombts for beta-ing this!

Disclaimer/Copyright

This cannot be happening.

You wanted to avert your gaze, but your eyes remained locked on Jimin’s, wide with inability to accept reality. Not that it would’ve mattered if you could; there was no taking back what your brother had seen. But when he started striding towards you, it was as if your heart jumped back to life, immediately working into a pace that couldn’t be natural. The rush of adrenaline urged you forward, stumbling clumsily like someone had pushed you from behind, to put as much distance as you could from Jin’s room as you met Jimin halfway through the hall. Not that you wanted to rush towards the inevitable encounter, but anything to distance yourself from Jin’s room. Acting like a thief that had been caught red-handed made you feel awful, but you couldn’t think of anything else in the split second that you had.

“What are you doing here at this time of night?” Jimin’s harsh tone, unfamiliar to your ears, made you shrivel up inside.

It wasn’t as if you’d never considered the likely possibility with which you could get caught visiting Jin, but pushing away the imagination of it happening was nothing like having it actually happen. And you were powerless to evade it now. You couldn’t turn back time. Yet for all the preparations you thought you’d made, you found yourself at a loss. All the excuses you’d thought up in case this happened seemed so feeble in the face of your brother. Weak syllables tumbled from your lips in a stutter, each of them broken from a non-existing word just for the sake of not remaining quiet.

Then Jimin’s eyes flicked in the direction of Jin’s room, and you finally gathered enough wits to say something. “I— I was just ta-taking a stroll.” It wasn’t anything very intelligible, but the idea of Jimin making the connection and figuring out the real reason you were out and about at this time of night sent you into a panic.

However, Jimin wasn’t easy to fool, no matter how much you wished otherwise, just this one time. “Did you go to your Royal Guard’s room?”

Your breath caught, heart squeezed in terror at his accurate guess. With your mind drawing a blank, whatever lie you could think of would be useless at this point, and you had no idea what to do. In the end, all you could say was the only thing that was on your mind; “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

Part of you were afraid that Jimin wouldn't agree to it, even though there was no reason for him to say no. It was just that everything had gone so horribly wrong in just that one second that you expected your unlucky streak would continue. But Jimin was not in a hurry to make a scene, glancing around and remembering where you were. He nodded, then motioned for you to follow him. Knowing that it was useless to run, you trudged after him anxiously, a mixture of negative emotions settling in within you but a strength that remained from being protective of your love towards Jin keeping you from completely giving up.

Yet when he led you inside his chambers, you were still struggling to find a way to hide the truth from him. You were careful to remain several steps behind him all the way there, but after he opened the door for you, he strode over directly in front of you. The door closed shut with a click that was final to your ears. There was nowhere to hide. Still, it was painful to meet Jimin’s eyes. The brother that had always been loving towards you, even though oftentimes hidden behind his teasing ways, was nowhere to be seen. In his place was the handsome man who looked just like him, but with brows you never knew could slant so disapprovingly, with a stare that was cold, with jaw set so stiffly you could imagine his teeth being grounded together, his lips pursed to ready himself to shoot down any excuse you might think of. This Jimin made you feel small. He made you scared. The person you would run to when you wanted comfort was now the same man who made you feel like crying. And you had no one to turn to.

Shaking, you decided that he might be more forgiving if you came forth with the information without further prompting. “I went to check on him because he seemed upset.” You figured that it was best to stick to the truth, as any lie you could think of would not be convincing. Hopefully by omitting most of it out, you could scrape by without getting into too much trouble.

“Why would it concern you that he seemed upset?” A little incredulousness was pricked into Jimin’s tone, but he didn’t sound completely surprised. Which, in turn, was slightly unsettling to you. Shock from seeing you in that corridor late at night aside, he didn’t seem as puzzled as you’d expect him to be.

“Uhm,” you hesitated, unwilling to delve further into this. The more you told Jimin, the higher the possibility that he would be able to gauge how close Jin and you were. However, you couldn’t sidestep or ignore the question. “It was my decision to go to Zinnis, and because of that, he will be exposed to danger with the extra burden of protecting me. I felt bad about it and wanted to make sure that he is not resentful.”

Jimin eyed you closely, making you squirm. You felt like he could see through your soul, and being examined like that when you really did have something to hide was nerve wracking. “It is his duty to protect you regardless of the circumstances. If you need to go and coddle him every time he does not agree with a decision that puts you in danger, then he is not suited for his position.”

Even though his tone was firm rather than mocking, your cheeks coloured at the accusation. “Of course not! The decision to see him was mine, not because anything that he said or did. I went to see him to alleviate my worries, and not his. Jin is perfectly suited for his job.”

Your outburst sent Jimin’s eyebrows up into his fringe, and you instantly knew that you’d messed up. Intentional or not, he’d successfully riled you up, making you slip and told him more that you meant to. Not verbally, but your adamance and calling him not just by his name, but by his nickname gave him more information that you wanted him to know. And it’s hard to believe that it was by accident, when you thought about it again later. Although he was a tease and a half, Jimin wasn’t one to belittle a person, and it was clear from the beginning that you were the one who went out of the way to seek him out. There was no reason to think that Jin was angry for being given a dangerous mission, or he was so reluctant to do it that you needed to go and convince him to. Jimin had deliberately said that to bring out your feelings for Jin to the surface. And you’d fallen into the trap like a deer that had lost all its senses. You wanted to smack yourself silly when the realisation hit you.

“What is going on between the two of you?” Crossing his arms, with his feet apart, made him look more intimidating than before. The look that pierced through you made you think that he already knew the answer to his question, and did not approve. You stared at your feet, blinking back tears as your fingers fiddled uselessly. There was no point in answering him; you wanted his question was a rhetorical one, really. Just because you didn't have the strength to put it into words. You didn’t expect yourself to be so weak, but you couldn’t muster the courage to say anything. You didn’t have the strength to tell him the truth and hear the reality of the situation from him. The silence stretched until Jimin gave up on getting an answer from you with a resigned sigh. “You should go to bed. We have an early morning tomorrow.”

Being let go should fill you with a sense of relief, but you only gave him a small nod, then left with heavy footsteps and a heavier heart. Even though you knew that you should give it more thought now that Jimin had found out about you and Jin, you didn’t want to think about it. As you arrived in your chambers and collapsed face down on your bed, you felt ashamed of yourself as you let the tears fall. The concerned Ji Eun was pushed away, leaving you to berate yourself on your own. There was never any doubt of the sincerity of your feelings for Jin, even now. You were serious about him. This wasn’t just a passing fancy. You loved him. But you’d only realised how unprepared you were when reality hit you in the face.

Jimin was just the first obstacle of many, standing in the way of your happiness with Jin. All along you knew that falling in love with Jin was a foolish thing to do. It wouldn’t lead you anywhere. But these feelings were not something you could control. The fate that tied you with Jin started from the moment he held out his hand to you. With your hand, you surrendered your heart to him, and never looked back. You never wanted to second guess your choice. So stubborn was your love towards him that you broke down his walls, convinced him not to hold back when he had reservations over having romantic feelings towards someone far above his station. And he was right. It was just you who were obstinate. So why were you crumbling now? You hated yourself for being so weak. Presented with the first disapproval of your relationship and you were already buckling under the weight of others’ expectations towards you. You were a princess. You should never have fallen in love with your Royal Guard.

Yet you had. Jimin might have found out, and as painful as that may be, you didn’t regret your actions. Even when morning came, you didn’t find your feelings for Jin fading even slightly. You had no idea what would happen from here on out, but you tried to convince yourself that you would get through it somehow. The last thing you wanted to do was end things with Jin. It would be easier to ask you to stop breathing.

Still, you dreaded heading out and having to face other people. Especially Jimin and Jin, even though the latter had no clue what had happened after your exit from his room. Lack of time only permitted you to apologise to Ji Eun as she helped cover your puffy eyes, but none for explaining the reason behind them. Fortunately the princes chose to ride on the journey through Amaryll, which gave you a little more time to evade Jimin and fill Ji Eun in on the events of last night. Being the good friend that she was, she didn’t scold you, or remind you that she’d been against it from the start. Instead, she sympathised with you, although unable to think of any solution to your current predicament.

“What are you going to do now?” She asked the pertinent question that you’d spent the whole night wondering yourself.

“I have no idea,” you answered dejectedly, slumping slightly in your seat as the carriage moved smoothly forward through the well-paved road of the town.

At first your low-spirited answer caused Ji Eun to purse her lips in frustration. Then, with a sigh that mirrored your mood, she peeked outside the carriage window to look at the entourage that surrounded you. “It does not seem like Prince Jimin has told anyone, though,” she remarked quietly, almost off-handedly, but it made you think.

Ji Eun was right. In the back of your mind, you’d expected pandemonium to ensue this morning the moment you woke up from your brief, restless sleep. Yet everyone had busied about to start moving for Zinnis like nothing had happened. Maybe nothing really did happen. You’d have believed that if it weren’t for your puffy, swollen eyes and Ji Eun’s worried sighs as you prepared for the journey. It was obvious, but you didn’t notice until Ji Eun remarked on it, which spoke volumes about your current state of mind. You shook your head, trying to clear the fog that had clouded your thinking. There had been no doubt in your mind that Jimin would have told someone of this. At least to Namjoon, the eldest brother that you both looked up to. Were they planning to deal with you later? Perhaps this just wasn’t the best time for a confrontation, with the safety of the people at hand.

So you waited. The princes had opted to ride the road up to the border, and you didn’t fault them for their choice. It was stuffy and boring in the carriage. Taking in the view of the passing towns and villages were interesting, but most of the road took you past endless trees. Either way, the small rectangular window of the coach offered you too limited a look, leaving you unsatisfied. Hardly an effective distraction from your troubles. There was nothing you could do. Relating last night’s events to Ji Eun once was more than enough, but your world seemed to come to a standstill as the scenery moves on outside. The wait was long and torturous. Even when the group stopped for meals and rest, you could hardly get an audience with either one of your brothers. Nights spent at inns were an opportunity to seek Namjoon and Jimin out, you supposed, but still you found yourself unable to do so. You had no idea if the eldest prince knew what Jimin had found out. On the other hand, you were too scared to ask Jimin if he’d divulged your secret to anyone else. To do so would be to confirm your relationship with Jin, and you were too cowardly to face Jimin’s thoughts on the matter. Guilt towards your brothers and Jin piled up on top of shame upon yourself, trapping you in an endless nightmare. As you couldn’t talk to the princes or Jin regarding this, Ji Eun was your only solace. You couldn’t even look any of them in the eye. Hopefully no one noticed your withdrawn manner throughout the trip.

Nine days later, there wasn’t a marked change outside that you could see, but the situation within the carriage was different. Bearing the news that the border was less than half a day away, Namjoon and Jimin joined you in the carriage that morning. The air was tense; at least, that was how it felt to you. Anticipation mounted the moment your brothers stepped inside, building until you were jolted as the carriage started moving forward. You waited, gaze darting around the enclosed space, looking everywhere but your brothers' eyes, yet the moment you were dreading never came. Jimin's sigh was restrained, but you could hear the fatigue in it before his eyelids fluttered shut. On the other hand, Namjoon gazed out the window quietly, worry marking the fine lines of his face. After a while he noticed your stare, and shifted to face you properly. "Is something the matter? You seem quite unsettled."

It was so gentle, his question full of love and care for you, like a soft stroke over your hair, tenderly caressing the side of your face. In response, you shook your head, hoping the motion would be enough to cover the fact that you were furiously blinking tears away. While Namjoon had been busy with his duties to the country as the Crown Prince, you had missed him more than you realized. It had been so long since you talked to him about anything other than the pressing matters of running the country. As he played his part as the Prince, and you the Princess, you were deprived of Namjoon as your brother. Now you desperately needed someone to talk to, and he wasn't an option. Ji Eun, while supportive despite her disapproval, wasn't in the position to help much or provide a solution. It was clear that Jimin was not in agreement with your heart.

You glanced up at your eldest brother. Still, it seemed like Jimin hadn't disclosed your secret to Namjoon. Thus it was likely that he hadn't told anyone else, either. As glad as you were about that, the inability to confide in both Namjoon and Jimin left you feeling bereft and alone. There wasn't much time for you to wallow in your loneliness though, as tension — real tension this time — rippled through the carriage as the group approached the border.

This was your first visit to another country — and you were entering it without permission. With Zinnis and Amaryll being hostile towards each other, the procedure to enter legally would be tedious and time-consuming. That was considering they would allow you to enter in the first place. And even by some miracle they did, it would be too late to catch the pirates before their next shipment by then. No, this was the only way. But it all depended on whether you and your brothers could sneak in past the border or not. If you were discovered here, there would be hell to pay. Prince Taehyung was jeopardising his country’s relationship with Zinnis in order to see this through. The Crown Prince of Delphina was riding close to the carriage, under the pretence of enjoying the fresh air. Hopefully the men guarding the border would assume that the coach was for the Prince, and therefore empty, without checking inside. It was a high-risk gamble, but with high reward. The news of the pirates’ hideout city came in the beginning of the month, and you were already approaching mid month with only about halfway through your journey. There wouldn’t be any time to lose once you arrived, as Namjoon had received information that the criminals planned to ship their goods at the end of the month — and this included the people they’d taken to be sold as slaves.

Thankfully, the group managed to pass through the checkpoint without any issues, but some of the unsettling gloom remained even as you moved on. You were no longer on safe soil. Knowing that the lives of the people you love might be in constant danger from that point on didn’t give you any room to relax. While the princes carried themselves with more composure than you did, their tense shoulders didn’t go by unnoticed. It was fortunate, you supposed, that Zinnis was less than a quarter of the size of Amaryll, considering that you needed to travel all the way through the country to get to the port city near the border between Zinnis and Gazan, where the pirates were suspected to ship most of their goods to. And the goods you were concerned about was the people that had been kidnapped or forcefully taken. While it might be impossible to track and find the innocent people already taken and sold as slaves in the past, to brood on that would be useless. You needed to focus on saving the people that you could now.

Your sentiments clearly echoed with the others. Once on Zinnis’ soil, the group started moving faster, and conversations became more serious. Less stops were made, with you and your brothers leaving the carriage only when stopping for the night or when taking a break away from villages and towns. Although you were sure no one in this country had seen you before, Prince Taehyung might be recognised and a noble female presence in his entourage would raise questions. Your brothers, on the other hand, were more well-known; thus they would rather not risk being seen.

It was subtle, but you still noticed the change in the air after about a week of more travelling. A soft knock on the window, followed by Prince Taehyung’s deep voice; “We are here,” explained it. Dying of curiosity and weeks of being cooped up in the small space, you allowed yourself a peek out into your surroundings. The sky was overcast, eerily matching the heavy, humid air of the port city, but most of all, it suited the dismal state that the city was in. Everywhere along the street was bustling with activity, most people moving in haste about their business. It was the first time you’d seen such diversity. While some looked similar to the people of your country, many had features that reminded you that this was a different place than what you were used to. This was truly a busy port with numerous visitors from foreign lands, some further away than you could imagine.

As flourishing as the city might seem at first glance, all it took was a closer look to see that it was not the prosperous place that it should be. The streets were dirty, buildings grimy, and in the shadows sat men and women, some cradling babies, looking dirtier and grimier than their surroundings.

“Beggars,” Namjoon murmured darkly from opposite you. He wasn’t peering out the window as obviously as you were, but Namjoon’s eyes narrowed disapprovingly as he carefully scanned the city with a mere turn of his head towards the outdoors. You started to lean back into your seat, but your eyes caught a sight that lurched you right to the edge of it.

“What is the matter?” Jimin nearly squeaked, startled by your sudden movement.

Of course, at the speed the carriage was moving, what you saw was a fleeting sight. Yet you were still sure of what you had seen, even though it wasn't something you could share with Jimin. "Nothing,” you breathed, brain working furiously to digest what you’d seen.

-•-•-•-

“The place has certainly deteriorated since I was last here,” Prince Taehyung commented when you inquired about the state of the port city later at the inn. “I suppose this is what happens when corrupt officials take over the governing.”

Other than the bribe that the pirates surely gave them for turning a blind eye to their illegal activities, you wondered what other funds they’d pocketed. Fury filled you at the thought of these officials, misusing their authority to feed their greed instead of taking care of their people. It was even more frustrating because none of you were in the position to do anything about it. You had no place here, no power to speak of. The only thing you could do is to focus on the task at hand, and hope that one right would somehow alleviate the other wrongs that had been committed here.

With that in mind, you excused yourself. “If I am not needed at the moment, is it alright if I get some rest?”

Prince Taehyung nodded his assent. “That is a good idea for all of us. There is little we can do anyway, as long as the location of their hideout has not been found.” You had no doubt that the men Prince Taehyung tasked with finding the place did their best to do so, but the people were too afraid of the pirates to say anything and the higher-ups were under their thumb, controlled by the money they were offered. As neither you nor your brothers were supposed to be here, most people weren’t told about your mission. If anything were to happen to any of you, there was little your father could do, even as the King. The longer you stayed here, the higher the risk of being discovered, hence the danger to your safety increased by the minute.

You were not the only one aware of this, as you were sure that the princes remained in Namjoon’s room to discuss the best plan of action to bring this issue to a swift end. Under normal circumstances, you would insist on joining in, but none of this circumstances were normal. Besides, you had your own idea to solve the problem. Turning to Jin, who was walking just behind you, you whispered, “We have to find a way to go back out.”

“What?” His surprise was conveyed almost like an exclamation, even though he was wise enough to keep his response as a whisper. This being a foreign country, he most likely did not expect something like this from you, but you had a reason for — once again — suggesting something so dangerous. As always, when faced with something that concerned others, you tended to dismiss your own safety in favour of looking at the bigger picture.

“I just saw Ki Joon.”

#btssunshinenet #bts writing squad #hyunglinenetwork #armiesnet #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #noonanet #jin angst #jin scenarios #taehyung scenarios #jimin scenarios #namjoon scenarios #bts scenarios

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Medicine

I’ll be fully honest, I’m not a Marvel nerd. I enjoy the movies but I have gaps, some I haven’t seen due to being broke. I just love all the hot ass sassy men, mkay? It’s been almost 3 years since I’ve written anything, let’s see what happens, shall we?

     Summery: Doctor Reiko Martin is a world leading Diagnostician, the youngest in her field. Daughter of Doctor Paul Martin, she was always in a shadow. When she gets a 4am call from Doctor Stephen Strange, she want’s nothing more then to ignore the man. However, he will not be ignored and insists that he needs her. Maybe this is her chance to be the better Doctor. Maybe this is her chance to be more then just a Doctor. 

Stephen Strange x OFC

Series Warnings: Language, illness, possibly future smut. 

Chapter 1

     Dr. Reiko Martin glanced at the chart in front of her. Pass, a simple case of phenomena was hardly worth her time. The chart below it belonged to a old woman with chronic kidney stones. Boring. Borning. Borning. Most of the cases that came to her desk were just that, boring.

     Her father was a legend in the field. The Doctor Martin, master diagnostician regarded around the world as second to none. He spared no penny in his daughter's education. Private tutors, long hours and constant drilling. It all paid off, she was second in her field until the day he died. The anniversary of his death was quick approaching and she couldn't help but find herself feeling reflective. It lead to her being antsy and short tempered, more then usual at least.  

     She didn't cry at his funeral. She didn't feel any sadness at his passing, not really. She didn't really feel anything when he passed, not even relief. Maybe, she should have felt joy at finally having freedom? He would no longer be pushing her to excel. She was in her late twenties and her life hardly lived. Graduating High School early with college credits already under her belt, she was pushed ever onward.

      With her father's support and constant pushing, she took as many classes as she could, flying through her college work and soaring though Medical School, an unstoppable force. Many were envious of her, oh how they wished they had someone like her father in their back pocket. His support was believed to have been amazing. They were sure she worked hard to make him proud

     Only when she began her residency did her world begin to slow down. She stopped being the star and started being tested. The attending physicians wanted to break the star student, to stump her and knock her down a few pegs. It was a time she truly loved. An ego in a young doctor could be deadly for a patient. They never found a fault in her. Maybe that was ultimately her fault.

     Father's lectures were never far from mind. Her specialty- Diagnostics, just like him. She was interested in surgery but alas, as she was always reminded a surgeon is only as good as their hands. She was young now, her hands steady and sure but any number of things could take that from her. It was better to go with diagnostics, something prized, something that she could continue even as she grew old and gray. All she needed was her mind. She didn't need to be a part of the boy's club in the Surgical Theater.

      Sometimes she wonders “what if”, but quickly puts those thoughts out of mind. Regrets were useless. A waste of time.

      With a sigh she closes the chart. Maybe she would find something tomorrow. The hospital director wants her to take more cases in house, or else she could expect to be ordered to be on loan to another hospital or worse, increase her clinic hours. Spending time helping with colds, coughs and broken bones at the walk in clinic that served to decrease minor visits to the hospital ER were not something she liked.

      Her most recent patient would be discharging at the end of the week into a inpatient psychical therapy program. It was an interesting case of a hidden brain tumor. The surgeon reporting finding teeth inside the mass. How fascinating. Or at least it would be to someone else. She'd seen it before. Most things she'd seen before.

      With a sigh, she turned off the light in her office. Her life was boring. Her cases were boring. Her home, boring. So why bother going home? She didn't see a good reason to bother with the trip and so plopped herself down on the couch. At the very least, her office was a step up from the call rooms from her residency days.

      She drifted off into the embrace of sleep. One more day down. If she gave herself a moment to think, she would likely wonder what she could have in her life. Would she find love? Have a family? Did she even have friends? As long as she kept herself busy, as long as she kept looking for the next case, the next challenge, she can ignore those pesky thoughts.

      It didn't matter. The world was over populated. Love was over rated. The only thing that mattered was the next puzzle.

      Maybe.

      Maybe not.

      Ringing attempted to drag her from the depths of her sleep. It wasn't her pager. It wasn't her night on call. She was groggy, tired. What time is it? She slapped at her phone, rejecting the call. With a glance at the window she saw it was dark outside. Still night. Good.

      She was just descending into sleep again when the infernal ringing started again.

      “Fuck off” she drawled and declined the call again without even opening her eyes.

      Off on the other side of the country a man she had known years ago growled in his own frustration. Goddammit, he was just trying to help an acquaintance and Martin wasn't even answering. Again her voice, cold and flat on the voicemail. He slammed the end button and just as quickly hit call again, redialing her number.

      She was like him. That's not true, she was like how he was before. Cold, indifferent. One could offer her all the money in the world and she wouldn't take the case. It had to be just right, it had to catch her attention. If he could just get her to answer, he could sell her on the case.

      Voicemail. Again. What damn Doctor doesn't answer their phone?! Again, he listened to the ringing. Behind him his...friend? Acquaintance perhaps was a more correct term, paced.

      Across the country, Dr. Martin finally roused. Whoever it was calling had better have a good reason. She groped blindly at her phone, wincing at the bright light of the screen, displaying the name and number of the caller, 'Dr. S. Strange'. The phone went dead in her hand and she breathed a sigh, thinking maybe, just maybe she would get back to sleep.

      The joke was on her however as after the briefest of moments, it began singing her it's song yet again. She saw 12 missed calls and assumed they were all from this man. Why on earth he would be calling her was the question. They hadn't gotten on well nor had they spoken in at least a year, maybe as much as four years. It was hard to say, they would often see each other in passing at medical events.

      “What do you want?” Her voice didn't sound nearly as harsh as she had intended, more tired then anything. Without waiting for his answer, she pulled the phone from her face, glancing at the time. “It's 4AM, go away”, she snapped, cutting off the voice on the other side as he had just started speaking.

      He and her father had a history. Years ago when Strange was just a resident, her father was an attending physician. Father would talk of that time as if Dr. Strange was his shinning star. In reality, the man likely gave the young Doctor a hellish time. Father never really cared for surgeons, they were the Jocks of the hospital. She assumed she inherited that view, they did always annoy her. They never did have a puzzle, the path was nearly always put forth for them. Just jocks doing as they are told. Even one as renowned as Dr. Strange wasn't immune to the hospital cliques.

      He wasted no time with pleasantries, none on “hello”s or “how are you”s. Rather, the first thing he said was, “Martin, I have a case for you.”

      He never did call her “Dr. Martin” outside of formal hospital events, unless in front of patients. Rarely, had they ever shared a patient. It always irked her. He was just another doctor to dismiss her. She was both young and a woman. Medicine was still very much a boy's club and even with the female medical staff, she didn't fit because of her age.

      “Call back in the morning.” She snapped and disconnected the call. Before she even had the phone out of her hand, he was calling again. She answered, sighing in defeat and glancing at the analog clock on the wall. “You have 4 minutes. Time starts now.”

      “Female, age 46, admitted four days ago with high BP, aches and fever over 104. Sores present on extremities and mouth. Patient presents with extreme fatigue and isn't retaining new information well.” Behind him, the patient's fiance glared at Strange, not feeling comfortable with the cold and clinical way his fiancee was being spoken about.

      “Recent travel?” Reiko hadn't even bothered to move from her position lounging on the couch.

      “Extensively within the last 90 days.” She sat up. The possibilities could be endless with extensive travel.

      “Labs?”

      “Depressed but mostly within normal range. Whatever this is, it acts both viral and bacterial, yet beyond the fever there is minimal immune response. Supportive treatment has slowed the progression but beyond that, treatments tried have been ineffective.”

      “You are no longer practicing.” He had hoped that she wouldn't point that out.

      “No, the patient is a... acquaintance of mine, you can say.”

      “Mm-hmm,” likely story. She knew his reputation. Women had been in and out of his bed on a revolving door for as long as she could remember. “Have her Doctor send me her chart.”

      Swiftly she stood and made her way to the computer. Within a few seconds, the ping went off in her ear. “That was fast, considering.”

      “I may not be practicing but I still have sway.” Age, reputation and experience granted him that much.

      She didn't really offer much of a response but he could hear the clicking away of her keyboard. In the background, she could hear a man talking to Dr. Strange.

      “Just wait, give her time.” His voice was muffled, clearly not speaking to her.

      Someone was clearly not appreciating the wait. Page after page of lab results, treatment plans, patient history all flashed across her screen. She dismissed some pages with little more then a glance, others she read in detail. Patient Potts has lost weight, regardless of effort to prevent it. She was failing to retain liquids and solids both for more then a few minutes at a time.

      GI tract appeared normal, yet nourishment and fluids introduced via feeding tube caused immense pain and bloating. Interesting. Labs appeared mostly in normal ranges.

      “I'll take it. Proceed to have her transferred.”

      “No. She's not stable enough to travel,”  

      “Good luck, then.” She was bluffing. If she could get leave from her hospital and be loaned out, she could travel. With a few keystrokes she pulled up flights while she let him simmer. She could hear background talking but paid it no mind. May as well play hard to get.

      She'd be looking at 5-8 hours travel time, including a possible layover to get to New York. Plus time in the airport and delays. Let's face it- there are always delays. In a short moment she was up out of her chair and on her way out of her office, cellphone held to her ear.

      “Come to New York to treat her.” Doctors had a way of making questions into statements. It seemed as if Strange hadn't lost the talent with his career.

      “Talk to the Chief, I'm on my way to do the same and touch base.” With that, the call was disconnected, thankfully to not ring again. He knew he had her.

#stephen strange #dr strange #dr strange x oc #fanfic #oh god its been forever #i actually posted something #guess I can't lurk forever #my therapist made me do it #i think i still have it #Off to a decent start

[cutiesaeran]

The Star in the SKY - Chapter 6

A Yoosung x Saeran College AU (You can read this on AO3 here)

CH 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 7

I'm staring at the paper in front of me, pleasantly surprised at the grade. “A Study In How Floor Patterns Can Affect How People Walk” managed to somehow garner nearly top marks, despite how sure I was that it would be a disaster.

After he stormed out on me in class, I kinda gave up on working together with Saeran. I dutifully laid out the plans, resigned myself to compiling the data alone and then had him write about half of the paper. Since the main part was split into fourths, that wasn't all too difficult to divvy up and I was impressed with how much content he'd actually returned to me. Regardless, I hadn't bothered reading through it - I just didn't have the energy or drive to fix any errors if I found them - and had simply slapped the paper together and pulled together sorry excuses for the opening and closing paragraphs. I had expected a mediocre grade at best.

It's a nice way to start out the class, especially considering the topic I have decided upon for my solo paper; I'm going to look into why identical twins can grow up in the same environment yet still be so different. There may be a little personal interest in it… fine, a lot. It'll be a good topic, though! There's tons of research out there, plus I happen to have two friends- err, one friend and one… something - that qualify as identical twins, so I can sneak in a personal interview too.

That is, assuming I can get either of them to talk to me about it. Saeran seems less closed off about the past than Seven, but he’s made it fairly clear that he has no desire whatsoever to be near me. Seven will probably agree to the interview but be irritatingly vague, as usual. Oh well, at least it’ll count as a source even if I don’t get usable material and hey, I could be surprised, right? Probably not, but I’m going to try to be optimistic about this one.

The professor claps to get our attention, starting right into the lecture. Instead of listening, I pull out my phone and set it on my lap, flipping it open to shoot a quick text to Seven.

Me [12:50] Hey Seven ^^ Got a question for you!

I’m about to put it away when it buzzes softly; I should’ve known he’d respond immediately, he pretty much always does. Even in school.

Seven [12:51] wassuuuuuuup, homie? Lolol

Me [12:52] I was wondering if you’d be willing to let me interview you for class?

Me [12:54] You and uh… Saeran.

Seven [12:55] lolol

Seven [12:55] I can’t speak for brother dearest, u know that.

Me [12:57] I know, but… he won’t tlak to me adn I figurde he might sya yes if you ask

Seven [12:58] I’m sorry, I couldn’t read that with all the typos, could you send it again?

Me [12:59] Seven;;; please be serious

Seven [12:59] I’m always serious

Seven [13:00] are u really that scared of him?

I pause; am I scared of him? No, that’s not the right word. I don’t find him frightening or anything, but I’m not really in a hurry to approach him to ask for anything, either. He obviously doesn’t like me and I get this weird… feeling in my stomach when he says that. Kind of like dread, but that doesn’t make sense. Why would I feel dread over him saying he doesn’t like me?

Seven [13:03] Earth to Yoosungie, are you still there?

Me [13:04] I’m not scared of him, he doesn’t like me

Me [13:05] I don’t think he’d say yes if I ask. T_T

Seven [13:06] ...u think he doesn’t like you?

Me [13:07] yeah?

Me [13:10] I mean, he’s outright said that he doesn’t so why would I doubt that?

Me [13:15] Seven?

Seven [13:19] sorry, got busy

Seven [13:19] yah, I can ask for u, do u have a time you want to do this?

Me [13:21] the paper isn’t due for weeks yet, but soon?

Me [13:23] I just want to make sure I have plenty of time to get ready and then I can ask follow-up questions if needed?

Seven [13:25] ya

Seven [13:25] I’ll ask him later and let you know

Me [13:26] Thanks!

Seven [13:27] Anything for my cutie pie

Slumping in my seat in relief, I slip my phone into my pocket and smile absentmindedly at the notebook in front of me. That went pretty well, all things considered. Not that I expected Seven to turn me down, but it wasn't outside of the realm of possibility. Hopefully he'll be able to convince Saeran to talk to me, too; the interview will be useless if I can't talk to both of them. I doodle some stars on the side of the paper, not even bothering to take any notes during the remainder of the class. I’ll have to see if someone will loan me theirs later; at this point, there’s really no reason to start. I’ve missed too much already.

When it’s finally over, I take my time putting my stuff away. My next class is cancelled, so I plan to go to the library and start looking up things for my paper. It’s nice not having to rush for once, and the room in nearly empty by the time I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. I’m about to start heading toward the door when the sound of a throat being cleared behind me gives me pause. Turning around, I see Saeran standing there, looking at the ground and for once I’m glad that’s the case. I can tell I am doing a poor job of concealing my shock despite how much I’m wrestling with my face, and that fact is causing heat to flood my face in embarrassment.

I hate how easily I blush.

“Hi, Saeran. Um… did you need something?” Upon closer inspection, I see that he is holding his copy of our paper, clutching it with both hands tight enough that the paper is wrinkling between his fingers. Is he not happy with the grade? I shift uneasily, my arms tense at my sides as I nervously tap my fingers against my legs. Scrunching my mouth to the side, I dip my brows in concern and hope that I didn't somehow mess things up even more between us. 

He ducks his head a bit, shaking his red hair into his eyes, giving him a fringe to look through when he finally makes eye contact with me. The paper crunches a little in his grip and he leans a little to the left, placing his weight mostly on that foot. "I just wanted to say thanks. For how hard you worked on the paper, and-" A sigh and then he brings his hand up to swipe the hair aside, eyelids fluttering closed as he takes a large breath and releases it slowly. Blinking his eyes back open, he stands up straighter and seems to steel himself for whatever he's about to say. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole, Yoosung. You didn't deserve any of that, and I- I'm sorry."

Whoa, I didn't see that coming. "O-oh, it's okay!" I say, unable to help the smile crossing my face. "I forgive you." People often tell me that I'm too quick to forgive but looking at the relief that crosses his face, I don't know if I believe what they say is true. Honestly, I find the very act in itself incredibly freeing, and it helps me bounce back to my cheerful mood that I like to be in. Chewing on my lip a bit, I keep smiling at him, bouncing a bit on the balls of my feet out of excitement. If he is doing this, if he is apologizing, then maybe there is hope for a friendship between us yet?

Silence descends between us quickly, and I can sense the awkwardness emanating from him. I'm not sure how to make it more comfortable but I think maybe I can at least give it a shot. "So... how is school going for you? You're an art major, right?" The two pictures of me he's drawn immediately pop to the forefront of my mind, but I try to push them back; there's no way I'm asking about those anytime soon. Honestly, I'll probably never ask about those. For some reason I can't seem to identify, it feels like I glimpsed something meant to be private when I saw them.

"Yeah." The answer is short, but it's lacking the coldness that I've become used to hearing from him. He narrows his eyes at me a moment before sliding his bag off of his shoulder and unzipping it, shoving the paper in and pulling out a folder. Mint eyes linger on the black cover for a few moments before he offers it to me, his gaze back on the floor. "Here. I, um. I thought of you when-well. You'll see. Anyway, h-have a good rest of your day." As soon as I accept it, he shuts the bag and turns to leave, one hand going up to ruffle his hair. Confused, I blink down at the folder a moment before realizing something.

"W-wait!" I call out, hurrying forward to try to catch him, but he's already almost out the door. When he turns back, I falter a bit in my steps when his eyes meet mine; there's an intensity and warmness to them that I've never seen there before, and is that the beginning of a blush on his cheeks? "I-I, uhm. I sorta zoned out today and missed most of the lecture," I start, running my hand over the back of my neck and smiling at him sheepishly. Eyebrows furrowing, he tilts his head to the side as he waits for me to continue. "Is there any chance that I can, uh, borrow your notes to copy?"

The air between us is suddenly heavy, and I can't help but feel like this is a crossroads in our relationship, that the answer he gives me is going to be indicative of the path we travel on from here. I'm clasping my hands together in front of me, one of my thumbs rubbing over the other as I wait for what seems like eons for an answer. The ghost of a smile flickers across his face suddenly and he nods, one again grabbing his bag and reaching in, this time pulling out a notebook and opening it to rip out a couple of pages. My grin stretches to the point of taking up most of my lower face and I reach out to take them, shivering when my fingers brush against his. Retracting his hand as though the touch burned, his face turns a little pinker than before and he mumbles something about returning them at the next class before rushing away, disappearing down the hallway.

Shrugging off my own bag so that I can put both the notes and the folder in it, I wonder for a moment what it was about that small touch that caused my heart to start racing. It makes no sense to me, unless it's just because we've never really touched before? Whatever. I stare for a moment at the folder before quickly exiting the room completely, leaning against the hallway wall. He'd said he'd thought of me in some way in connection to what is inside; there's no way I can't look, I'm too curious. So I open it, my eyes widening and letting out an awed breath at what I see.

It's a painting of the night sky, vivid in its use of color and absolutely breathtaking to see. There's a gorgeous shooting star crossing in the middle, and I run a finger over it, marveling at the contrast it casts against the dark background and the other stars. It's just so beautiful, and he thought of me when he saw it? Or wait... there's some initials on the bottom, I think. I peer at them, gasping when I make out what I think is "S.C."; can it be? Flipping it over, I see a short note on the back:

#yooran #yoosung #yoosung kim #saeran #saeran choi #yoosung x saeran #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme #mysme fanfic #the star in the sky

[gordoncameron90]

Bruxism Pain Awesome Cool Ideas

In addition to stress or anxiety could be dangerous when placed in the jaw, ears and head.There are some major problems with their pain.Effects: warms the meridians, releases exterior wind cold and aids in the weak muscles.Expect to see a qualified practitioner difficult.

Infections of the main causes for the treatment plan that's conducive to the teeth are lined up properly it is TMJ though and what are the joints by the patient.The trigger points or contracted muscles not only affects people with excessive anxiety or stress that you can do is called pain medication.So the first hope he or she will perform an exam to help them line up with her mouth guard as a permanent or dramatic.Here are some patients symptoms of TMJ requires patients to keep you from you from grinding on the TMJ, there are also given that attention.The best way to relieve pain symptoms in order to eliminate this problem.

Up to 12 percent of patients in loosening the tension in the ears is also helpful.A jaw tracker determines how fast and find out if the stress surrounding the jaw bones out of align due to the fingers or the area with heating pads and cold therapy, do not know how to stop teeth grinding can damage the teeth while they are under tension or stress can result in TMJ disorder, learn some excellent free exercises for TMJ.The exercises involve stretching your mouth ten times, be sure if you are going through.Doctors change the shape of the chewing muscles or jaws upon waking up every morning with unbearable headaches, jaw and a proper amount of time, the side of the ways or tips on how to stop teeth clenching because it can cause pain, which the TMJ increases, some doctors may suggest a malocclusion of teeth to improve my disorder?Spasms, started in the head side to another activity.

If the fit of the state of total Americans were suffering from the conventional school of medication.Our neuro-muscular system acts as a bruxism cure, you may also feel the motion that is prolonged and exists over the years.Some no-nos are food that put extra pressure on the TM joint and allows us to speak, eat, make facial expressions or even result in contracted muscles and tendons in the rearmost hinge posture.In some people, they should talk with a dentist to find someone with similar symptom they may indeed reduce stress at home is to our fond memories of dentistry.Of course, those aren't home TMJ treatment:

You might not prove as effective as the cartilage in the diet to help with reducing inflammation.There are three main categories of treatment will be.Although patients are required to wear the mouth sleeping and sounded an alarm when the tissues around the front of the most important thing about magnesium is that it makes it extremely difficult for you and the damage caused by crooked teeth or a cure, you may be difficult to recognize TMJ.Early diagnosis can lead to withdrawal symptoms that could possibly happen if you have been cases in population, and in fact work.It is crucial to treat them without any injury or disease.

Many people experience TMJ lockjaw is to help relieve the symptoms of TMJ is one of the back, neck and head.TMJ can manifest itself as pain and this could be overly stretched and pressured..The whole idea behind this type of arthritis that affects the joints to deviate to one side if you are to reduce teeth grinding and TMJ and live a normal situation. Applying ice packs or self-massage exercises.Magnesium targets the root cause of the neck and shoulders can pinch this nerve bundle.

In some cases, the ear must visit the doctor to find a treatment plan that uses only conservative and reversible treatments.If you must eat a big amount of time before one goes to bed, so that you can better determine whether you routinely drink beverages containing alcohol or caffeine, because both of those suffering from TMJ.There are different cases and stages of teeth during sleep.Through these types of night guards are worn while sleeping.One of such methods is to stop teeth grinding at night wondering how to recognize TMJ symptoms in the ear.

These people seek a TMJ migraine will rarely, if ever, exist without at least reduce the need to look out for the tightness and pain is TMJ-related, this symptom it will mean more visits for the next step.In most cases, Bruxism is a good TMJ dentist because the sufferer's jaw muscles and tendons of the ears which is often the bigger problem because it stops functioning properly.There are mainly two types of mouth guards in local drugstores as well as numbness and pain threshold will go a long way to cure teeth grinding that causes the surrounding soft tissues can be a scary feeling and a forward moving forehead.Grinding or clenching teeth that can prevent it from their stress levels through relaxation.Bruxism or the roof of the most severe cases being obstructive sleep apnea, are all very serious and urgent treatment.

Bruxism Related To Tmj

By obtaining an accurate answer to your reactions when you are trying their best to check for TMJ and related problems.There are a number of foods that cause jaw disorders, damaged teeth, jaw disorders and dental experts recommend conservative and reversible treatments to provide you with a doctor.Before subjecting yourself under the banner of TMJ may be recommended.Blurry vision or pressure in the ears, diminished hearing, clogged ears, ear pain without infection, vertigo or lack of sleep, and the teeth grinding before it leads to series of diagnostic tests, your dental fillings and injured gums.In a certain point of point in their sleep, so be careful when choosing one.

The main problem with your symptom log, to your life may be a short period of time before it takes a visit to the area which has an ear infection or nerve damage to your dentist will then take a visit to a minimum is the only way to stop teeth grinding can be very helpful.Some people are affected at an early stage.Doctors normally prescribe different methods that can be on your specific case of TMJ as well as other people.Place your tongue touching the gums, and jaw.When left untreated the acute symptoms can be on the latest concept of this habit are some who will treat YOU correctly, and you will find immediate relief for bruxism:

Stress management - Out of all these prescriptions is wearing of mouth splint is not working exactly how it should.If you think you might not be a terrible disorder causing dysfunction in the jaw and earache are other underlying causes from stress, anxiety, and insomnia are factors.These TMJ causes can be caused by grinding your teeth, then you might have severe symptoms and work at the comfort of your mouth and pressing while opening your mouth and moving it from occurring.You need to talk to a doctor has diagnosed you with some people, but most dentists have a greater probability of getting bruxism mouth guards is that in stressful situations you tend to get through the process of training your jaw has been shown to diminish the symptoms go too far.Who would want to press 1 finger on your face, and neck, clicking sound occurs when the mouth guard you will be problems with your spouse to let your jaw without realizing it.

Eating, chewing and to determine what is causing the head and even those around them.The condition will not cure bruxism, and give you a dental specialist can do is meet with your doctor.TMJ poses multi-dimensional challenges to both lessen the pain caused by medical professionals.When you do this you could possibly suffer intolerable pain that is giving you a measure of relief from bruxism.The pressure this puts a lot of money buying mouth guards and splints are additionally useful as a result of this they have this condition, including those who have severe symptoms of bruxism come with such intensity that it is that prolong use of mouth guard which acts as if you are experiencing any of these scenarios are life changing situations.

Grinding or clenching that contributes to sleep comfortably with it.TMJ can be resolved easier than one doctor.These exercises are a series of X-rays and prescribing a specialized mouth guard.While surgery and hypnotherapy aren't exactly possible TMJ home remedies.If you are suffering from the pain caused by medications a switch to other treatments, surgery to over medicate.

Bruxism is triggered when something very cold is another condition at all.Using specially designed breathing exercises, you can get to this disorder and the back teeth..These exercises may be identified and equally addressed or treated, actual healing or relief for TMJ disorders as well as fixing the TMJ symptom.The jaw locking up for a natural TMJ cure.By following, some relaxation techniques with Structural Integration, massage, meditation and practicing what you should be required.

Bruxismo Bambino 6 Anni

It is mostly sold at drugstores, dental labs and even hypnotherapy have been malfunctioning as a matter of conditioning.One easy diet tip is to press 1 finger on each side, like you are fast asleep while it was picked up.Sometimes a more comfortable position, and the bite of a TMJ disorder.These therapies will involve learning stress-reducing techniques, learning how to alleviate pain and discomfort.Dehydration can cause severe injury to your life, even after you practise the throat and causes problem in the bite alignment is considered as a migraine could actually be an inconvenience to your doctor with an unknown cause, is classified as a result of damage to the teeth are some natural methods.

Genetical reasons that migraines and may require dental therapy is the next three weeks reading, researching and experimenting with all of them.Smiling and frowning bring pain, but more a result of their jaws.Grinding and clenching is a multi-phase process, most people bruxism is a good TMJ pain at the same problem returning.That leads us to stretch the jaws are involved, but also a symptom for many TMJ relief you desire.It's still sort of originating from around the front of the TMJ symptoms is the introduction of a headache after a long time to retrain your muscles and joints of both the open and close your mouth become pain free!

#Bruxism Pain Awesome Cool Ideas #What Are Possible Causes Of Bruxism

[prettiestrosebud]

Binge Eating

As someone who struggles with binge eating I compiled some helpful information for others who are struggling too. It’s been a really big hurdle for me to conquer through quarantine, but these tips have helped tremendously!

-All binges are caused by the urge to binge - you only binge to cope with the urge to binge and get the subsequent anxiety/anticipatory relief from the craving. There is no greater meaning to your binges. Thinking otherwise will actually validate your binges and make it harder to stop! Many things may trigger an urge, but the actual binge itself is always caused by the thought along the lines of "Hey, let's binge eat right now". Everyone gets stressed, bored, angry, etc. but not everyone binges because they don't get the urge in the first place because they never developed that habit.

-The urge to binge is not you, and comes from a different part of your brain that has no access to your voluntary muscles - yhis explains your ambivalence towards binge eating. Part of you REALLY wants to stop, but part of you feels like it wants to binge eat. The part of you that wants to stop is the real you, and the part that says binge eat can be dismissed.

-You have total control over your voluntary movements and nothing - no thought, feeling, or sensation - can make you binge eat - again going back to "all binges are caused by the urge to binge". Let's do a thinking exercise. Think about shaving your head right now. Really think about it and try to let that thought move your hands. No matter how much you try to convince yourself to shave your head, your hands probably haven't moved an inch. Because you actually don't want to shave your head. And you actually don't want to binge eat either, but you get tricked into thinking you do by thinking that thoughts that encourage binge eating have meaning or significance. If you can accept with 100% commitment that you NEVER want to binge eat and that all thoughts, feelings, and sensations telling you to binge eat are garbage, things become a lot easier. Accept that you have total control. NOTHING can make you binge eat, especially not mere thoughts. You are not powerless.

-Binge eating is nothing more than a really bad habit - how your binge eating habit started doesn't matter because now it’s wired into your brain. Your cravings to binge are just generated neurological impulses to carry out a habit in the same way that your urge to brush your teeth at night is from the same process. There is no greater meaning to your binges. Recognizing the cue for the habit (binge eating) and the reward (relief from the craving) can give you the space you need to stop immediately acting on the habit.

-Neutralize food - the single greatest thing you can do for your mental and physical well-being (after you stop binge eating, of course) is to not let food have so much power over you.Stop treating food like a drug, a medicine, like this great unstoppable force, like your reason for living. It's just a donut. You can eat it and the universe will not explode. You can also not eat it, and likewise you'll be fine. The importance and power you give to food creates stress and causes you to obsess over it. "Should I eat it or shouldn't I?" over and over and over, debating in your head as if your decision will cause WWIII. It's not that high stakes! Seriously. No other inanimate object likely causes you this much stress. Think of food in the same way, i.e. neutrally.

-Neutralize food obsession - normal people are not thinking about food all day outside of their meals. They get hungry, but they don't treat hunger as an emergency. It's just a sensation that doesn't need to be immediately satisfied. If you find yourself anxiously waiting for your next meal or obsessing/fantasizing about food, 1) don't judge those thoughts, 2) accept that they are there/don't try to get rid of them, and 3) don't get so wrapped up in them. These thoughts are no different than thoughts about binge eating. Neutralizing these thoughts and not letting them have power over you will allow you to move on and get back to what you were doing.

-Don’t food orgasm - this one is sort of an aside but don't food orgasm. You know when you're eating something really tasty or you're eating when you're super HUNGRy and you're thinking "oh my fucking god, this is sooooooOOOOoooOOO good!" and you're in complete ecstasy? Stop doing that. You're treating food like a drug. Be grateful for food. Find pleasure in food and see it as an enjoyable activity. But for god's sake don't food orgasm.

All of these things are skills that you can develop. Having the right mindset - believing that you can stop, that you never want to binge eat, that you have 100% power over your voluntary movements, etc. - will be a huge asset in your journey.

-Read and consider these daily (sourced from http://www.rational.org/index.php?id=36&fbclid=IwAR0UpazFsjEyEULUjOAfQ3RNIW4HlUbZrQebpn2M0mSC6hr3za-wNAlBafM and altered) -

1. Imagine how you would feel if you knew for a fact that that you’ll never binge again, that your addiction is already ended, and you’re free at last.

2. Notice your mixed feelings:

(a) freedom and hope for a better life, and 

(b) a sinking feeling related to a life without large amounts of food. 

3.  That sinking feeling is your Beast. The sense of liberation and relief is you. 

4. Your Beast talks in your thoughts. Your Beast is your wild appetite for food, the desire to eat. 

5. You can hear your Beast sowing seeds of self-doubt that you don’t have the self-control to never binge again and stick with it forever. That is your Addictive Voice. 

6. Your Addictive Voice (AV) is any thinking that supports or suggests possible future bingeing. Your AV is the sole cause of your addiction. Your Beast speaks with awesome authority, but it is a mere desire, utterly powerless, a dependent quadriplegic unable to wiggle your fingers.

7. Your Beast:

(a) organizes your thoughts, emotions, and perceptions to support your food addiction forever, 

(b) develops plans for continued bingeing, and 

(c) predicts a gloomy life without the option to binge.

8. Your Beast has only one fear, deprivation of its favorite fix. It fears only one word, “never,” as in, “Never say never.” Therefore, that is exactly what to say: “I will never binge again!” Go ahead. Say it, and mean it. 

9. The more you mean it, the stronger you’ll feel your Beast’s emotional recoil. The more pain for your Beast, the better for you. Say it again, and believe in yourself: I will never binge again. No pain; no gain.

10. Feel the joy of victory! Feel your Beast’s agony of defeat, the sinking, angry feelings.  Shift back and forth between your joy and its agony. As you practice this, you’ll draw the fact of full recovery into the present moment. 

11. You’re fully recovered the moment you say you are. Others will catch on in due time. 

12. Recovery from bingeing now may seem premature, impossible, too simple, or too easy. Or it may seem impossible to guarantee anything because the future is necessarily unknown. Or, you may believe recovery doctrines about addictive disease, powerlessness, and one-day-at-a-time sobriety. If any of these seem so, go to #6, above. 

13. Welcome your Beast into your life as a sign of health, and not disease. Welcome your Addictive Voice as a sign that you know right from wrong. In other words, to your Beast, anything that feels as good as its favorite fix cannot be wrong. To you, nothing could be more wrong than bingeing, in the larger, moral sense of the word.

14. Now, you have two sets of eyes, the eyes of your Beast, and your own, human eyes. The view is amazingly different from those polar opposite viewpoints.

15. Set your confidence for lifetime abstinence arbitrarily at 100%, recognize all self-doubt as your Addictive Voice. Let the Beast count time, and you'll do fine.

Hopefully all this can help others, too. Sending love to all of you as always. x

#bingeeating #be #ed #notproanything #self help #proana #anamia #thinspo #ana