#after a full day of dr visits and then a half shift at work

[grandwretch]

can't wait to roll into my doctors office like hey you know those highly addictive drugs you gave me? well they made me the most productive I've ever been in my entire life. I think we should consider Adderall.

[nonnienonnon00]

Maya and Carina Season 7 potential story line.

For some reason we've never had a scene where Maya has to save Carina. And I just feel that's not ok. We need our wives in a scene like that. Also Stefania needs more screen time. Anyway here's a scene I would love to see tied in with the baby storyline. Anyone know how we can get these potential storylines to the writers lol.

Opening scene

We're at Maya and Carina's apartment. There's shuffling going on in the kitchen. Carina moves around Maya as she tries to ready her wife's coffee for the day. Maya smiles at her wife. Maya has never felt so taken care of before Carina came into her life. She loves every second of it. This nurturing aspect of Carina's personality that will surely fall upon on their kids.

"You know you don't have to make my coffee every morning. I mean, thank you, but you don't have to do it."

Carina pours in the half and half for Maya, turns and cheekily says,

"Bambina, I cannot have you drinking that sad excuse of coffee that you make."

Maya snickers at Carina and grabs her around the waist,

"Ouch! You'd think after all these years you'd be nicer to me."

Carina rests her forearms over Mayas shoulders,

"Well where's the fun in that."

Maya laughs. Her hands slide from her wife's waist to her belly. It had been a few weeks since they did the implantation. Using Andrew's sperm was a worry for Maya but they managed to talk it out thoroughly and came to an understanding. The treatments for Mayas egg retrieval were harsh on her own body but even now knowing that baby DeLuca-Bishop could be potentially developing in Carina, gave Maya all kinds of warm feelings in her body.

"How are you feeling? We're almost at the point of taking a test."

Carina nodded, her eyes glazed over. From all the tests they'd done in the past, this one felt bigger in so many ways.

"I'm nervous. It's a good kind of nervous though if that makes any sense. I'm..."

Her mind felt too full so she just took a deep breath and looked at Maya.

Maya nodded. She knew the pressure must've felt too much but she was going to support her wife no matter what.

"Whatever happens we have each other. We'll have our family one way or another. Trust me."

Maya leaned in, pulling Carina to her body to kiss her with all her might. Her hands moved from Carina's back down further until they grabbed a handful of her wife's ass.

"Hmmm, getting handsy there Bishop."

Maya couldn't help herself,

"OH I'm sorry my hands must've slipped. No idea how they landed there."

Carina laughed and kissed Maya harder, her tongue grazing her lips wanting more. Sadly her phone rang and the moment was cut short. She reached behind Maya to answer, though Maya's hands didn't leave her ass.

"This is Dr DeLuca. Oh hi Stella, yes of course. We're definitely still on for today. I should be there within the hour. Caio."

Carina cut the call and looked at her wife with a sigh,

"I have to go. I'm doing an at home visit for a patient. She's due in a couple weeks."

Maya nodded and then reluctantly let go off her wife's beautiful behind. She rested her hands on her belly one more time,

"OK, maybe when I get back from my shift we can go out get a nice dinner maybe a movie?"

Carina looked down at her wife's hands,

"YES! I'd like that very much. We can make out in the back row of the cinema"

They both laughed then got their bags together to head out for their work day.

They parted with another kiss at the door, walking down to their cars and drove off in different directions.

‐‐--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cut scene to Station 19 crew answering a call of a major fire at an apartment building.

Andy gathered the crew and sectioned them off.

Maya and Jack both tasked with civilian extraction. They entered the building clearing it out floor by floor.

Jack broke down the door to an apartment that didn't look to be evacuated as yet. Upon entering he saw a pregnant woman on the floor of her lounge passed out. The fire was spreading around her into the other rooms.

"Cap we have a pregnant woman passed out here. We need the aid car bringing her down now."

Jack picked her up whilst Maya tried her best to clear the rest of the floor.

They both got out in time with the pregnant woman. She got placed in the triage section with Montgomery and Warren tending to her, she came too, a moment later coughing.

Warren tried to place an O2 mask on her but she pushed it away,

"Did you get her as well? Please tell me you got her..."

Warren looked concerned,

"Mam we need you to calm down and put this mask on. We have to check on you and your baby."

Maya stood over the pregnant woman trying to help. She was concerned that maybe there could've been someone else in that apartment.

The pregnant woman cried out again,

"You have to go check on her. Please! She went into my bedroom to get blankets but the fire was moving so fast. Something fell on her. I think? I'm not sure. You have to go back for her."

Warren tried to placate the woman he could tell that the stress would not be good for the baby,

"Mam was there someone else in your apartment with you?"

The woman held onto Warren's hand,

"Yes, Dr DeLuca. She came over to give me an at home exam. Oh my God. Please you have to go back for her."

In that moment Maya's heart froze. Her whole body froze. The entire team looked at her. She registered the fear in their eyes.

Maya stuttered out,

"Stella?"

"Yes that's my name. Please you have to go help Dr DeLuca."

Maya's body moved without any thought.

No.

No.

This can't be happening.

Not Carina.

Not her wife.

Not her possibly pregnant wife.

She ran towards the building. No thought on her mind but Carina. The windows on one of the floors blew out. Glass landing everywhere.

Jack grabbed her and tried to hold her back.

"Maya the building is collapsing."

She pushed against him, he pulled her back. With all her might she pushed harder until he fell off balance and landed on the ground.

"That's my wife! If you think I'm not going in you're out of your fucking mind."

She ran back into the building grabbing an axe on the floor as she went.

The entrance to the apartment building catching on fire behind her not allowing anyone else to go in after her.

Maya ran up the emergency stairs floor after floor. Nothing but Carina on her mind. Her beautiful kind loving Carina. Her wife. Her whole heart. She gave Carina her heart a long time ago. She ripped it out of her chest and handed it over without a second thought. The pain was unbearable but Maya knew she needed to concentrate to save her wife.

She entered the apartment. The fire was spreading fast. She looked to the only bedroom in the apartment it's doorway closed off by debris and fire. She grabbed the small fire extinguisher in the kitchen and aimed it at the doorway. Hacking through the debris with the axe she entered the room.

Carina lay on the floor passed out. Fire around her. Maya's heart broke in that moment. She looked so small so fragile.

"Carina. Carina."

She knelt down and turned her wife over. A deep gash across her forehead seeped blood onto her beautiful face.

Maya couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her heart broke. She immediately checked Carina's airways. She was breathing thank God. Maya spoke into her comm on her shoulder.

"Andy I have her. I need an aid car stat!"

Maya removed her jacket and placed it over Carina's body. She would do anything to keep her safe even sacrificing her own body in the flames. She placed her mask over Carina's face, then reached under Carina's legs and back, picking her up bridal style. The memory passed through Maya's mind of that moment when they got back together after months apart. She carried her wife over the threshold in all the chivalry she had in her.

"I've got you. I'm gona get you out of here. You're safe with me."

Maya held her wide tight and began making her way out of the building. All the years of exercise and training came in hand for Maya. It wasn't easy carrying Carina but she pushed through. Burning her forearms as she made her way down the stairs and back out of the lobby of the building.

Maya ran with Carina in her arms towards Warren. She knew only he could check Carina out and make sure she's OK.

"Bishop I got her, I got her. Let me take a look."

Maya didn't want to leave her wife's side. Carina was placed on a gurney and then taken into the aid car. She didn't even think twice before jumping in with Carina and Warren. She didn't care that she was about to leave a scene and would probably get a mouthful from Andy. That was the least of her worries.

Warren hooked Carina's almost lifeless body up to the monitors and passed an IV into her arm. Maya looked on in fear. She reached for Carina's hand and kissed it, tears streaming down her face.

"You're gona be ok. You hear me. I'm gona be make sure. I'll protect you, I promise. Just hold on we're almost there."

Maya looked up,

"Ben why isn't she waking up. She's breathing normally right?"

"She hit her head pretty bad. We need to get her to Grey Sloan. They'll take a look. Maya she's going to wake up and be ok."

Maya nodded but the tears continued down her face,

"She might be pregnant. I don't know. We were planning on taking a test soon. She can't leave me, Ben. I won't survive without her."

Ben looked at Maya with sad eyes and reached over to hold Maya's shoulder.

They pulled up at Grey Sloan. Bailey was standing at the ER entrance. Ben ran it down for her as they looked over Carina's body. Maya attempted to walk in with Bailey,

"You can't come with us Bishop. You have to trust us to take care of her."

Maya wanted to protest but she knew she couldn't.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Cut to Maya pacing the waiting room. Hoping and praying that she receives word about her wife.

Bailey walked in with a smile on her face. Maya instantly let out a breath.

"She's ok. She's awake and responsive. She getting a CT scan that bang on her head wasn't good at all. But from our exam we can see that She's going to be just fine. You'll be able to take your wife home by tomorrow Bishop. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have my number OB here."

Maya breathed out deeply,

"Thank you, Bailey. Thank you so much. Can I see her?"

Bailey nodded and walked with Maya to Carina's room.

Maya entered the room and immediately went to Carina's side.

"Hey, you're awake. Gosh, babe, you really scared me."

Carina leaned into Maya's hand that caressed her cheek.

"You got me out. You saved me. Bambina."

There was a cry in Carina's voice. Maya's throat felt tight,

"Of course I did. I told you, you're safe with me. I'll always protect you. You hear me. Always. I don't know what I would've done if..."

A slight cry left Maya's throat.

An intern walked in with charts and handed it to Bailey,

"OK so your results look good. CT came back. You have a concussion so you're going to stay the night for observation and there will no excuses thats an order. You also have slight smoke inhalation so you're keeping that O2 on you hear me. But other than that it's safe to say that you 3 can be out of here by tomorrow midday."

Maya smiled at Carina and kissed her fingers again, she registered what Bailey said but something didn't make sense,

"Wait. You 3?"

Carina turned to look at Bailey also confused.

"Yes, Bishop. You both and baby DeLuca-Bishop should be good to go tomorrow."

Bailey said it almost like it was something obvious. Maya turned to Carina and they both smiled so big at each other.

In that moment, that very second that the knowledge passed over them was the immediate moment their family had officially started.

[voraciousvore]

The Half-Blood Giant (45/51)

***Contains mouthplay***

Chapter 45: Toothache

When Hunter awakened the next morning, the woman he ate had sobered up and was fighting for her life. Unfortunately for her, during the course of the night she had slipped into the next stage of Hunter’s digestive system. Hunter decided to let her live just a little bit longer as he enjoyed the feeling of her crawling around inside his intestines. He went to the cafeteria for a modest breakfast and attended his classes as if nothing were out of the ordinary. For some reason, he had a toothache, and the irritating pain put him in a sour mood. When the woman started making too much noise out of desperation, he got annoyed with her and released his magic to digest her, until she became nothing more than chyme in his bowels. 

For the whole day, Hunter’s molar throbbed and ached. He poked and picked at it with his tongue and nail, but couldn’t dislodge whatever was causing him discomfort. After school, he decided to find a dentist. He’d never been to a dentist before, but he’d read about them in books. He was sure a visit would bring him some relief. Fortunately, there was a clinic close to the school that he remembered seeing yesterday on his way to the wall. He hoped that he didn’t need an appointment. 

He stepped into the reception room, looking lost. Was he supposed to just walk into the back rooms? Was that what was meant by a “walk-in?” Audrey, the receptionist, intervened and flashed him a warm smile. “Hi there, how can I help you?” 

“My tooth hurts,” Hunter grunted. He grimaced as he fingered his jaw. 

“Oh, I see… we have a full schedule today, but I’ll check and see if we can fit you in. Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll be right back?” The cheerful giantess skipped to the back while Hunter lowered his bulk into a flimsy chair that creaked under his weight. He shifted to get comfortable as the armrests dug into his sides and winced as his gums throbbed around his molar. 

Audrey hurried over to Dr. Larson, the head of the clinic, who was busy extracting a rotten tooth from the mouth of a giantess. “Dr. Larson! We have a client who came in with tooth pain. Is there any way we could have him seen?” 

Dr. Larson sighed and shook his head. “No, everyone has a full schedule today. Although... Eren only works half-days now. Maybe you can convince her to stay longer?” 

Audrey’s smile dimmed with uncertainty. “Do you think… it would be okay for her?” 

“That would be up to her,” the dentist replied curtly, focusing on his work. 

Eren was in her own examination room, sanitizing her tools and preparing for the conclusion of her shift. She was having a good day today. All her clients had been nice, friendly giants and giantesses, regulars of hers that she felt safe around. She hadn’t experienced anything stressful to trigger a panic attack. It was her usual routine, with nothing out of the ordinary—just the way she liked it. She was feeling strong.  

Audrey poked her head in with an apologetic look. “Hey, Eren?” 

“What is it?” 

“I know you’re done for the day, but there’s a client with a toothache and everyone else is busy… Do you think you could help him?” 

Eren stiffened. “Is he one of our regulars?” 

“No, I’ve never seen him before. He looked very unhappy though, like he was in pain.” 

Eren swallowed nervously. She didn’t want to stay, but she hated to think a giant would be turned away who was in genuine pain, just because she was weak. She knew that the only way to overcome her fear was to face it head-on. She needed to be brave. She was prepared. She checked her wrist to make sure she was wearing her smartwatch—a compulsive habit of hers. Her compassion won out over her anxiety. She took a deep breath and started suiting up. “Alright. Send him in.” 

Audrey nodded and left, returning a moment later with Hunter. Eren turned around and nearly lost her nerve as she witnessed the biggest giant she had ever seen in her life prowl into the room. He was so tall he had to stoop to fit through the doorframe. He made the full-grown giantess standing next to him look like a child. He glanced around the room blankly for a moment before his nose twitched in recognition of a human scent. He trained his cold green eyes on Eren and she nearly blacked out with terror as those eyes, just like the green eyes in her nightmares, swallowed up the rest of the room. She dropped her scraper tool, panting hard, and took a step back as her knees grew weak. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it might explode.  

“Eren, are you okay?” Audrey asked with concern, walking up to the table. She placed her hand gently around Eren in a protective gesture. Her touch snapped Eren out of her rising alarm. 

“Y-yeah, I’ll be fine,” Eren mumbled, straightening herself out as she placed her hands on Audrey’s finger for support. Hunter quirked a brow as he watched silently. Eren assured herself that her fear was irrational; green eyes didn’t automatically make a giant evil. She checked her wrist again. Her smartwatch was still there. Joey was just a phone call away. 

“Are you sure?” Audrey bent over so her gigantic face was closer to Eren’s level. “Do you want me to stay with you?” 

“No, no. I’ll be fine, really. I’ll—I’ll let you know if... if I can’t handle it...” 

“Okay.” Audrey was reluctant to leave, but she removed her hand and backed out of the room, giving Eren one last look before she left her alone with Hunter. Eren stood tall, but she was shaking like a leaf and kept her gaze focused on her feet.  

“G-go ahead and h-have a s-seat,” she stammered. Her attempt to sound confident and authoritative fell flat with her stutter, but Hunter obeyed with a thin smirk of amusement. The chair groaned under his mass as he sat down. He rested his head casually on his fist, stroking his chin slightly as he observed Eren articulate her platform up to his level. 

“M-mouthwash,” Eren mumbled, almost in a whisper, pointing while averting her gaze. She struggled not to tear up. Hunter didn’t understand why she was so afraid of him, but he enjoyed every second of it as he deferred to her direction and swished around some mouthwash. He spat the minty liquid into the cup and set it aside, leering wolfishly down at her before a twinge of pain in his tooth made him wince. 

“Where does it hurt?” Eren breathed, barely audible. She cringed as Hunter opened his gaping maw right in front of her and pointed at his lower left molar. 

“Right here. I think there might be something stuck in the gum,” Hunter explained. He set his chin on the chinrest and opened his mouth eagerly. He hadn’t expected the dental hygienist to be a human, but he wasn’t going to complain about having such an enticing little female go for a stroll in his mouth—especially one that smelled so good.  

Eren shuddered down to her bones as she felt a gust of hot breath on her face and stared into the huge, drooling maw. She noticed the inside of the mouth was dripping excessively, with big drops of slobber sliding down the cheeks and teeth and pooling on the tongue. She tried to convince herself such a phenomenon might be caused by tooth pain, not hunger. She did observe some redness around the gums where the giant indicated he was hurting. He probably wasn’t lying. Probably. 

She forced herself to move, her hands quivering as she strained against her panic. She had climbed into all sorts of different mouths hundreds of times at her job: Why would this mouth be any different? With shallow breaths, she slid her hand over the plush lip, then her legs, one at a time. Her shoes sank into the soft, moist flesh as she was bathed in humid warmth. She hauled herself over the fence of immense incisors next, onto the impatient tongue. 

Hunter was disappointed when the only thing that contacted his tongue was rubber shoe soles, rather than appetizing human flesh. Nevertheless, the movements of a small prey in his mouth as she walked around on his tongue made him salivate profusely. He so badly wanted to close his jaws around her, tear off the rubber with his teeth, and rub her all over the inside of his mouth. Then, that glorious swallow that would transport her to his internal pleasure center, in his belly... he couldn’t help flexing his throat muscles ravenously at the thought. He felt the tiny human freeze and realized he needed to get himself under control. At the very least, he wanted his tooth fixed first before he even considered eating her. 

Eren jerked away as a large wet drop of slobber slapped into her shoulder from the roof of the giant’s mouth. She needed to remain calm; everything was fine. She froze up as the looming gullet twitched with the throat walls, but that was normal—probably just gulping down excess moisture, right? Her whole body was jittery as she crouched down to examine his molar. In the narrow gap between the primitive white boulders of teeth, she noticed a large, oddly shaped object was jammed at an angle, and partially wedged into the gum. No wonder the giant was in so much pain. 

Eren pulled her hooked dental tool, reminiscent of a scythe, out of her belt and poked it between the giant molars. She carefully wrapped the hooked end around the mystery object and gave it a solid tug. A drop of blood emerged from the gum where the object was stabbing into it. Hunter gasped in pain, making Eren lose her balance as her feet slid across his slippery tongue and she slapped her knees into the squishy, waterlogged surface. “Sorry, but this might hurt a bit,” Eren shouted. Her squeaky voice echoed into his throat. 

Hunter grunted but didn’t protest. Eren carefully maneuvered the food debris out of the gum, trying not to harm the giant any further. After plenty of finessing, the bloody end came loose with a distinct popping sound. Eren tugged and grappled with it before she was able to pull the piece of food out from between the molars. Now that she had the whole chunk free, she could finally tell what it was, and her heart stopped.  

She was holding, in her gloved hand, the lower section of a human man’s leg. The skin and muscles were in the process of disintegrating off the bones, but the leg was clearly identifiable, with a shoe and sock still attached on the foot. A sharp chunk of bone that had been crunched by the teeth was sticking out at an odd angle and had impaled the gum at the base of the tooth, which was why Hunter was in so much pain and couldn’t get the human remains out of his teeth on his own. 

Eren couldn’t breathe as alarm bells screamed in her head. She was in danger; this giant was a man-eater, and she was entirely encompassed by his waiting mouth. She stumbled to her feet and scrambled to escape. Hunter, by pure instinct, snapped his teeth shut so she couldn’t climb out. Eren slashed at the delicate red flesh of his mouth with her dental tool and he opened his jaws with a yelp. Eren vaulted over his front teeth and bellowed, “HELP!” She tapped her smartwatch with her fingers sloppily to send Joey an emergency alert. 

Audrey heard Eren’s cries and rushed over to see what was the matter. Eren was in a raw panic as she clawed at the controls of her moving platform to get away as fast as possible. She was too high up to jump off and run on her own. Hunter spotted the man’s calf and foot that she was still carrying and realized the reason for her sudden panic. He couldn’t let her leave. He seized her in his enormous fist, wrenching the dental tool out of her grasp and casting it aside as she squealed for help. He stood up and was accosted by the giantess secretary. 

“What are you doing? Let her go!” Audrey demanded, grabbing at Hunter’s meaty fist and attempting to pry open his fingers. He smirked and shoved her aside with his superior bulk. She fell down yet bounced back quickly, desperately reaching for Eren, but Hunter held the tiny human high above his head and pushed her away again. Eren caterwauled with fear as Hunter laughed at her helplessness. 

Hunter bent down through the doorway and exited into the hallway and back into the reception area. Audrey tried again to save her coworker, but this time Hunter smacked her down hard, knocking off her glasses, and she wasn’t able to get up right away. Hunter left the building and hurried down the sidewalk, hoping nobody was following him. 

The little human was making too much of a racket; he needed to shut her up. He squeezed and threatened her but she only shrieked louder in response. With a scowl, he dangled her over his open mouth and dropped her inside. Her screams were muffled now, but he was again disappointed by the rubbery taste of her protective garments. He wanted to taste her. He started to chew at the edges of the outerwear, careful not to bite down on the tiny thrashing woman, until he was able to tear off the clothing with his teeth. He spat out the clothes like sunflower seed shells and sampled the woman’s flavor, rolling her around on his tongue. She was meaty, like a high-quality steak, and seasoned with salty tears. 

Eren’s call to Joey did not go unheeded. Fortunately, Joey and Ray were close by, and they sped over in their police cruiser, sirens blaring. As the car approached Hunter, the two cops recognized him immediately and figured out he must be the one threatening Eren. Joey slammed on the brakes and pulled up to him, jumping out of the car.  

“Release the human!” Joey yelled, pointing his gun. Ray ran to his side with a determined look, gun ready. Hunter’s mind raced for a way out, but he discerned in the moment that resisting the cops would lead to a worse result. He couldn’t deny it, since there was a witness at the clinic, and if he swallowed Eren they could force him to throw her back up. He reluctantly complied and spat her out into his palm. She vibrated in his hand as he held her out with his fingers splayed open. 

“EREN!” Joey shouted, surging forward. He briskly holstered his gun and rescued Eren from Hunter’s clutches, holding her protectively against his chest. She sobbed and buried herself in Joey’s shirt, trembling uncontrollably. He wrapped his hands snugly around her, murmuring soothing words. Despite everything that had transpired, Eren still had the presence of mind to hold on tightly to the severed leg. When Joey noticed it and recognized what it was, nausea rose in his throat. He removed the decaying limb from Eren so she wouldn’t have to look at such gruesome carnage. 

While Joey attended to his mini fiancée, Ray took Hunter into custody. “You’re under arrest,” Ray proclaimed, slapping cuffs on Hunter and hauling his oversized body into the backseat of the police car. Hunter’s demeanor unsettled Ray. Despite being arrested, and his superior size compared to the two officers, the giant teenager didn’t resist and seemed unconcerned—amused, even, as if the law couldn’t touch him. He was devoid of any regret or remorse for his actions. Ray slammed the door, locking him in, and tried to ignore the goosebumps prickling over his skin. 

Chapter 46

Chapter 1

[shemarmooresfedora]

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Content/Warnings: mentions of abandonment, unwanted sexual advances (outside character to spencer), swearing, mentions of cheating (doesn’t actually happen), happy ending

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Chapter 10

You woke up with Spencer’s arm lazily draped over your waist. Rain was pitter-pattering against the window.

You rolled over and cuddled yourself into Spencer’s chest.

“Good morning,” he hummed contently.

“G’morning,” you sleepily mumbled.

“Is my little angel tired from last night?” he asked.

“Very,” you nodded, “Do we have to pick Callie up from her sleepover?”

“She’s staying there until after her soccer practice. I have to go back to my house and get some more clothes to bring over here but other than that, my day is wide open,” he gently stroked your hair.

“I just have two appointments later in the day so I’ll have to go into the office this afternoon,” you yawned.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” Spencer tried to shift out from underneath the covers.

“Or…” you wrapped your arms around him once again, “We can get breakfast on the way to your house and then I get some extra cuddle time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead.

-

“Um hello?” Spencer asked as you both approached the woman standing at his front door.

She turned around and Spencer’s eyes practically bulged out of his head.

“Spencer!” she ran to hug him.

Spencer refused to unclasp his hand from yours, making it very clear he had no intention to return the hug.

“What are you doing here, Austin?”

Austin. This was Callie’s mother. The woman who abandoned them both.

“I’m in between jobs right now, figuring out my purpose in life, you know? I just took a bus and ended up back here again. Got me thinking I should stop by and check in,” she smiled like this was just a casual visit from a friend.

“You wanted to stop by after 11 years and no goodbye?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“I could also use a place to crash for a few days. How’s Camellia doing? Does she still do that thing where she twitches her little nose? I always loved that.”

“Don’t act like you know my daughter at all,” Spencer seethed.

“Spencer,” you got in between them, putting your hands on his chest to calm him down.

You turned to Austin, “One second.”

You led Spencer back down the steps, “Look, I know what she did was very wrong but she did give you the greatest gift of all, Callie, so maybe you could invite her over for dinner and she could just sleep on the couch for the night?”

“Just one night?” Spencer confirmed.

“If you don’t do this now, Callie will probably just track her birth mother down later in life without you there to supervise. Lots of my past foster kids have and it doesn’t always end well.”

“Fine,” Spencer relented, heading back up the front steps.

“You can stay with us for one night,” Spencer emphasized, “I will be watching you the whole time you’re with Callie.”

“Deal!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, opting to not give a label.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied with a sickeningly sweet smile.

She loaded her few bags of belongings into the back of the car as you and Spencer grabbed some more of his clothes from inside.

Spencer opted to drive so you headed to the passenger side. Austin grabbed the car door handle at the same time as you.

“Oh I’m sorry, were you going to sit here?” she feigned politeness.

“Yeah, I was,” you narrowed your eyes.

Spencer rolled the window down, “Austin, there’s plenty of room in the back.”

“Oh, of course!” she nodded enthusiastically.

You buckled as Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, in view of Austin. You settled in for the most awkward car ride of your life.

-

“Can’t you cancel? Please don’t leave me here with her,” Spencer begged as you got ready to go in for work.

“I would if they were just check-ups but Timmy has a rash I need to check out and I need to write a script so Jessica can get a refill on her medication. If you really don’t want to be alone with her, come with me,” you replied.

“I would but I also don’t trust her enough to leave her alone in your house,” Spencer sighed.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” you kissed him, “An hour and a half tops.”

“What do I even say to her?”

“You don’t have to say much. You’re already being generous enough to let her see Callie for the night. Just make dinner while I’m gone. You could offer her a bath or something if you want her to get out of your hair,” you suggested.

-

Spencer had offered Austin a bath so he didn’t have to deal with the awkward silence while you were gone.

He got to work cooking Rossi’s famous pasta for dinner, dicing onions and boiling the water. He would check the clock every minute and started a countdown in his head of when you would return home.

He heard the water drain from the tub upstairs.

Fuck, he thought, at least 10 more minutes until you’re home.

Austin sauntered down the stairs after her bath in just her bra and underwear, wearing one of Spencer’s unbuttoned dress shirts over top.

Spencer’s hands flew to cover his eyes, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hopefully you,” she smirked.

“I have a girlfriend, well it’s not official yet but I am very much committed to her,” Spencer stated.

“If it’s not official,” she drew closer, “Then, this wouldn’t be cheating.”

“I don’t care if it’s technically not cheating. I only have interest in Y/N,” Spencer spoke firmly, his hands still over his eyes.

“Just once, Spence…for old time’s sake,” she whispered in his ear.

“No,” Spencer backed up further into the pot of sauce he was cooking for dinner, spilling a bit of the hot liquid on himself.

Spencer opened his eyes at the burning sensation, “Now look what you did,” he sighed frustratedly, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt, “I have to soak this before it stains. I can’t believe you. Why would you think this is okay?”

“Just go wash your shirt, Spencer,” Austin rolled her eyes.

Spencer, being so angry, didn’t hear the door open.

“I’m not finished with you, Austin,” he stared her down.

He heard a squeak from the other side of the room. You were standing there, fresh tears running down your face.

Spencer looked down at his unbuttoned shirt, Austin’s lack of clothes, and recalled the last thing he said.

“Y/N, it’s not what it looks like-” he tried to run after you but you were already out the door, slamming it behind you.

Spencer scrambled outside to where you were starting your car back up again.

“Y/N,” he frantically tapped against the car window, “Please let me explain.”

You didn’t even turn to face him, shifting the car into reverse and peeling out of the driveway.

Spencer stormed back inside, grabbing Austin’s bags, “Get the fuck out of Y/N’s house and get the fuck out of my family’s life.”

“But Callie isn’t even home yet,” she argued.

“Good,” Spencer yelled, “Because it took you less than 3 hours for your true colors to show again. You care about nothing! You didn’t want anything to do with us then so you don’t get to have anything to do with us now,” Spencer escorted her towards the door, “I will not hesitate to file for a restraining order if I see you near me, Y/N, or my daughter ever again.”

“Can I at least change?” she asked as Spencer threw her bags on the front step.

“You were plenty comfortable showing me who repeatedly told you no so might as well show the whole neighborhood,” he slammed the door in her face.

-

How dare he? In your house. Probably in your bed.

You went back to your office because Spencer couldn’t even leave you the dignity to retreat back to your own safe space that was now tainted with bad memories.

Luckily, you had a few pairs of spare clothes that you always kept in the office and a fully made cot in case a patient needed to rest. You settled yourself on the bed, letting the tears begin to fall again, drenching your pillow as you let sleep take over.

-

“Please pick up please please please,” Spencer begged.

“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I can’t come to the phone right now-”

Spencer hung up and hit his head against the steering wheel. He had already said what he needed to say in the previous 20 voicemails, followed by the additional 30 calls he made every 15 minutes, hoping you would pick up.

“At least you’re not blocked?” Callie tried her hardest to put a positive spin on it.

She didn’t know the full story, coming home after soccer practice to see her dad crying on the couch. Spencer told her that her mother had come back and hurt Y/N’s feelings badly because that was essentially what happened, right?

Spencer had been replaying the situation over and over in his head. Yes, it looked bad from the outside perspective but he didn’t think he actually did anything wrong. If only he could find Y/N, explain it to her and have her believe him.

“Have fun at school,” he hugged her goodbye before she hopped out of the car.

“Remember to tell Mrs. Roberts to drop you off at our place, not Y/N’s,” he reminded her.

“Our house is going to feel so dull though. It’s always cold, did you notice that? We don’t even have a cat,” she whined.

“The least we can do is give Y/N her space to process,” Spencer told her, “If she’s ready for us to come back into her life eventually, we’ll gladly take it.”

“If?” Callie grimaced, “How bad did my mother mess this up?”

“I’d rather not say,” Spencer simply stated.

“That sounds promising,” Callie sighed, “Bye, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

-

“Could you give this note to Doctor Y/L/N?” Spencer asked the receptionist.

Y/N,

Your house is cleared out. Despite your previous statement, it is obvious we have overstayed our welcome at the moment. I hope if you give me a chance to explain, it will ease your pain and in turn, mine. I swear to you, angel, nothing happened. I can tell the full story whenever you are ready and I hope you can hear the truth in my voice.

Yours,

Spencer

“Jake Gomez?” he heard you call out.

He turned around to see a little kid hopping out of his seat in the waiting room and following you into the clinic area. You made brief eye contact with him and you looked so broken. It took everything in him not to run up and beg on his knees for your forgiveness.

-

Callie had a big soccer game coming up and you really wanted to go but you also really didn’t want to see Spencer.

Sure, you got his note but he could easily have lied. It was hard to argue with what you saw right in front of your eyes.

You pulled your hair back into a low bun and wore a hood pulled over a hat as well as sunglasses. You made sure to blend in with the crowd of moms.

You saw Spencer about 2 rows of bleachers down, leaning against the fence. God, why did he have to look so good in jeans?

Despite your sunglasses, one of the moms caught the subject of your stares.

“I’m pretty sure he’s single too,” she nudged you, “If I didn’t have a husband, I would be all over that fine piece of ass.”

You just nervously nodded in response.

-

The game had gone into overtime. The teams had to take turns shooting on the opposing goalie’s net. Each team must take 5 shots with 5 different players and whoever makes the most wins.

Callie was put in the stressful position of needing to make the shot to win the game for her team. She took her time, lining up the shot and stretching out her legs.

Callie ran in for the kick, faking left and when the goalie dived, she kicked right.

“Score!” the ref announced.

“Yes, Callie!” you stood and screamed in excitement, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

After the initial shock wore off, you realized Spencer was staring directly at you.

You grimaced, “Um excuse me, sorry, excuse me,” you repeated as you tried to quickly get out of the aisle.

“Y/N, please wait!” Spencer ran after you.

“I came for Callie, Spencer, not you,” you huffed, slowing to a walk because the parking lot was up a hill and you weren’t about to sprint the whole way.

“Please, Y/N, let me explain. I miss you so much, it hurts,” he pleaded.

“Oh you’re hurt?” you asked incredulously, “I’m sorry that me leaving after I found you cheating on me hurt you.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Spencer insisted, “She was coming on to me but I rejected her every single time. I was yelling at her for how inappropriate her behavior was, that's what you walked in on.”

“You were yelling at her with your shirt off?”

“I had my eyes covered at first so I wouldn’t see her indecent but I accidentally backed into the sauce and I didn’t want to stain my shirt.”

You sat there in silence, processing his story.

“Please say something. I’ll do anything to make it right, I need you back.”

A tear fell from Spencer’s eye which was followed by many more.

“I think your story is just crazy enough that I believe you,” you spoke.

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“Really,” you outreached your arms for a hug.

Spencer dove into your embrace like it was his air. He cried into your chest for 10 minutes until he finally met your eyes again.

“I’m sorry, I just thought I was never going to get to do this again,” he squeezed you tighter, “I love you, Y/N, and I want you to be my girlfriend. I actually want you to be more than my girlfriend someday but this is a good start for now.”

“I love you too,” you kissed him, “And just curious, what did you have in mind for the future?”

“I’m going to make you my wife someday,” he grinned.

A/N: one chapter left of this series! 🥺❤️

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @ssacalumsg0lden @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @mggs-sidehoe @rexit-mo @hufflepuffhaze @xoxospencerreid @wifeyprentiss @reidsbookclub @spencersrose @pinkdiamond1016 @muffin-cup

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme @nani-2305 @obsessivelysearching @fantasynerd09 @bvttercupbby @britishspidey @ladyravenclaw @belledawnidk @annesauriol @smokey102 @lady-himbo @kaitieskidmore1 @westanspencerreid @manuosorioh @haylaansmi @unhea1thy0bsessions @meganskane @lovergirl24 @queenariesofnarnia @asexual-booknerd (additional tags in reblog)

[peachy-panic]

WHUMPTOBER DAY 3: “WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”

This is the next chronological piece of Do No Harm, continued directly from this chapter.

Tag list: @whumpervescence  @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump

WARNINGS: Medical procedures, referenced/implied noncon, slavery setting, the usual.

The young doctor seems a bit skittish and far less cruel than the other Facility employees, and that comes with the dangerous notion that perhaps he doesn’t plan on hurting him. But that notion requires a naivety of which Jaime is no longer capable. He, of all people, is aware that cruelty can disguise itself in many shapes and sizes. Just because it isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and that only makes it all the more dangerous.

There’s no use in hoping either way, he decides. Dr. Tate will either hurt him or he won’t, will either touch him or he won’t, and Jaime can’t — won’t — react. He has already made that mistake once today and will certainly pay for it later in ways he doesn’t want to think about now. He would do well to remember that he doesn’t hold any power here. Not in this room, this building, this life. And that, despite any arbitrary written rules, Dr. Tate is free to do as he pleases. 

At least he had removed the restraints from his mouth and wrists. Jaime can console himself with this small mercy. 

Those had always been the worst part of nights with Mr. Torley, on the all-too-frequent occasions he decided to use them. He was clearly very into them, and even more into Jaime’s fear of them. In addition to the claustrophobia they stoked in him, the use of restraints in bed had always felt something like a mockery. What use was it to restrain someone who can’t fight back regardless? The binds on his wrists and ankles were nothing more than accessories. The shackles in his mind did all the work to keep him still. And Mr. Torley knew that.

He does his best not to think about that now. Not to think about Mr. Torley at all, since that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Distantly, he wonders how long the influence of his first Keeper will continue to stain Jaime’s existence beyond the termination of their six-month contract.

Dr. Tate, who has been buried in the cabinets above the sink for several minutes, turns back to him sporting bright-blue gloves that adhere tightly around his slender hands. He meets Jaime’s eyes for half a second before his gaze darts somewhere just to the left of his shoulder. 

“We need to run a couple of tests,” he says in a detached, clinical voice, all notes of lightheartedness from earlier removed. “I’ll need to collect some samples from you.”

Jaime nods once in acknowledgement, squeezing his fingers tightly, unconsciously around the edge of the table. There’s an unnatural pause in his cadence, and Jaime when looks up, he watches a slight twitch of movement in the doctor’s jaw. 

“Please remove your pants and underwear,” Dr. Tate says, his voice taking on a lower pitch. “You can leave them on up to your thighs, if you’d like.”

The slight shift in demeanor sets Jaime on edge, but he doesn’t hesitate at the command, even as a familiar panic claws at the inside of his throat. He drops forward from the table, his legs taking his weight. His thumbs hook the waistband of the thin, cotton pants he had been returned in, and he doesn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation before pushing them unceremoniously off his hips. He takes Dr. Tate up on his merciful offer to keep them partially on his body. The cold, sterile air inside the clinic is sharp against his exposed skin.

Jaime’s eyes find the ceiling as he prepares for the touch he knows is coming. He doesn’t look to see whatever tools and instruments Dr. Tate is laying out on the silver tray beside the exam table. He doesn’t have to. “We need to run a couple of tests.”  Whatever foolish hypotheticals Jaime once held in regards to WRU — what they did and didn’t know about the treatment of their wards — had long been shattered. 

Of course they needed to test him for sexually transmitted diseases. They can’t have a Domestic Companion spreading something to the next paying customer that buys their time and exposing their innocent charade. 

There’s a pause in Dr. Tate’s movement, but Jaime doesn’t look away from his spot on the ceiling tile.

“I’m going to touch you, now.” Dr. Tate’s voice is low and measured. “I need to examine you for bumps or sores, any abnormalities.” He clears his throat. “And I’ll take a swab from your urethra. It might be uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt you.” Another pause. “Please, tell me if it does.”

Jaime’s grip on the table tightens, but he otherwise doesn’t react. Distantly, he is grateful for the warning, the bare explanation, mortifying as it is. He knows that the doctors here are not obligated to explain anything to the Companion patients, to seek consent in any form. Their consent was implicitly given in the contracts they signed at intake. He just as easily could have left Jaime gagged and bound to the table and gone about the procedure without so much as a word to him. Jaime is glad he hadn’t. 

Instead, Dr. Tate’s touch is light and professional. His gloved hands don’t linger, they don’t poke and prod to get a reaction from him. It seems, even, that he touches him as little as possible. Almost as if he is as eager to get this over with as Jaime is, which doesn’t feel quite possible. 

The fluorescent strip of light next to his focal point on the ceiling burns at the edge of his vision, but he doesn’t look away, using the mild discomfort as an anchor to hold himself steady. He concentrates on that instead of the gentle touches, gritting his teeth against any traitorous urges his body might provoke. Mr. Torley had loved that about Jaime — his responsiveness to touch — but not as much as he loved using it against him. 

His stomach sours at the memory, fresh humiliation creeping into his cheeks at the idea of something similar happening now. He doesn’t think Dr. Tate would tease him the way his Keeper had, but he still doesn’t relish the idea of becoming physically aroused in front of this young doctor, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than him and, in another life, Jaime might have found pretty. 

The thought is gone almost as soon as it comes, too painful to linger on. The idea of another life. A normal life. A life at all. These are thoughts Jaime is forbidden to have. The phantom sting of an electric shock lights up the column of his throat and Jaime winces.

“Sorry,” Dr. Tate said quickly, misunderstanding the movement and withdrawing his hand. Jaime’s eyes finally fall to his as the doctor takes a step back, inserting the long swab into a glass tube and sealing it with a cap. “The worst part is over.”

Jaime is numb all over, but he nearly laughs. He knows that having stepped foot in this facility again, the “worst part” has not even begun. 

“I’ll need to collect another sample from your mouth,” Dr. Tate continues, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, and Jaime absently wonders why they even bother wasting extra product on the patients here. “And we’ll draw some blood—” 

Something catches his voice mid-sentence and Jaime’s eyes flick up to his again. Dr. Tate looks at him, and then pointedly, hurriedly away. Jaime swears he can see his pale cheeks reddening.

“You can— We’re finished with that part.” He stumbles out. “Feel free to cover yourself up.”

Jaime does as he’s told, finding it somewhere within himself to be grateful that the doctor had kept the procedure professional. He couldn’t say the same thing for every encounter he’d had in the facility clinic before. 

********

Sebastian knows what happens next, and that’s why he finds himself taking his time with the rest of the visit. As soon as he’s completed the mandated intake exam, he is supposed to mark the patient as cleared in his chart and alert the handlers to come collect him. To take him back into the part of the facility where Sebastian has never set foot; the “residential” wing where the unclaimed Companions are housed between contracts. On all the promotional advertisements, it’s depicted as a dormitory-like accommodation. Now that Sebastian knows just how little truth exists behind their lies, he can only imagine it’s nothing of the sort. 

His mind conjures images of iron-barred cells and concrete rooms, of medieval dungeons with chains and darkness and filth. It’s a sensationalized version of what he assumes is probably the truth, but that doesn’t mean the reality is any less horrible. After what he’s seen in his time here and everything he’s heard, he has no doubt that the people who are forced to reside here between Keepers are subject to the company’s own brand of horror. Frankly, he’s in no hurry to turn his patient back over to their hands a moment sooner than he has to.

The boy is silent and entirely pliable throughout the whole exam, allowing himself to be moved when necessary and not so much as flinching when the needles for the blood draw break his skin. Sebastian is glad when the more… invasive parts of the exam are over. The boy had been no less compliant during them, maybe even the opposite, but Sebastian hadn’t missed the subtle changes in his posture, the way the muscles in his hands clenched and released around the edge of the table as he touched him as little as possible. 

He had looked up at the ceiling instead of at the wall behind Sebastian, as he had done previously, and Sebastian had silently prayed that the position wasn’t intended as a way to hold back tears. He doesn’t know how he could live with himself if he made this kid cry.

When the blood has been drawn, the test samples submitted for lab processing, and a full physical performed, Sebastian has run out of ways to delay the inevitable. He closes out of the boy’s patient profile on his screen and turns to him, hands folded professionally in front. 

“I’ll need to alert the handlers that your intake exam is complete,” he told him, probably unnecessarily. He hadn’t looked to see how long he had been in the system, but from his behavior, he assumes it’s been long enough to break his spirit. He probably knows these protocols better than Sebastian ever wants to. “They’ll come and escort you back to the residential quarters.”

110750 nods once without looking at him. “Thank you,” he says flatly. Then, there is a moment of pause before he lifts his eyes and seems to level Sebastian with something more sincere. “Thank you for… for letting me get cleaned up.”

Sebastian feels like shattering into pieces all over the cold linoleum. Instead, he tries for a smile and lands somewhere in the realm of a tight, thin line at his lips. “Sure,” he says, a bit mortified to hear the crack in his voice. 

He watches 110750 take slow, measured breaths as Sebastian makes the call he desperately wishes he didn’t have to make. He tries not to stare as they wait in tense silence for the handlers to arrive. Of course, Sebastian could leave the room if he wants. The intake procedure is done, and so is his minimal obligation to patient care. But something feels wrong about leaving him. More than that, something feels utterly wrong about this boy being taken out of the clinic, away from his line of sight, where he can’t see what will happen next. He only knows it won’t be good. 

A split second before he hears the clinic doors whoosh open, Sebastian steps closer to his patient, lowering his voice to a quick, urgent whisper. “Keep an eye on that broken nose,” he advises. “If you have any trouble breathing as it heals, please don’t hesitate to let your assigned handler know that you need medical attention, okay?”

The boy hitches in a breath but doesn’t respond. Sebastian takes half a step closer. 

“Look, you have a right to medical assistance,” he says, the words feeling like treason on his tongue despite knowing their written truth. “Even here. Even now. You can always come see me here if you need to. They can’t legally prevent you from requesting care. Do you understand?”

Unexpectedly, something dark flashes in the boy’s eyes. Something less like the fear and dread he had witnessed earlier, and something much more akin to anger. Anger at Sebastian?

Before the interaction can go any further, they are interrupted by the unceremonious swing of the exam room door. The same two men who had brought him in - one with a fresh bandage on his face - push their way in, stepping between Sebastian and his patient. 

“Up you go, 7-5-0,” Handler Hernandez barks, and the boy is on his feet before he can finish the command, his hands behind his back, head bowed. 

“Oh, look who finally decided to behave,” the other one - Smith, maybe? - taunts as he sizes him up in a way that makes even Sebastian’s skin crawl. Just as he had prior to the visit, the man shifts his gaze to him, a sneer permanently embedded into his expression. “Does he get a lollipop for good behavior? Maybe a sticker?”

The boy doesn’t look up at him, but Sebastian thinks he sees his throat move. He feels a swell of rage rise into his throat, coming to a boiling point for the second time since he entered the room with this boy, but he swallows it back, keeping as level an expression as he can manage. 

“He was perfectly agreeable,” he responds tightly, refusing to play into whatever mockery he’s initiating. 

Smith answers him with a dismissive snort, turning his attention back to the boy like a predator who just found fresh meat. “What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, the thick rubber of his boots squeaking against the tile as he takes a step too far into the boy’s personal space. “Think we can go the easy way back, or would you prefer to do things the hard way again?”

The beat of silence in the room is painful as they await his response, which comes eventually in a subdued voice, through slightly gritted teeth and with his eyes on the floor. “The easy way. Sir.”

A snort from Hernandez breaks the tension. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, he is escorted from the room and seems to take with him all the air in Sebastian's lungs. Naively, desperately, he hopes for the briefest moment of eye contact before he’s taken away from him. But his eyes stay downward, even as a large hand curls around his bicep and makes him stumble in his gait as he’s yanked forward. Sebastian watches helplessly as he disappears from sight, one singular thought slicing through his mind on a loop:

Who did this to you?

[quitealotofsodapop]

MvA assorted headcanons

General:

So many years together has made the core monsters inseperable. If something affects one member, it affects the group.

All. The. Monsters. Are. Family.

It takes Susan a while to understand inside jokes and past incidents because of being the most recent addition.

There are Other anomalous creatures kept in Area 5X, but they are either non-sentient and/or are too dangerous to be kept around the more human-friendly monster group.

Area 5X is so gotdang big because they were expecting a lot more kaijus like Insecto to crop up. Sadly not many have surfaced to justify the space.

There’s a hangar in Area 5X full of wrecked UFOs. Some are spacecraft wreckage while others are stuff like weird meteors (Susan’s is in there), and at least one alien creature that got crystallised upon entering Earth’s atmosphere.

There’s significant difference in staff employed at different points throughout the past 50 years. There are far more women on the Area 5X worksheet than back in the 50s, and the guards are generally more sympathetic towards the monsters. Many modern staff members have been reprimanded or let go for failing to uphold secrecy, or for unnecessary cruelty towards the monsters.

Budget cuts were a legitmate concern up until the Battle of Golden Gate Bridge. The facility was far more barebones and sterile before the government had to formally recognise Area 5X’s importance. There have been a lot of redecorating at the facilty since the fat checks started coming in.

Putting individual characters under read due to length.

Susan:

Enjoys many hobbies considered stereotypically feminine; baking, sewing, cosmetics, etc...

Grandparents and extended family are farmers or are atleast connected to the business. Modesto is the agricultural centre of California after all. Her parents were the first of their generation to go against the mold and seek out white-collar careers.

Studied cosmetology in school and was working at a beauty salon to save up for her and Derek’s wedding.

Is very athletic and grew up doing a number of physical extracurriculars like cheerleading, dodgeball, and roller-derby.

Grew up being teased for being the shortest kid in her class/family. They still tease her for it.

Greatly fears causing collateral damage and/or harm to others through her size.

Has issues with anxiety, worsened only by her new job as “savior of earth”. She wishes for a confidant to tell her worries to.

Married life with Derek was doomed to fail. Susan had a plan in place for what came after the marriage, and focusing 100% on Derek’s career was not it. There’s also the line from Derek’s mother about Susan being “the weatherman’s wife”, implying that she was to be the homemaker and not have a career of her own. It’s possible that Susan was planning to settle down and have kids with Derek, but the lack of control she had in moving to Fresno implied that more was going on.

Is currently “taking a break” from love and dating, despite gaining many new admirers.

Tries her best to return to Modesto to visit her family and friends whenever possible, though work often keeps her away for weeks at a time.

If she retains her height-shifting abilities as in the series; Susan goes through really bad “growing” pains.

Link:

Was frozen in his relative late-teens during a cold snap. Got shifted around until he ended up somewhere in Greenland before being discovered by modern humans. Post-thaw he went a bit wild, swimming frantically back south to try and find his old enviroment.

Was one of many scrappy youngsters in his troop, with a number of adoptive parents. The strongest ruled the troop, and Link was fairly weak in comparision to the leaders. He had gotten into a fight the day of his freezing (over something silly in hindsight) and swam away to sulk. When he didn’t return after the cold snap - the troop accepted that he had likely died out on his own.

Likes to freak out humans by making up weird biology facts about his species and ones he’s fought against - like joking about laying eggs or having his tail dettach and regrow like a lizard. However there’s some things he has to ask about, because he doesn’t have medical knowledge or words to describe something.

A lot of his macho behavior came from imitating the guards who kept watch on him. 1950s violent military alpha males aren't a very good role model for someone who doesnt know what societal norms are yet. Link was a lot more insufferable back in the day but chilled out as he began interacting with other walks of life.

Has a high paternal instinct and immediately becomes softer around kids and smaller animals.

Has body language similar to a cat/alligator. Slaps his tail when angry or in deep thought. And yes; Link purrs/rumbles when happy.

Loves monster movies - especially the ones where the monsters “win”. He cried when he saw “Beauty and the Beast” and then immediately booed loudly when the Beast turned human.

Does Not Trust doctors or scientists due to bad past experiences. Will only go to Dr Cockroach and Monger if he ever gets hurt/ill. Gets stressed fast if he has to be in a waiting room or doctors office.

Link had no idea what gender indentities or orientations were until recently - he did come from a pre-human civilization that really didnt mind/care about the schemantics. It took him some time to wrap his head around it. He identifies himself as bisexual after much thought and many hours alone on the computer.

Don't press him about his body. He's built different from humans and cis people. He will punch anyone who doesnt respect his or anyone elses identity.

Has been in love before. It didn’t end well.

Will occasionally wear clothes, but finds it a challenge to find anything that fits him. Will give any shoes he finds to Dr Cockroach and BOB to eat.

The best driver/pilot out of all the monsters.

Dr Cockroach:

True name is Jaques-Yves Herbert. Prefers to just go by "Dr Cockroach" because he dislikes the association with his birth family.

Picks up human languages very easily, although not as quickly as he can understand animals.

Parents were a mixed scientist couple. His father was an aggressive “Strong British Man” that would beat him son down for not following orders or for not meeting his standards for a man. Dr C turned down both chances to attend his parents funerals.

This man isn’t straight. He probably uses old-fashioned slang when asked about romance such as; “I am Uranian” or “I wear a green carnation”. It took Susan a few times to realise what he meant, as she is used to a more open minded enviroment.

Got the idea of transforming into a cockroach from reading Franz Kafkas “The Metamorphosis” as a child. He sympathized with Gregor’s abusive situation, and began considering the possibilties of how one could survive better as a creature like a cockroach.

Studied in biology and entomology in the Uk before moving to the states to follow engineering. Obtained his degree in Dance as a “side gig” in University.

Has been barred from free access to the coffee maker/machine due to overnighters. Once stayed awake so long that he forgot the letter “R”.

Owned a terrarium of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches throughout college. He mourned each of them when his roommate’s iguana got into the tank.

Was a "beatnik" back in the day and still kinda is. Embraces and encourages modern counterculture as he himself was not given such acceptance in his youth. He has however shamefully eaten his old Lenny Bruce album.

Hasn’t actually aged physically since his transformation. He attributes this to the fact that certain athropods can’t age physically beyond maturity. Link is very jealous.

Has obtained more degrees while in captivity, as Monger allowed him access to research and learning materials. He has however had his allowances revoked for previous escape attempts/doomsday devices.

Does still enjoy human food, but the cockroach instinct of "eat detritus" tends to overrule his eating choices. Can’t cook either.

Ironically a terrible driver. The damages from previous drives has made Monger restrict him from operating even a razor scooter.

BOB:

Pretty much considers himself human. Was created by them, raised by one (Monger), and talks like one. Gets sad when he's reminded that no other humans are blue blobs like him.

Absorbed some dna from the scientists present at his "birth", leading to his eye, speech, and omnivorous diet.

Doesnt actually need to breathe (as he can just absorb oxygen through his mass) but the fact that humans Do means that BOB thinks he has to as well.

Shares some physical characteristics with tomatoes/nightshade plants, as he is technically half tomato. He refuses to eat tomatos for this very reason, considering it cannibalism.

Attracts garden pests looking for a tomato plant. This unwittingly makes BOB a pretty good bug zapper.

Still retains his "mental broadcast" ability from "BOB's Big Break" although at a more subtle level. He tends to parrot the things he accidentally "eavesdropped" on.

Is empathetic, and can tell when others aren't doing ok emotionally. Will flop down on someone who’s really sad to comfort them. No brain, only heart.

Best cook out of the monsters. If he doesn’t forget what he’s making at least.

"Whats a gender? Can I eat it?"

Insectosaurus:

Core body is that of a Japanese Silkmoth, although she ended up being spliced with other animals present on the island during her initial mutation; namely ants and ground squirrels.

Eats over a literal ton of mulberry leaves per day. Also enjoys oranges.

Secretly wishes to be more humanoid.

Was only able to pupate and transform due to physical trauma. It seems that her transformation was like a “power-up” that required her to be in geniune distress for it to activate.

First language is Japanese. She learned it from the intial recovery team, and later developed an understanding of English from years in Area 5X.

Goes into torpor in cold weather. Pretty much impossible to wake her up for missions during Winter, as she needs to “rev up” before becoming mobile.

Still very much Link’s best friend. Still enjoys sports, chicks, and beer.

Monger:

Full name is; Warren Rex Monger.

Is very protective of the monsters and will defend them to the death.

Pretty much raised BOB (as seen when BOB was a baby blob in “Night of the Living Carrots”), and considers him his “freaky gelatinous son”.

Has a reputation of being a “control-freak” due to his aggressive overseeing of the monsters’ containment. This toughness is partly because of incidents that occured without his knowledge. Lets just say some scientists have been wedgied/fired for running experiments on the monsters without Monger’s approval.

Has a very “Ron Swanson” emotional response and view of the world. Crying is acceptable only at funerals and at the Grand Canyon (if he hadn’t lost his tear ducts in the war).

Has been married multiple times. Will not confirm or deny if he is currently seeing anyone.

Invisible Man/TiM:

Legit got out but no one at Area 5X is sure how. He suffered a geniune medical emergency and disappeared after surgery. The other monsters were informed that he died from complications to deter them from getting escape ideas.

Is able to be detected in Infrared light. Dr Cockroach managed to rig up goggles to view TiM in case of injury and to foil pranks.

Was a scientist working on an invisibility potion for the military and used himself as a guinea pig. Hasn’t actually been able to replicate his results since - thinks the effect may have been caused by a genetic abnormality.

Dr Cockroach and him are massive rivals. Both actually met eachother pre-transformation through a CalTech expedition. This makes the pair one of few people that have seen the others human face.

Is 100% naked. Was forced to wear clothing once this was discovered.

A massive prankster and a cynic. Him and Link were a force to be reckoned with.

Has revisted the facility multiple times and has started a number of ghost stories.

Any additions are welcome! I proably have alot more to dump about. Might make one of the alien characters from the series

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 8 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

She almost lost her balance when she saw her next customers. Standing beside Kakashi with her arm entangled in his was a brunette, a spitting image of Dr. Aki Nohara, a giveaway that this was her sister. Sakura’s surroundings dimmed out of focus, and her hearing became muffled as if she was submerged underwater.

“Couldn’t mistake that green eyes for anyone,” Kakashi continued. “I’ll have a caramel butterscotch with extra whipped cream – make it super heavy – and Rin –“

“That’s supposed to be my order, you dummy,” the woman replied beside him. He chuckled in fascination and tightened his hold on her arm. “Besides, you don’t like sweets.”

“You’re still on a specialized diet so allow me to eat and drink whatever you want while you stick with – “ Kakashi glanced at Sakura, and she immediately mustered a tight-lipped smile. “One iced americano in your smallest size please. Thanks, Sakura.”

She took in a deep breath, suddenly aware that she wasn’t able to acknowledge her teacher and his companion, but so many things have been running through her head – like how did he know it was her? Why was he with Rin? Did he propose already? She hasn’t even confessed yet.

Somehow, in the dragging silence in her ears, she heard Sasuke cleared his throat. That was enough to break her from the spell, and she put on her bravest mask. “Hi Kakashi-sensei. Nice of you to drop by! I’ll have your order ready in a jiffy.”

Kakashi turned around and waved lazily at Sasuke. “One of my students is here too. Are you on a red eye advance study?”

“Can’t sleep so might as well have caffeine.”

“You’re too young to have this energy.”

Rin jokingly slapped Kakashi on the arm. “You talk as if you’re old already.”

“But aren’t I?” The pair slowly drifted away to find a table, but Sakura noticed the flash of recognition when Rin took a long good look at Sasuke, but her friend stared at them like he was throwing sharp draggers.

“He looks happy,” Sakura noted as she fixed their drinks.

“I want your favorite coffee,” Sasuke quipped out of nowhere.

“There’s a thing called palpitations. It’s caramel macchiato.”

“Might do me some good while I wait for you to finish your shift.”

Sakura sighed, feeling the tiredness come upon her all of a sudden so she relented. “Just take it to-go. I want to get out of here.”

She quickly asked permission from the manager, saying she felt sick and fatigued, and with her clocking overtime in the past few weeks, her request was immediately approved without deductions. The mixed winter and spring air hit her lungs as soon as she stepped outside. Sasuke waited for her across the street, a gesture that implied she could go to him or separate ways right now. As she vied for time to decide, she took one last look through the window.

It was a foreign sight. She has never seen Kakashi’s attention torn apart from his books. Even if he was talking, there would be an open page on his side, stealing glances on passages when the conversations got boring, yet there he was, fully attuned to whatever Rin was saying with no book around him…like she was his favorite book and he enjoyed reading every letter of her.

And Sakura realized she could never be the story he would even want to pick up.

She felt the tears coming so she started her pace on the same road. Across from her, Sasuke got the signal and went the other way.

--------------------------------

The last term of their second year came like a bazooka. Sakura threw herself on her pet project as a sort of coping mechanism. The announcement was done during the general assembly which did not generate the intended buzz or reaction. After all, it was a tricky topic to handle and many facets of which were still stigmatized when talked openly in public. Naruto, ever the people magnet, broke the agitated atmosphere in the auditorium with a slow clap and was soon joined by many others.

The council created a Google form which allowed students to anonymously register, and they get assigned a schedule on the day their contracted psychiatrist comes to visit. All they had to do was provide their designated client number. The council further complemented this with short programs that serve as mental health breaks for the student body. Sometimes, this would be as light as a block screening of a coming-of-age film or heavy like a conference with faculty and teachers and questions and concerns are remotely flashed.

Then came Valentines’ Day, and the council organized this some kind of literary showcase that presented the opportunity to mingle woes of personal sadness and griefs with confessions that would have been left unsaid. Naruto and Sasuke both helped in constructing the makeshift stage in the middle of the soccer field that would be used later that afternoon.

“Cookie points for my crush,” Naruto grinned as he hammered away. “Thanks for picking the poem I will be reciting tonight, grumpy. Didn’t know you were into literature.” He jokingly elbowed the raven-haired beside him, and he got a death glare in return.

“Do it properly. Look at that nail sticking out like your porcupine hair,” Sasuke grumbled. “And yes, I’m not as uncultured as you are.”

“But I still don’t understand it though.”

“Ugh, just use the internet to search its meaning, idiot.”

“Meanie!”

A fellow runner peeked into their work area and knocked on wood. “Hey Uchiha. Some girl is looking for you.” Her face expressed grimace, having done this for more than five times already within the span of an hour. If it wasn’t Sasuke, it was one of Naruto’s fan girls or boys.

Sasuke went to her and fumbled around for cash in his pocket. “Next time someone looks for us, tell them we went home for the day. Here’s money for your date later. If you have anyway.”

“Whatever grumpy.” The runner replied, still half-angry, half-frustrated, but she took the money all the same and told the girls that ‘They told me to tell you they went home for the day so shoo shoo.’

Naruto laughed at Sasuke’s successful attempt at bribery. “Look at that rich money. I wonder whether Sakura will give us chocolates.”

“Have you seen their office?” Sasuke flipped open the curtains that will be hang as backdrop. “Their desk is filled with chocolates from her admirers – platonically, romantically, whatever. Some people from other schools dropped by too. You got serious competition.”

Naruto chuckled nervously. “As if I do not know that already. Haven’t you told me before- she likes everyone and everyone likes her.”

Not really true at all now, Sasuke thought to himself. But ignorance is bliss, Naruto.

--------------------------------

The three sat on the grass beside the stage, having full view of the student body listening to the reciters. Throughout the program, Sakura went through each package given to her, visibly stressed with evident signs of sleepless nights under her eyes.

“Before I forget, happy Valentine’s day you two. My council-mates told me you didn’t get any chocolates,” Sakura gave each of them a pouch of small chocolate bars. Sasuke didn’t have to guess if it was store-bought or homemade based on the cuts on her fingers.

“Sakura, stop eating. I almost gagged at the seventh chocolate,” Naruto complained. He tried to get the basket of sweets from her, but she just moved it away from his reach.

“Everything tastes bitter,” she muttered under her breath. “I need sugar. My energy can’t keep up with the countless interviews. I understand that the school board liked the exposure, but the burden falls on me. At least have a teacher back me up?”

“Heard Kakashi-sensei volunteered to accompany you in interviews?” Sasuke was too late in shutting Naruto up, but the most that question got out of Sakura was an eyebrow raise.

“I need more sweets.” She proceeded to jam the rest of the Hershey’s kisses in her mouth.

“Okay, we have a submission from Uzumaki Naruto,” the announcer said. “Shout out to our rookie MVP!” A round of applause. “And who might be the recipient of this poem? We heard through the grapevine that he hid from his admirers all day. I know several people are waiting to confess to him!”

Sasuke instructed him earlier to send the poem anonymously and address it to Sakura, but the dumbass blonde mistakenly exchanged it. He rubbed his forehead in annoyance, but he can’t bring it up right now.

“Just read the poem!” Naruto shouted on the side, clearly embarrassed now. Sakura looked up at him, genuinely curious now, and her sticky chocolate-filled mouth was on the edge of firing him questions.

“Sasuke and I sent in poems! Just to support your program, nothing really too deep into it ehe.” Naruto glanced at Sasuke with slightly widened eyes. “Right, Sasuke?”

“Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare,” the person started.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

Sakura slapped Naruto on the arm. “Didn’t know you read Shakespeare! What a romantic!”

“Isn’t it a tragedy?” Sasuke remarked, a look of disgust in his face when Sakura mindlessly offered him a toblerone. “No sweets for me.”

Sakura guffawed at Sasuke’s remark, and her laughing was a rare sight recently. She was in too deep in her student council functions that they barely see her. And when they did, she’d be a little bit closer to fatigue.

“What’s funny? Who’s Shakespeare? Let me in on the joke!”

“Let’s call on Kakashi-sensei, our very own student council advisor and youngest teacher in the university. He’ll be reciting a poem by Pablo Neruda. A man of culture, we see,” the emcee announced.

Sakura stopped laughing as soon as she heard his name. If Sasuke could glean into her thoughts, she’s probably making up excuses to escape right now.

Kakashi stood in the middle of the stage, holding an open book. “Let me just ramble on here for a bit. Neruda is a Chilean poet and a politician, but just as much as he is a revolutionary, he is a romantic and a worshipper of ideals and ordinary things. He often compared his muses to earth and nature – basic providers of our existence. It’s interesting to see. Now, this poem is what I would have wanted to say to someone who is fundamentally part of my existence, but she won’t listen to me.” Kakashi smiled even more at the onset of outburst of giggles from the students. “So you’re gonna be the audience whether you want it or not.”

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

A thundering applause followed Kakashi’s poem and random shouts of, “Drop her name sensei!” “Good luck to your love life!” “Happy for you, sensei!”

As the lights went out on the stage, Sakura fished another pouch from her vest pocket, and Sasuke knew at once that it was Kakashi’s. She popped a bar into her mouth, staring blankly ahead.

“God, it’s so bitter.” Her lips started to quiver, and she started to cry.

Naruto threw a worried glance at Sasuke, but his expression must have given something away because the blonde didn’t prod, and he looked as if all the puzzles fell into place.

Sasuke just didn’t expect to be confronted about it as soon as the program finished. He was carrying blocks of wood to the shed when Naruto dropped the question – a question he already knew the answer to.

“You like Sakura.”

Sasuke inhaled sharply and halted his steps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stacked the wood against each other and turned to face the blonde. “Besides, shouldn’t you be worrying about exams?”

“What exams? We’re exempted from it,” Naruto bristled.

Sasuke smirked. “No, you’re not. You didn’t qualify for finals.”

“Oh shit.”

--------------------------------

“What do we get in return?” Sakura asked as she munched on her bento box. Shouts of the practicing dragonboat team filtered through their space.

“But last time you volunteered!” Naruto said.

“We’re friends so my services don’t come free anymore,” she chided back.

Naruto glared at Sasuke. “If she’s not gonna do it, you’re gonna do it.”

Sasuke nonchalantly shook his head as he skimmed through Naruto’s notes. “What she said.” They weren’t notes per se, but doodles of Sasuke and Sakura and interestingly, projections of different batting stances. “I’m also not gonna forgive you with the duck butt hair.”

“But you have a duck butt hair!” Naruto crossed his arms and huffed menacingly. “Ramen?”

“Same old, same old.” Sakura finished her lunch and started to sip her cranberry juice. “Give us something new.”

“Ramen and…..karaoke?”

Sakura brightened up at the prospect. “Deal.”

“At least add snacks to your place,” Sasuke interjected. “And not just ramen. Put some nuts or fruits in your fridge.”

Naruto grumbled but raised two thumbs up in defeat. “Deal.”

--------------------------------

Sasuke has thin patience when it came to teaching Naruto, Sakura observed. She didn’t know how these two managed to do the supplementary math lessons when she wasn’t a part of their group yet. She didn’t mind teaching, but Naruto’s short attention span was a devil of its own. He would be attentive to her for 15 minutes and then drowse off so Sasuke and her agreed on non-negotiables.

“No ramen break for you if you don’t finish this set of problems,” Sakura told him.

“You’re demon spawns,” Naruto cried out in defiance.

“If you don’t get a passing score on this sample test, no kani toppings for you.” Sasuke raised the stakes.

“Demon spawns,” Naruto repeated.

“You won’t call us demon spawns if you see your name on the list of passers.” Sakura started the stopwatch on her phone. “Now go.”

This took her mind off things, from Kakashi’s public confession to the blank career form hidden within the pages of her history textbook. It was a good distraction until the penultimate exams day. Naruto came in with a bandana on his forehead with FIGHTING written in the middle of it. Sasuke, as usual, breezed through it, already finished by the thirty-minute mark.

And she? Well, she liked exams. The time limit and the pressure allowed her the reprieve to shut the rest of the world out so she relished answering each number until the bell rang. It was a moment where she can focus fully on the paper in front of her, the sound of her pen scribbling, and her mind working full force to cull out the answers in her memory. Her utmost concentration on questions suspended her own questions on her feelings for a teacher, on her parents’ divorce, on her future.

When the school plastered the results on the bulletin board, she couldn’t help but release a satisfied chuckle. She turned to Sasuke who was surprisingly stoic about the results. “First place! The bonus point really helped.”

“Why should I bother with a teacher’s middle name for the bonus question?” Sasuke grumbled back. “Congrats. Stop rubbing it in my face already.”

Naruto was too busy pointing his name on the board and bragging about it to the student body, most especially the freshies. When he found them on the back of the crowd, he rushed to them and placed his arms around their shoulders “Drinks on me!!!!!”

--------------------------------

“He really shouted drinks on me in the middle of the school, sauntered in here like he’s loaded, and ordered two pitchers of iced tea.” Sakura kept bringing this up since they entered the karaoke room ten minutes ago.

Naruto was preoccupied with inputting song numbers on the machine to respond to Sakura’s banters. “Technically, they’re still drinks!”

Sasuke was on the phone with the kitchen, and from what she could hear, he was ordering almost everything on the menu. When he sat down on the adjacent couch, Sakura leaned forward to him. “Are you gonna finish all of that?”

He jutted his index finger to Naruto. “No, but he will.”

The first notes of Michael Jackson’s Thriller wafted through the room, and the blonde made a quick impression of the artist’s famed moonwalk.

“Why are you opening with that?” Sakura cried out in amusement. “It’s not even Halloween!” Sasuke watched Naruto try to dance with a straight face, but she thought he was itching to face palm the whole time.

Naruto kept beckoning Sakura to join him in the middle of the room, but she was busy laughing at him and taking videos. “I’ll send these to Haru as a pick-me-up. I think this is the best remedy.”

Next was Sakura’s pick – Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle. She couldn’t contain her laughter in between verses when the two boys finally heard that she was tone deaf. Naruto joined her with the other mic, trying to drown out the off-key notes. By the bridge, Sasuke stood up with them, a glass of juice in his hand, and mouthed the words.

“You know this song!” Sakura said excitedly.

“I don’t live under a rock!” He yelled back amid the loud music.

“OOOH BABY DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S WORTH OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH. THEY SAY IN HEAVEN, LOVE COMES FIRST. OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH!”

“Okay who’s next?” she asked when the next number flashed on the screen. Sasuke silently took the mic from her and faced the monitor with a hand in his pants’ pocket.

Naruto gripped the mic harder when the song started. “I’ll be your second voice, grumpy!”

She immediately went to the front and started recording. “One for the road.”

“No videos, Haruno,” Sasuke warned.

“Come on, it’s my remembrance,” she whined. He wasn’t able to clap back when the lines started to move.

“Turn around…” Naruto sang.

“Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round,” Sasuke’s baritone voice filled the room like an empty coliseum.

“The fuck. You can sing?” Sakura gasped out loud. “How can you have that voice and not sing - like you know, every day?!”’

Sasuke gestured her to stop as he belted, stoic-faced, through the chorus with Naruto singing like a slaughtered pig in the background. Sakura stopped recording and joined them for the rest of the song.

Two hours and three pitchers of orange juice later, they finally settled on the couch and munched on Naruto’s leftovers of fries, buttered chicken, nachos, and calamari. On the karaoke monitor was David Bowie singing Heroes.

“Can’t believe we’re already seniors two months from now.” He stared at the ceiling, his eyes following the tag game of disco lights. “Elections of officers will be tomorrow which means Captain Haru will be formerly stepping down.”

Sasuke reached out and shook his hand. “Good luck next captain.”

Naruto immediately pulled out from his grasp. “What do you mean next captain?”

Sakura chuckled and patted his back as assurance. “Everyone knows it’ll be you. Have you seen how your teammates look at you when you’re discussing strategies?”

In the dimness of the room, she saw the flush on Naruto’s cheeks, and she found it amusing how he cannot take compliments.

Naruto scratched the back of his head. “Well, everything is possible, right? That said, I still haven’t filled out my college form, but I’m really set on getting an athletic scholarship and eventually be part of the national team! How about you grumpy? Changed your mind yet?”

“About what?” Sakura glanced at the silent raven-haired guy beside her. To be able to see this much of him was a nice privilege.

“I’m moving away after high school.” Sasuke fiddled with his half-empty glass, his eyes trained on the slushing juice. “I already sent applications to some universities in Europe.”

“We also have good medicine programs here. I don’t get why you have to move away so far. I’m so bad with converting time zones.”

Sasuke scrunched his nose in annoyance. “Are you dumb? The schools you listed are also out of this district.”

She seemed to be moving farther and farther from their exchange. Like an outsider peeking in, she understood the frailty of the moments in front of her, and by the time the next two months set in, the stopwatch would have started running its last lap. The bonds she has made so serendipitously were in danger of being cut off by dreams. She breathed in, engulfing the noise and scent of this room, panning every color and shape assembled like supercut in her head, praying that someday if she would lose herself, she’d come back here right at this frozen memory and relive the wonderful indecisiveness of adolescence and the chance to say I don’t know without repercussions.

“Sakura to earth?” Naruto’s voice.

“Idiot. It’s earth to Sakura.” Sasuke’s voice.

She blinked fast, returning to the moment that wasn’t finished playing out yet. She quickly brushed her hands on her eyes as if something got into her eyes, hoping they don’t see the small droplets of tears that have formed. “Oh uh, I have a list of prospects, but I’m not quite sure what to take.” The form was still blank actually.

“That’s a usual problem of anyone who’s too good at everything,” Sasuke replied.

“Are you complimenting me?” I wish I was.

“Should I take it back?” He proceeded to gulp down the remnants of his glass.

The monitor suddenly turned off, indicating their time has run out. “Hey guys, for our last term, let’s make the most out of it, all right?” Naruto asked. “I’m so happy we became friends.”

“No hugging please,” Sasuke said, but it was too late. Naruto’s arms were too strong to pull away from so the two allowed him a few seconds of skinship.

Naruto’s words struck a chord in Sakura; it was a resolve she tried to form and disfigure for several months now. Before they could stand up to fix their things, Sakura blurted it out loud before her courage took the best of her.

“For our last term.” She flexed her fingers and curled them up against her palm, placing weight on her lap as she ground her fists onto it. “For our last term, I’m gonna confess to Kakashi.”

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 9

[alicemitch09writes]

last love

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

summary: Nothing was the same anymore, that much was clear. But it is really? Is it really too late for it all?

author’s notes: This is the final part to the first love trilogy. Please go read the first one, then its sequel - skinny love, before this, otherwise you’ll be confused.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

He wakes up with a start – sweating all over, heart pounding against his chest, sleep slowly washes over before realizing where he was and the humid heat that was summer gracing his room. He let out a relieved sigh, falling back into his sheets.

“Tetsuroo, wake up already!” came his mother’s voice, which resounded through the house.

The teen waited until his heart calmed to finally get out of bed, still drenched in sweat. A mirror stood across him, revealing his image – still the same gangly guy with serious bed hair, but his eyes still looked tired, even though his bags had lessened.

Grabbing a towel, he takes a quick shower.

He pretends to not have seen the look on his mother’s face when he wolfs on his breakfast, giving her a quick sloppy kiss on the cheek, before grabbing his bag and leaves.

His phone rings – a text message, he flips his phone and sees a text from his sister, quickly typing a reply before going to the music app. Plugging on his earphones, he begins to walk down a familiar path.

Leaning his head back, clear blue skies greet him. It was too much of a good day today.

Closing his eyes, he soaked up on the light, warming his face. When he opened them, the train station was in clear sight, his steps quickened.

Four stops and twelve blocks later, and he was walking down a place he’s grown familiar with the past few months. The grass was still greener, the flowers were much brighter, and the trees were tall as ever – maybe because it was summer. But the paint job was still terrible, even though they had maintenance work on them.

Upon entering the hospital, he nods at the nurses and staff – all of which, were used to his presence for the past months, adjusting the weight of his right arm, carrying his bag.

Kuroo Tetsturou fell into a routine – he woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, made small talk with his parents or sister, and went to the hospital. It’s been that way for months.

He stood in front of the door, about to knock when he heard her – a soft strumming and singing.

“I love this place, but it’s haunted without you…”

He felt the familiar skip of his heart at the sound of her voice. Carefully pushing it open, he finds (Name), playing her ukulele, pen, and notebook on her lap.

“My tired heart is beating so slow,” A thoughtful look crosses her face as she sings as if testing the lyrics. She quickly sketches down on her notebook – chords, and lyrics, falling into her element. Picking her ukulele, she strummed slowly, trying the new lyrics – “Our hearts sing less than we wanted, we wanted, our hearts sing ‘cause we do not know, we do not know” –  a small smile gracing her lips when they came out.

Without even knowing, his body moved on its own accord, stepping inside and towards her.

The song had a light melody to it, repetitive on the notes, yet strangely melancholic and full of longing. Yet somehow, unfinished. She stopped for a moment, stumped, before going over it again. Despite her minor slip up, she smiled through it and went over the song again – she was a perfectionist like that.

The sound of the door clicking broke the moment, (Name) looking up to find Kuroo standing in front of him, surprise written all over her face.

“H-Hey, (Name).” Kuroo says, lifting a hand in greeting.

She gives him a nod, awkwardly glances at him, then back to her notes.

“How’s your song going?”

She fiddles with the page, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s coming.”

“I see.” He nods, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “By the way, I got something for you.” Putting his bag on the foot of her bed, he unzips it and takes out a pink package. “Sis bought some stuff for you, says you’ll be needing it once you get into college.”

Slowly, a smile forms on her face as she reached for it, Kuroo careful as to not let their fingers touch. “That’s nice of her.”

Sitting himself on the couch, he looked at the clutter of papers on the table – university brochures. “Have you decided on where to go? Or are you still bent on getting to where uncle is teaching?” he asked teasingly, especially on the last question, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Her lip curled by a fraction, hugging her instrument close. “…well, it is my dream school and all.”

Kuroo nods at that. “Well, knowing you, you’ll make it – with or without the influence of your dad.” She smiled at that, playing with the ends of her short hair. His eyes followed her fingers tangle in those (hair color) locks, remembering how strange it was to see her usual locks chopped off, of combing them when she was still unconscious.

A tense silence fills in – both teens staring at anything but each other, unsure of what to say next.

“How about you?”

Kuroo made a questioning hum.

“Keiji told me you’re yet to enroll into college,” there was her ever-present concerned tone, (eye color) eyes soft, yet, basing on her tone, there was no mistaking how carefully she had asked.

Peering up to her through his fringe, Kuroo contemplated on his next words. “I haven’t decided on a course yet.” He lied, shrugging offhandedly. “No worries, though, I’ve been working part-time.” That was half a lie, he had just started working at a small grocery store. A small distraction outside the four corners of his own home and the hospital.

Her brows furrowed slightly with worry before it eased away when a knock came from the door. Her doctor – a small middle-aged man named Dr. Ishioka peeked in, beaming at the sight of her.

“Good morning, (Last name)-chan.” Noticing she was not alone, he gave Kuroo a short nod. “And to you, too, Kuroo-kun.”

Kuroo returned the gesture, having been a familiar face in the hospital for the past few months.

“How are we today?”

 “Good,” she smiled, still hugging her ukulele, forgetting her stationary in front of her. When her doctor noticed, he merely gave it a glance. Having finally noticed at what he was looking at, she started looking sheepish. “A-Ah, I was just writing my song!”

The doctor smiled kindly. “And how is it?”

“I-It’s coming,” she replied, using the same answer she gave Kuroo earlier. “I get stuck on words, and things are a little fuzzy to figure out.”

The man nods, hands buried deep in his pocket. “That’s good, getting some brainwork done. However, don’t stress yourself, okay? You’ve been asleep for six months, and it’ll still take some time for your body to get used to moving.”

“She won’t,” Kuroo says aloud, (Name) and Dr. Ishioka turns to him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

(Name) nods dutifully, finally putting down her instrument.

In his professional eyes, there clearly was an underlying tension between the two. Instead of pushing into it, he knew where his limits were.

“Well, that’s good to hear then. You’re in good hands, (Last name)-chan.”

The girl looks up to the doctor, who gives her a kind smile before leaving her a few instructions, which Kuroo was quick to take note of, before leaving.

Just as the door closed behind him, he heaved a sigh, wishing the best for the two.

“(Last name)-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!” a loud, jolly voice erupted in the room, making a dash for the girl. Barely a step in, Yaku kicked him in the back, grabbing the tall teen by the collar and pulling him back. “Geh- “

“Lev, control yourself! This is a hospital, not a playground! Geez, it’s like taking care of a giant baby.” Meeting her gaze, he lifted a hand. “Yo, (Last name), you look well.”

She laughed, eyes soft at the sight of the Nekoma team filling her room. Kenma, sitting beside her, had his eyes stuck to his console per usual.

“(Last name),” Noboyuki nods, holding out a fruit basket. “we brought you fruits.”

Her smile grew, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Kai!”

Kenma puts away his console and takes the fruit basket from the taller lad, putting it on a nearby table. He plucks an orange and disappears into the washroom, momentarily leaving (Name) with the Nekoma team.

“(Last Name)-san, your hair!” Inuoka pointed out. “It’s grown so much!”

She laughed at his comment, touching her hair consciously. “Yes, it has. My head feels lighter, actually.”

“Then, you’re keeping it short?”

She hums, tapping her finger to her chin in thought. “Who knows?”

“It looks good, actually,” Yaku commented. “Then again, it’s your hair, so it’s your choice.”

After the short pleasantries, the boys headed towards the couch and sat down, Fukunaga flipping through the channels. Kenma emerges from the washroom, sitting in his spot next to her.

“Ah, it’s your mom’s turn to watch you, right?” Noboyuki asked, sitting on the couch.

She hummed, nodding, Kenma placing the oranges on a table in front of her as he plumped and propped some pillows behind her, making sure that she was comfortable. When he was done, he sat down and began to unpeel his orange, (Name) mimicking him.

“Although" she broke into a sigh, breaking off pieces of the orange "I just wish I could get out of here, it’s so stuffy in here. Not to mention, it gets kind of scary at night.” She shuddered, blaming it on the time when the boys from Fukurodani visited and Bokuto, who had been channel surfing, stopped upon a horror film – particularly on a very scary scene. Lest to say, she didn’t sleep well that night and Bokuto was nearly banned from visiting her again.

“That’s understandable, hospitals tend to be scary,” Noboyuki says kindly.

“You can say that again!” roared Yamamoto.

“Yamamoto, shut up.” Yaku reprimands the loud-mouthed boy.

“Lev, how’s your read block training going?” as soon as the question was asked, the Russian tensed, beginning to sweat profusely.

“A-Ah, it’s going great!”

“He still sucks at it,” Kenma says, munching on a slice of orange with his eyes glued to his game console. “And no amount of practice seems to work, it’s like he’s meant for failure.”

“You can say that again,” says Yamamoto, arms folded against his chest. “he’s a hopeless cause.”

“H-Hey, I’ve been practicing!”

“Bless Nekomata-sensei for ever thinking you had a chance.”

“Yaku-san, not you, too!”

“Time to scoot, little newt!”

“Goddamn it, Fukunaga!”

(Name) couldn’t help but laugh, missing her rowdy boys.

A month of being holed in here was enough to drive anyone insane – everything was too gray, too cold and too dull. It meant so much to her whenever someone came to visit, bringing color to her room and warmth to her heart. Even as they all ganged up on Lev, she knew they really cared. And as far as Kenma’s told him – being vice-captain and all, Lev’s actually not bad. Though, he is quite clumsy with executing his offense and defense. She missed this, she really did.

But the thing was, it just wasn’t the same anymore.

It was hard to be around him anymore, that was a fact.

When she woke up, it looked like she had emerged from a different world. Kuroo quickly called the doctors, happy tears slipping down his face. Too happy to know that she finally woke up – after six months! – he almost forgot to ring her parents of her recovery.

A few hours later, when she slowly came to, he walked back in the room. Happy tears filled the room, the happy parents engulfing their finally awakened sleeping beauty.

But at the sight of him, she suddenly shook and cried – Kuroo quickly ran out of the room before anyone told him to, for her sake. All his worst fears came to life.

The doctors had assured him that it was just the effects of being unconscious for so long – it was difficult to adjust to her surroundings and the people she cared about. Her mind might still be subjected to her previous mindset, long before she went into a coma. So, when she woke up, there was a lot to take in for her. But with the help of doctors, her family, and friends, she was able to come through.

In a span of two weeks, (Name) was showing progress with her recovery. She was still subjected to strains when she overworked herself, especially when it came to brain exercise. But overall, she was doing well, her energy revitalized with the support of her family and friends. And ever since she woke up, there’s not a day when a friend – from Nekoma or Fukurodani – would drop by and visit.

In fact, the only time she ever seemed comfortable was when he wasn’t in the scene. She was much more comfortable with being in the presence of others than with his. And that hurt.

Things just weren’t the same anymore.

She knew that.

He knew that.

And it was all because of that one mistake of his. Just the thought of it made his gut churn, his hands balled into fists, his anger to rise, geared towards him.

There was no questioning of her newfound fear of him, after all, it was also his fault. Kuroo accepted his fate wholeheartedly, even though it killed him.

He could hear his thoughts twisting: of the reason that he stayed, was to ease himself of the guilt, to make him feel better about himself.

So, he came up with a decision, once she’s done with her rehab, when she finally gets discharged, he’ll leave her alone. As much as it pained him, he knew it was for the best.

After all, who was he in her life anymore?

“To light the night, to help us grow…” she mumbled, jolting down her notebook. “It is not said I always know…” Her nose scrunches, having hit a block. Frustrated, she throws her hand in the air, looking around her quiet room. Everything looked too dull, too gray. Instinctively, her hands reached to her right, where her ukulele usually lay, only to find it sitting on the chair across her – her father, had visited earlier and played her a song in an attempt to cheer her up.

(Name) sat up, turns to her side to lower the rail before sliding her feet off the bed. The cold tingle on her toes was a sensation she never knew she’d want to feel again, having been bedridden for months. Taking deep breaths, she lifted her feet off, remembering to bear the weight – feeling like a toddler walking for the first time.

Just as she reached her ukulele, a harsh voice called out. “Didn’t the doctor say you aren’t supposed to strain yourself?”

She looked up, meeting Kuroo’s furious gaze, seeing her out of bed.

Technically, according to the doctor, she could walk quite well now and advised her to do some exercise when she can. Kuroo couldn’t help but overreact.

“B-But…” without a word, he gently helped her back to her bed. She didn’t argue, her mission to grab her ukulele forgotten.

He sighed, pulling up a chair. “You do want to get out, right?” She nods, slowly, withdrawing her fingers away.

“D-Dr. Ishioka says I’m good to walk now.”

“Is that so?” she nods, like a petulant child. Kuroo sighs, eyes apologetic. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“It’s okay.” Relaxing, she offered him a gentle smile, which lasted for a minute before realizing the bags under his eyes, how bloodshot his eyes were. “You seem tired.”

“Hm,” he yawned, massaging his throbbing temples. “shitty customer, don’t worry about it.”

“You should sleep.” she offered.

“I’ll be fine,” he calls off, turning his back to look for something to do, anything to avoid her eyes.

“Kuroo Tetsuroo,” she called, using her tone – one he and Kenma were fairly familiar with, even the team. It pleased her to see him tense, slowly facing her. A triumphant smile was ready to break into her face, but concern about his welfare won over.

His shoulders slumped, surrendering. That made her smile, a tiny bit triumphant, before patting on her side. Instead, Kuroo resigned to sitting on a chair next to her bedside, leaning forward to rest his head on his folded arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want to lie down?” she offered, clearly displeased.

“I’m fine like this,” he tells her softly. I got used to it.

She looked like she wanted to argue but quickly closed her mouth shut. She moved closer so that he was laying on her lap. “Tetsuroo?”

“Hmm?”

“I-I wanna go to the gardens tomorrow, to stretch my legs.”

“All day?”

She nodded shyly, determined.

“Okay then, walking all day it is. By the way, how’s the song coming?”

Her shoulders fell, dejected. “It’s coming…I’m just stuck…”

Kuroo laughed, muffled by the sheets. And then he broke into a yawn, his head heavy, throbbing, eyelids drooping close but he fought to stay awake. Thin fingers soothingly ran through his hair, like they usually did, easing the tension from his head and replacing it with the sense of calmness.

“Hey, (Name)?” She leaned close, face illuminated by the moonlight. How he wanted to touch her face. “Sing me a song?

Smoothing her fingers through his hair, a soft smile crept its way to his lips, especially when she began to sing. His heart tugged, slowly beating faster – he always loved hearing her sing with or without an instrument. In one exhale, his subconscious slipping, the last thing he heard was her sweet voice and the beating of his heart.

“Hey, (Name).”

“Hm?”

“Why have you been avoiding Kuroo?”

She froze, slowly turning her head to blond-dyed teen beside her, hands folded against his chest and console free. He watched her from the corner of his eye, golden eyes inquisitive, waiting.

“Of course, you knew.” She smiled, leaning into his shoulder. “It’s not that I’m avoiding him…it’s just,” she lifted her hands, making gestures before letting them fall. “I-I don’t know how to talk to him...I’m not sure I want to. Just…being around him makes me feel like a black hole if that even makes sense.” The blank TV screen in front of her bed reflected the two, lying side by side on her bed, but she could also see the view outside her window – a dark blanket of night, the moon obscured by clouds.

“Hey, Kenma?” There was a question she was dying to ask, gnawing her the moment she woke up. She wasn’t even sure if she was ready for the answer, regardless of what it was. “My mind’s a bit fuzzy, and I was unconscious and all, but I do remember voices in the dark.” Swallowing thickly, she says. “A-And I swore I heard Tetsuroo.”

Kenma’s eyes noticeable widened, his shoulders heavy from bearing weights of two sides. In his head, he was debating whether he should tell her or not – he was obligated to, after all.

“Yeah, that was him.” He exhaled, recalling the past six months. “Kuroo didn’t leave your side since he found out you were admitted.”

She let out a weak gasp, the dam breaking. Alarmed, the blonde turned to his friend. “Why are you crying? Are you happy? Sad?”

“Both.” She sobbed, crying against his shoulder. But also, she felt incredibly guilty.

Kenma sighed, really, these two were a handful. When they talked, they both had to be careful of the other, as if they threaded on thin ice. He’s had enough of bearing their secrets, especially when it concerned the other – it made him the third wheel.

But as frustrating as they were, they were still his friends and he cared about them.

A few months into (Name) under coma, Kuroo Tetsuroo received word that he had been qualified for the colleges he applied for, one, in particular, was in the United Kingdom. Driven by guilt, he had to turn down their offers of scholarships for her, too broken to even take a step forward.

A day after she woke up, he called the admissions, asking if he was still qualified. To his luck, he still was.

Although the semester wouldn’t be until next month, Kuroo’s things were all packed. He didn’t bother saying a word to anyone, it was for the best.

It was a dick move, but then again, he was a dick.

This was the biggest leap of faith in his life, the opportunity of a lifetime, he had to take it. Yet, as much as his heart yearned for it, it felt like he was taking the easy way out.

He’ll miss Tokyo, his home, his family, his friends.

But what he’ll miss the most was her.

It’ll be alright, he thought to himself. After all, she’ll be off to college, her dream school, where she can start anew.

And as much as he hated the thought of it, he knew that she’ll meet someone else, someone who’ll treasure her in ways he failed to.

It felt surreal to be outside again, to have the sun and the wind kiss her skin. Hands instinctively flew to her hair as the wind picked up, remembering that it was still growing and it was cropped short.

What’s more surreal was the audition she got for her dream school, which was in a week’s time, having considered her situation. Nekoma was going to have a practice match soon with Karasuno, a mini-reunion was planned by the two schools. She was finally going to meet Kenma’s special someone he met at a Game Expo. It was almost too much for her heart to take.

But something was missing in all this fanfare – Kuroo.

For days, she hasn’t heard a word from him, hasn’t seen from him since. If she traced it back, it started just a day before she was released. She missed him. She really did. Her heart ached just to see a familiar hide of messy black hair, his gangly form, his easy smile.

And then she received a call from Bokuto, frantically telling her that Kuroo was at the hospital.

Apparently, he was out drinking with a few friends and suddenly got into a fight. Although he started it, he didn’t fight back, allowing the guy to beat him to a pulp. Had Bokuto not been there and Kuroo’d be critical.

Without a word, she ran out of her house, thoughts flying to Kuroo.

Upon arrival, her heart broke at the sight of him, hating that his arm was bandaged, the bruises and stitches on his face. She had the exact look of heartbreak when he saw her, all the guilt washed over her as she rushed to his side.

“What happened to you, Tetsurou?” he smelled of blood, dirt, sweat, and alcohol, but she didn’t care. “I know you’re one to pick fights, but I never thought you’d go this far.”

He turned away, avoiding her in eyes. That hurt. Kenma’s words surfaced, making her heart twinge.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked Bokuto angrily, completely ignoring her presence. She flinched at his tone, mind flashing to a certain memory.

“She was the best person to call,” Akaashi answered calmly, appearing next to the grey-haired teen. “Kuroo-san, go home. And more importantly, you and (Last name)-san need to talk.”

“Eh? But Akaashi, don’t you think Kuroo’s out of it?”

“I’m very much sober, thank you very much.” Kuroo threw a glare at the raven-haired setter, ignoring Bokuto’s concern, or (Name)’s.

After being given painkillers, Kuroo was good to go. And before anyone could stop him, he walked out of the hospital.

(Name) looked at the two teens worriedly before chasing after him, calling after his retreating form. But he didn’t look back, not even once. She didn’t stop chasing after him either.

Finally, he stopped by the riverside next to the bridge – the same one she found he and Kenma some years ago. Although puzzled, she followed him down the steps. Knowing that she was behind him, that she wouldn’t leave him alone, Kuroo sighed – ignoring the pain from his chest. He sat down, she took it as an invitation, sitting a step above him.

The silence between them was thick with a heavy weight of guilt wrought by the past few months, hearts burdened heavily. It was almost unbearable to even breathe, running away was the perfect option, yet the two stayed, another option weighing heavier.

They remain like that for at least an hour, the night growing older with every second. Two teenagers too afraid to tell the other what they wanted to say, fear holding them back.

Finally, for what seemed like forever, Kuroo exhaled through his nose, a heavy sigh. That was never a good sign. “I’m going to Cambridge.”

Her head whipped to him, he worried she’d get a whiplash. But she didn’t, her world just stopped. “W-What…?”

Sighing again, he pressed his forehead to his palms, unable to meet her eyes. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but this was for the best.

“The next semester won’t start until next month, but in a few days or weeks, I was called to take a test and offered a scholarship. So, I leave sometime this month.”

She could feel her heart twisting with every word he said, and she hated it – hated the way he talked to her, hated how he seemed to avoid her. Then again, she pretty much did the same thing when she woke up. She missed him, she really did.

Brought by the pent-up emotions she’s been feeling, she called out, in a shaky tone. “Hey, Tetsu, won’t you listen to my song?”

Song? He peeked up at her. So, she finally got to finish her song.

Swallowing hard, she reached for her ukulele – the sight of the band-aid sent a sharp pain in his heart, a painful reminder – fingers positioned over the strings, shaking just by a fraction. Before he could stop her, she glanced up at him and began singing.

  I love this place

But haunted without you

My tired heart is beating so slow

Our hearts sing less than we wanted

We wanted

Our hearts sing cause

We do not know

We do not know

 Her singing was as gentle as her music, enough to bring tears to his eyes.

He was reminded of the many times she’d sing to him, in times when he was at his lowest. To cheer him up, all it took was a few comforting words, a gentle smile, a warm hug, or her offering a song. It was cheesy, but he loved it, especially because when she sang to him, it would be only him and just him alone, making it very personal for him. He was selfish like that, especially with her.

  To light the night

To help us grow

To help us grow

It is not said I always know

 Of course, you don’t, he thought laughingly.

He could feel the longing in her voice, the loneliness – it made her seem like she was a princess locked up in a tower. Its lyrics tugged at him, knowing the feeling so well.

When their eyes met, he saw the young woman he fell in love with when they were 8, the young woman who held his heart now.

  You can catch me

Don't you run

Don't you run

If you live another day in this happy little house

The fire’s here to stay

 The emotion in her eyes made his throat dry, tugging his heart – did she just?

  To light the night

To help us grow

To help us grow

It is not said I always know

 His heart was hammering wildly against his chest, a rush of emotions burning inside, igniting his veins. The words were at the tip of his tongue, heart ready to burst out of his chest to tell her.

But not just yet, he didn’t want to jinx it, couldn’t bring himself to, he wanted to hear more.

  Please don't make a fuss

It won't go away

The wonder of it all the wonder that I made

I am here to stay

I am here to stay

Stay

  Overwhelmed by her emotions, by the pent-up emotions she’s withheld for so long, tears began streaming down her face uncontrollably. Alarmed, Kuroo quickly took her ukulele aside and enveloped her in his arms.

At his touch, everything she’s been holding in surfaced - missing him, loving him. “I’m sorry!” she cried, returning the hug, tightening her hold on him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“No, don’t say you’re sorry.” He pulls back to plant a kiss to her forehead, thumbs brushing her tears away. “Don’t you ever feel sorry, (Name).” He whispered against her skin.

Kenma’s neutral look of displeasure came to mind. He felt like an idiot. How could he be so stupid to have dismissed her feelings over his?

(Name) couldn't stop crying, her heart was so full of emotions that it seemed like it would burst anytime. She felt loved, so loved in Kuroo's arms - from the boy she's loved for so long. And somehow, his embrace made everything better, everything was forgiven, forgotten – yet, it made things worse at the same time.

“Tetsurou, please don’t go…” glossy (eye color) eyes begging, his heart aching. She couldn't take not having him by her side, couldn't take the thought of losing him. “Don’t go, please.” Gentle hands reached up to cup his face, tears continuing to stream down. “Stay, please.”

Oh, those (eye color) eyes, she had no idea of its effect on him.

“Stay?”

Placing his larger hands in hers, he leaned his forehead with hers, their noses bumping.

“Always.”

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 60 - Epilogue

Title: Irreverent Pt. 60 - Epilogue

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~2K

Status: Complete

A/N: That’s all folks. Chapters 59 and 60 coming out together today.

For J - For being the reason I finish this. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Aaron's been seated in his new office for the past hour, going over the new certification and training requirements for the BAU with Dave. Technically, it should've been Prentiss he was meeting with, but she'd happily passed along that piece of her new responsibilities, stating that the grouchy old men would do a much better job at it than she ever could.

From across the way, he can see through the glass walls into his old office which Prentiss now occupies. Both Garcia and JJ are sat across from her, no doubt convening there before they all fly out for your bachelorette party. It was a bit unbelievable to think he was only a week away from officially marrying you.

That is, if you survived this weekend, as you'd commented apprehensively earlier that morning. You've been terrified about what Emily had planned, especially given how his bachelor party had gone a few weeks prior. Dave had lured him away with the promise of good steaks and cigars, and then ambushed him with private dancers. He'd even gone out of his way to find one that held an uncanny resemblance to you. John had been sure to give that one a wide berth, making a beeline for the other corner of the room and staunchly avoiding any sort of eye contact with Aaron, much to his amusement. The night had culminated in a panicked text from Aaron to you, begging to be rescued. You'd arrived – his knight in shining armor – and taken him, a terrified Reid who'd been on the phone texting his girlfriend half the night, and a reluctant John who had finally relaxed enough to enjoy the company of the other dancer when you'd arrived and fixed him with an unamused regard that had the poor guy following the rest of you out with quick goodbyes to Dave and Morgan.

"You talk to Morgan recently?" Dave asks idly, sifting through the files in search of the old requirements documentation.

"Yes, he seems to be liking the transition to the academy," Aaron remarks, flipping through the file in front of him in search of the same. "We grabbed lunch last week when I did the Profiling and Prosecution seminar."

Dave smiles with a contemplative nod, and Aaron can only imagine what was going through his friend's head. Things were changing around them slowly – you'd left the team and had built your own, Prentiss was running the BAU, Morgan had retired to spend more time with his wife and soon to arrive son. Aaron himself had taken on the mantle of Section Chief, a role to which he was taking to far better than previously anticipated. Though, he supposed it helped that this time, he was only doing the Section Chief job and not also running the BAU.

It had been the right decision – for him, for you, for Jack. Both of you were home for dinner more nights than not. The three of you had settled into a routine that felt comfortable, and while he missed being directly in the field, he could see the change in him, his body. At his last doctor's visit, Dr. Robbins had commented that his stress levels appeared to be lowered and having a job that wasn't quite so hard on his body was a great help in that.

John was over every few weekends, very much a part of that routine you'd created, and the three of you had flown to New York a handful of times as well, taking Jack to a Yankees game (which he enjoyed thoroughly) and taking him on the subway (which he didn't care for). Dave had asked him half a dozen times, how he felt about John's presence in your lives. Aaron was incredibly alright with it – he hadn't been the only one who thought he'd lost you.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he was far more comfortable with John than he'd ever allowed himself to be around anyone that wasn't you or Haley. He's had time to think about it, about why that was the case. He figures it's because John is possibly the only other person in the world who understands the importance of you, the impact of you. For Aaron, in many ways, John also felt like an extension of you. The same biting humor, the forced humbleness – the way neither one of you could see anything wrong with spoiling Jack entirely.

Aaron could still easily recall the day he'd made an offhand remark about him not wanting Jack to grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth. John had grown quiet, eyes fixed towards where you were finishing making lunch. Jack was sat on the countertop, mixing together a bowl of cookie dough for you, to be baked for after lunch. Aaron had followed his gaze, his heart warming gently at the sight. It was so familiar, Jack always loved helping you in the kitchen. Aaron's mouth involuntarily turns into a smile as you laugh at something Jack had said, your head falling back easily, the musical notes of your laughter making the room feel brighter.

When John had turned back, he had a far away look in his eyes. "You're right," he'd said, clearing his throat, his voice a little heavier than before. "At the end of the day you want to be sure of only one thing – that he feels immensely loved. Because kids who aren't fed love by a silver spoon, they tend to lick it off of knives."

Aaron knew, without being told, that John was referring to Julian. He found himself incredibly grateful that his son got to be fed by you, wielding a platinum spoon. With John in your lives, that love in Jack's life only increased.

*------------*

You stood at the door of Aaron's office, having walked down from your own, on the way to Emily's so that you and the girls could fly off to a weekend of controlled (hopefully) fun. Who were you kidding? Emily Prentiss was in charge of your bachelorette party. You'd be lucky if you made it back in time to meet Aaron at the altar.

It takes a few seconds for them to notice your presence. A few seconds during which you get to admire the late afternoon sun hitting Aaron's frame just right, the golden hues turning his hair a lighter brown – it made him seem younger than his age, and the white flecks (which he blamed almost entirely on you and your disappearance) would suggest. The pronounced furrowed brow that seemed to be a permanent fixture for him while he was in the office, the warm eyes turned seriously down towards the papers in front of him, the pink lips that had spent a fair amount of time between your legs the night prior, causing you to shatter around him. That had resulted in John making a few crude remarks at breakfast that morning, which thankfully flew over Jack's head. Your son was far too excited to have an entire weekend with just his dad and favorite Uncle for a "Boys Only Weekend" to make up for you missing his soccer game on Saturday.

Aaron shifts, noticing your presence, head tilting up and eyes meeting your own. At the sight of you, they imbue warmth and familiarity, sparkling against the reflected sunlight. You're struck for a moment. Your husband-to-be was remarkably beautiful.

"Hey, how's it going?" You smile at both Aaron and Dave, entering quickly to meet Aaron on his side of the desk. Both of them turn to look at you.

"You still have no idea where Emily is taking you?" Rossi's face betrays his glee at your misfortune. He's been cross with you ever since you kidnapped Aaron from his own bachelor party. In your defense, the man had practically begged you to.

"No, she won't tell me." You sigh, your voice coming out almost in a whine.

Rossi's lip twitches, though he does a good enough job at not laughing outright.

You perched on the arm of Aaron's chair, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Harvey sent these over," you tell him, placing the envelope you had been carrying on his desk, your hand returning to play with the ring on your finger around as you were prone to do nowadays. "Would you please sign them and make sure they get to his office before Monday? He wants them finalized before the wedding."

Aaron nods, noting how your delicate fingers caress the stone of the ring that's sat on your hand and made him – quite literally – the luckiest man alive.

He's been expecting some paperwork coming his way in light of your upcoming ceremony. He'd lightly brought up the idea of a pre-nuptial agreement with you early on – for your sake – and had been laughed out of the room. You did however, feel it necessary to make him aware of exactly what assets he'd have access to, and thus your lawyer had been busy creating a summary for him to look over and acknowledge. Apparently, it had taken a full staff to do the entire work up, over the course of a month. If the thud the envelope had made when you'd set on his desk was any indication, he was in for a long night of reading.

"Alright, I should go." You heave off of his chair and the two of you look at each other and then Rossi, who takes a hint and looks away, leaving you to bend down and capture his lips against yours. You feel his arm winding around your waist and tightening into your side briefly, before you withdraw, your tongue peaking out to lick your lips. Aaron looks just barely flushed as Rossi turns back, his lips twitching in amusement as you fix yourself and take your leave.

*------------*

The door closes behind you, Aaron's eyes following your walk across the floor towards Emily's office.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dave asks, drawing his attention back to the envelope you'd dropped off for him. There's something oddly familiar about this – the two of them in his office, an envelope related to you dropped off at his desk. Though this time, under far less confusing and much happier conditions.

Aaron nods, doing his best to hide the smile threatening to break through at his friend's curiosity. Ever since New York, Dave had been very interested in learning exactly how much richer than him you were.

Reaching for the envelope, Aaron opens it up and withdraws the large stack of papers, and flips to the first page. Disclosure of Assets – the name of the document hardly did justice to the summary that followed. Properties across the U.S., Europe, South America, and the Caymans. A plethora of divided up Swiss bank accounts, each with a balance more staggering than the last. A stock portfolio rivaling Buffets. The number at the bottom of the page takes his breath away entirely.

Aaron turns once more to look towards his old office – he can see you gathered there with the rest of the girls, laughing about something. Given the piece of paper in his hand, he has to hand it to you in that moment. You lived far below your means. To think that someone your age had access to that kind of money – that kind of freedom – and still chose to do what you did. He didn't think there were many others who would.

Before Aaron can react, Dave has reached across the table and yanked the piece of paper right out of his hands.

The noise of complete shock that leaves his friend's body was not one that Aaron was likely to forget anytime soon. He watches as Dave reads the same summary he just had, his eyebrows moving further and further into his hairline as he goes down the page.

When he finally looks back at Aaron it's with a look that couldn't quite be described – surprise, awe, a hint of envy. Aaron can viscerally see the same thought he had moments ago regarding you and your work at the Bureau flit through Dave's head as he too turns to assess you across the floor.

Quietly, he hands the documents back to Aaron. Shifting in his chair, Dave clears his throat. "You do know that you're going to be picking up the tab every time now, right?"

Aaron chuckles, nodding. He'd assumed as much.

He turns back to you, only to catch you looking towards him as well through the glass walls. Your mouth turns up into a smile as your eyes meet his. Eyes like the sunrise colliding with his, causing his stomach to flip in that torturously delicious manner that only you seem to invoke. Eyes that meet his and stay. Eyes that have followed him, mirrored his, since the moment the two of you met. Eyes that betrayed you both when you looked at one another, the sheer intensity of the emotion behind them giving you away entirely. It didn't matter what distance, what time, what circumstance separated you from one another – somehow his eyes knew to always find their companion in yours.

Aaron might have fallen first, but he is forever grateful that you'd followed.

[x-reader-fanfics]

Heyyyy :) I saw your last post w dataxreader, and I was wondering if you’d do another? I LOVED it 😍 maybe one where reader and data aren’t in a relationship yet, but he gets super jealous when someone hits on reader, and then mutual feelings come to light? Eeeek thank you, and if u don’t wanna do this one right away I understand cause u just did one, but thank u anyway, and I love your writing ♥️

🖤 Malfunction 💛

Summary: When a new Ensign takes a romantic interest in you, a new light begins to shine on the seemingly simple relationship between you and your closest friend Data.

Requests are open!

~x~

Data had always preferred working with you.

You understood the nuances of his coding and his odd personality in ways no other officer ever had. Where most would have been confused and perhaps even discomforted by his unusual behavior, you had always found it fascinating, even going so far as telling him it was charming.

“I like hearing things from your perspective. You say such wonderful things, Data.” You had laughed, bumping his elbow with your own as you and him worked for hours side by side.

You were his partner, the completing half of his equation. No one else would get the question right. He needed you, and you needed him.

“Good morning, Data.” You smiled warmly, sliding into his side as you began your shifts together as you always had, greeting him the same way you always had before, kind and soft.

“Good morning, (F/N).” He welcomed you back, cordial and quiet.

Mornings were the moments you always shared together, the small smiles and quick touches which insinuated more but never dared to be recognized aloud.

“I barely slept last night.” You sighed deeply, gently resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut. You reminded him of the Renaissance angels he had often seen in ancient Earth paintings. He should do a painting of you.

“Perhaps a visit to Dr. Crusher would be beneficial.” Data commented idly, refusing to move even slightly, hoping it might persuade you to keep your head buried in the crook of his neck for even a millisecond longer.

Touching you was right. Being with you was right. It was unexplainable, but it was akin to answering a complicated question correctly, or finishing a long project. It was what he had been made to do.

“Hey beautiful.” An unknown voice interrupted Data’s rampant thoughts, causing his golden eyes to flicker toward this intruder into you and his peaceful morning.

“Oh. Hey, Brad.” You slightly sighed, bowing your head politely at him before returning to your work.

“A couple of friends and I are having a party tonight at Ten Forward. I’d love for you to be there.” He grinned, his smile all teeth and his eyes shimmering a bit too brightly.

“A party in Ten Forward. I had not heard of this before now.” Data easily inserted himself into the conversation, cocking his head as he stared questioningly at the Ensign.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Brad rubbed his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable around the android. “There’ll be girls there too. If you’re even into that sort of thing…”

Data missed your eyes shooting towards his, a hopeful but anxious look dancing across your face. You had wanted to admit your feelings to your friend for months now, but your anxieties about his own feelings had always held you back. How could he possibly be interested in other people in such a way? He didn’t even have emotions.

“Tell your friends I will be there.” He smiled, over-animatedly winking as he returned to his work, a small but proud smile on his face. He needed to watch over you and make sure this Brad didn’t try anything which might make you uncomfortable. You were his partner to care for, he nodded satisfactorily within his head, as if needing to justify his abnormal behavior to himself.

You could feel your heart shatter. Data wanted to go to Brad’s stupid party? To pick up girls? You were planning on simply turning the man down and having a quiet night in, but now that Data was going…

“Well you can count me in too.” You had to force yourself to smile, fighting the urge to gag at the way Brad licked his lips and winked at your response. He sauntered away like the cat who had caught the canary, your hands itching to strangle him as you twisted back to your work station, a cheesy smile still plastered to your face.

“Are you interested in Brad sexually?” Data asked with a pleasant smile.

Your mouth fell open, your breath flooding out of you as a wild blush stained your cheeks, hot and embarrassing. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t even breathe!

“W-Why’s any of that your business!” You half-shouted, darting away before he could pry any deeper.

You couldn’t handle it if Data found out you were in love with him.

Ah. Data mused, each and every one of his circuits freezing on one overly-simple thought. It would appear you loved him.

~x~

You hadn’t spoken to Data all day. You were too ashamed to even consider facing him. Running away in the middle of your shift because of your personal feelings was not something a professional Starfleet officer did.

“If I may be so bold,” A familiar voice began, soft and warm in its cantor, “You are positively ravishing this evening.”

Data stood before you, an out-of-character smirk striking daringly across his face as he took your hand in his, lightly grazing his lips against your knuckles.

“Data!” You gasped, barely able to keep yourself from becoming a melted mess.

“What are we doing talking over here when we could be dancing over there?” He smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you by the hand towards the dance floor, a grace to his every step.

“What happened to you Data?” You asked, practically breathless.

“I downloaded some new personalities appropriate for such an event.” He dipped you low, brushing his nose against yours as he started deeply into your eyes. “Are you enjoying me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh then, carefree and dripping with affection.

You loved this man.

“Yes, Data. I always enjoy you.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck right in the middle of the dance floor.

Data felt accomplished. Everything was as it should be. You were always meant to be with him, and no one else. It was just what made sense.

You were his closest friend.

“Data, there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you, but I’ve never really been able to.” You grasped his hand tighter in yours, unable to remove your eyes from the floor.

“What is it?” He asked, patient and quiet.

“Pardon to interrupt, but I couldn’t let you keep this beauty all to yourself for the whole night.” Brad smiled confidently, bending his face closer to yours as he attempted to slide between you and Data.

Data refused to budge, pulling you closer against his body. He barely stopped himself from shoving the Ensign across the room.

What was going through his systems? The more Brad talked to you the more Data wanted to never see his face again. The closer Brad got to you the closer Data needed to be to you instead, as if to reassure himself of something.

Any smiles you afforded Brad were meant to be his. He didn’t want you to look at anyone but him.

But such thoughts could only be defined as possessiveness. Something Data knew was inappropriate for friendships.

He released you, giving you one last glance before quickly leaving Ten Forward. He couldn’t bear to see his hands on you, to see the love which would pour out of your eyes for the handsome human, something Data could never compare to.

People did not fall in love with androids.

Even as his system screamed at him to correct things, to take you in his arms and kick Brad halfway back to Earth, he refused to listen. With some simple rewiring he could set his head back on straight.

You were his friend. Somewhere along the way his pathways must have set the wrong link down, convincing himself you might be something more.

His feelings for you were nothing more than a malfunction.

You watched as Data stormed away, confused and hurt by his behavior. One moment he looked ready to clock Brad and the next he was almost throwing you at him.

Did he think you wanted the slime bag?

“He’s never not said goodbye to me.” You muttered almost to yourself, staring after your best friend.

“Maybe he just forgot to.” Brad joked, grabbing you by the hips. “Let’s stop talking about that android and start talking about us.”

You scoffed at him, harshly shoving him away as you ran after Data. You were going to tell him no matter what it took, everyone else on this ship be damned.

You eventually found him in Keiko O’Brien’s garden, his face almost forlorn as he gently caressed an orchid in full bloom.

“Data?” You asked quietly, not wishing to startle him even though you knew that was impossible.

He turned his head to yours, almost in disbelief. “Where is Brad?”

“I don’t know, he’s nobody I’m concerned about.” You stated clearly, stepping towards him. He was so tall, the way he gazed down upon you with such genuine confusion causing you to smother a giggle.

“I do not understand, but it is not a topic I wish to hear more about.” He admitted, returning to his flower.

“And why is that?” You asked hopefully, bunching your dress between your fingers.

He glanced back at you, face blank as he simply contemplated himself, the color of your hair and the look on your face enough to push him over the edge.

“Because I am malfunctioning.” He said simply, stock still as he waited for your response.

You took his hand in your own, holding it as gently as a bird as you squeezed it to your chest. “What if I told you I was malfunctioning too?”

His brows furrowed across his face. “Then we must see Dr. Crusher at once!”

Your jaw dropped, disbelief to the point of amusement dancing across your face as you watched the worry on his face slowly seep into bewilderment.

“I’m not talking about my health, Data.” You laughed, sliding your fingers against his scalp as you pressed your body flush to his. “I’m telling you I’m in love with you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Before you could react he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing his lips against yours hard enough to bruise. He wanted you so badly in that moment he had forgotten to restrain himself, pressing against you fervently as he began to kiss the corner of your mouth, sucking and biting his way to your neck.

He couldn’t believe you would say such a thing to him, that you would allow him to do this. It was such a thrilling and new interaction he couldn’t get enough of it.

Without hesitation he pulled your flesh between his teeth, proudly marking you as his as he bruised your neck.

“Data…” You moaned, unable to do anything but limply hold onto him, knowing he would never let you fall.

“My (Y/N).” He whispered happily against your hickey, giving it a quick kiss, before standing back up properly, still refusing to release you from his hold.

Your whole body felt like jelly. Just from a few kisses Data had swooned you off your feet.

“You are so handsome.” You sighed, not knowing anything else to say but exactly what had been on your mind since you had first met the android.

“And you are so beautiful.” He murmured back gently, knowing he would spend the rest of his life saying those words.

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

this is me trying

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

word count: 3592

[a/n: I’m so sorry that it’s taken me so long to update this and my other story. i’ve been busy with school and work. thank you for your continued patience and support]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20 Year: Dec. 2014 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"How have you been James?”

Bucky looks out the window to his right. Hands grasped together in his lap as he sits on the dark green sofa across from the woman he's been seeing for the last 5 months.

He ponders the question, making sure to answer it honestly. He looks back at her giving her his full attention again.

"Good," he answers truthfully, a small smile planted on his face. Life has been good. School is going incredibly well. My job is going better than I could've imagined. Really learning a lot."

"How are things going with Natasha?" The older lady asks.

“Great. Really great," Bucky says with a slightly bigger smile.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," she smiles back, proud to the see progress James has made since his first visit moths ago.

After the blow up he and Steve had, Bucky fell into a depressive state. He refused to talk to anyone about what had happened. It wasn't until his younger sister Rebecca came to talk to him:

"I get you don't want to talk to any of us about what happened last week," she said as Bucky laid in bed looking out the window, his back facing her, "But you can't just stay in bed, hiding for the world. Starving yourself isn't going to solve anything.

"Sulking is only going to make you worse. It's not healthy, Buck. We're all worried. Ma is incredibly worried. She's barely been eating. I hear her wandering the house at all hours, because she can't sleep."

"You don't want to talk to us, fine. But you need to talk to someone. If not for yourself, but for Ma. Please," she begs, before leaving Bucky alone to ponder what she said.

He knew he wasn't coping the healthy way. He hadn't realized how much he was affecting his family by shutting down. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his mother. So he got himself up, took a shower, ate breakfast with his family. They were surprised to see him come down, but tried not to draw any extra attention to it. Rebecca gave him an understanding nod, which he reciprocated. After breakfast, he began his research. He decided to listen to Rebecca's advice and find someone to talk to someone to help him make sense of what is going on in his mind.

And that's how he ended up in Dr. Abraham's office.

"Have you contacted Steve yet?" She asks.

"No," he answered fiddling with his fingers, "I feel embarrassed about the way I reacted."

"That's normal, James," she assured him, "But in order to repair any damage that's been cost, you need to talk to Steve. To move forward. From what you've told me he's a very understanding person. I'm sure once you've apologized and explain to him the steps you've taken to help your mental health, I'm sure he'd be willing to accept you back into his life."

"I'm not so sure," he looked down at his hands.

"You won't know until you've tried. Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to do or what not to do. I'm just here to help you navigate your thoughts a little better. In a more healthy way. If you're really serious about living a more healthier mental life, I think you should talk to him. You don't want to really throw this lifelong friendship away, do you?"

"No, I don't," he shakes his head.

"Good. Remember to be honest," she tells him, "Vulnerability isn't a bad thing. Your feelings aren't a nuisance. it's how you handle them is what matters. I'm not saying you have to talk to him as soon as you walkout of here. I just want you to start making the notion of doing so. Our time is just about up, how about we do this. Some homework for the week.

"I want you to write a letter to Steve. Bring it in next week, you don't have to read it. But I would like to discuss it. What do you say?"

"Okay, I could do that," he agreed.

Christmas week

Steve and Elizabeth flew back home a few days before Christmas. They put their bags in the trunk of their rental car.

The car ride was silent for awhile, both tired after a long flight, now sitting in traffic on their way back to their parents' place. This would be their first time back to Brooklyn since the whole Bucky situation. The road trip back to California was fun, but there was a looming sadness over Steve. It's not like he regrets standing up to Bucky he doesn't. He just wishes thing would've played out differently. He really wished Bucky would've talked to him before he left back to California.

"How are you feeling about being back?" Elizabeth asks, while they sat in traffic.

"I don't know," Steve sighs, "Feels weird going back home and not talking to Bucky."

"Maybe you should try calling him. It's been a few months. I'm sure he'd be willing to hear you out," she said, rubbing his right arm.

"I don't want to push him," Steve said through gritted teeth, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

Bucky had been a touchy subject the last few months. During the first month Elizabeth would ask Steve if he'd heard from him, the answer always being no, followed by Steve shutting down. After that Elizabeth stopped asking, noticing how much it was affecting Steve, but the constant reminder of it wasn't helping. She knew that if Bucky ever did call, Steve would tell her. The only thing she could do was be patient and be there for Steve whenever he needed her.

The holidays kept everyone busy. On Christmas Eve. Steve spent it with Elizabeth's family at her grandma's house. Elizabeth found herself watching Steve play with her younger cousins, she couldn't help but giggle when they roped him into a tea party. She found herself imagining a future where Steve would do the same with their own children. She quickly shook the daydream away. Reprimanding herself a little for even thinking about kids at their young age.

On Christmas morning Elizabeth and Steve spent it with his parents. It was a nice peaceful day just lounging around in their pajamas. For dinner, Elizabeth's parents went over to have dinner at the Rogers' house. It was a nice little send off dinner for their parents who were leaving for Mexico to spend the New Years for a couples' getaway.

Elizabeth and Steve were heading to the Hamptons to spent NYE with Wanda, Thor, Loki, and Scott. They had planned to have a nice, peaceful trip.

While Steve and Elizabeth were at the Hamptons, Bucky and Natasha were spending their NYE at his family's beach cottage in Port Washington.

They were cuddled on the couch surrounded by take out containers, watching the New Years Eve special waiting for midnight to happen.

Bucky got up about 15 minutes to midnight to grab something from the kitchen. He walked back into the room with a new bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes.

"Got some champagne," he said holding it up for Natasha to see.

"Um," Natasha awkwardly shifted in her seat, "Actually about that."

Bucky looked at Nat confused, putting the bottle and flutes down on the coffee table before sitting back down next to her.

"What's wrong" he asked, grabbing the tv remote to mute the tv, and give Natasha his full undivided attention.

"So there's something I haven't told you," she says looking down at her fidgeting fingers.

"You're worrying me Nat," Bucky said, grabbing her hands to help ease her nerves

She looked up to meet his worry filled eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she announced.

Bucky eyes widen at her announcement, instantly dropping her hands. The look on her face showing she was telling the truth.

"How is that possible?" He asks in disbelief, "We've been so careful. We use double the protection. Condoms and you're on the pill."

"Actually about that," she nervously shifted under his intense gaze, "I haven't been on birth control in a little over two months."

"What?" Bucky yelled, quickly rising from his seat, "What do you mean you haven't been on birth control in a little over two months?"

"I got off of it," she shrugged trying to play it off, "It's my body and I can do what I want with it. And I just wanted to give my body a break, I've been on the pill since I was 15."

"I get it's your body, Natasha, I'm all for you doing whatever you want," he stresses, "but you should've told me. I'm your boyfriend, we have sex frequently. You should've at least had the respect of your sexual partner, letting him know that you were no longer on birth control. So in that case I could've been a tad more careful."

"We were using condoms," she half heartedly defended herself.

"They aren't 100% effective Natasha," he gripped his hair, in complete disbelief over this entire conversation, "You even know that. That also doesn't defend yourself for not telling me. You should've told me."

"I'm sorry. It's not like I was planning for this to happen," she yelled.

Bucky just stared at her like she just grew two heads. How is she not freaking out, he thought. They were clearly way too young for this. Which is why they took precautionary measures.

After a few moments of silence Natasha spoke up, "I'm keeping the baby."

Bucky didn't know what to say. He felt the room closing in on him. He started having a hard time catching his breath.

"James," Natasha quietly said, getting up to check on him. He raised his hand, silently telling her to stay where she's at.

He headed for the back door, the house felt too suffocating for him. He walked through the the small yard to the gate that led to the beach. Stumbling around.

To a stranger they would just think he's drunk. In reality he was just having a panic attack.

It was all too much. His mind was racing.

She's pregnant. With a baby. My baby. I'm going to have a kid. I'm going to be a dad. I'm not ready to be a dad. My dad was shit. God I can't be like my dad. I'm not ready for all of this.

He put his hands on his knees, hunched over trying to catch his breath. But he just couldn't. He did the only thing he could think of. He pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew would help.

Steve and Elizabeth were laughing with their friends, waiting for the countdown to begin. Steve felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He moved his shoulder off of the back of the couch, where Elizabeth was cuddled up against.

He pulled his phone out and his heart dropped at the name that appeared. He quickly got up and walked out of the living room and upstairs to the room where he was staying in for the week.

Wanda raised her eyebrow at Elizabeth, who just shrugged her shoulders, equally as confused.

"Bucky?" Steve answered the phone, closing the door behind him. He could hear Bucky hyperventilating on the other side.

"Steve," he tried to get out.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Steve asked, pressing the phone even closer to his ear the sound of everyone downstairs counting down to midnight.

"Steve, I-," Bucky was struggling to get out.

"Buck, please try to calm down," Steve stressed, "Inhale, hold it for a few seconds and then exhale. You need to calm down. I can't help you, if I can't understand you."

Bucky tried his best to calm himself down, with Steve talking him through it.

"Now, can you explain to me what's wrong?" Steve asked, hearing Bucky's breathing leveling out more.

"I-I'm not re-ready Steve," Bucky stutters, sniffling his nose.

"It's okay take your time, I'm here whenever you're ready."

"No, it's Natasha.”

"What's Natasha? Is she okay?" Steve questioned, getting more concerned.

"Yes, she's fi-ine," he stuttered again, trying to say the words.

"Where are you Buck?" Steve asked, looking around for his shoes and keys.

"I'm at the beach cottage."

"I'm in the Hamptons. Is there any way you can meet me back at my place?"

"Yeah, I think I can," Bucky said a bit more calmer now.

"Okay, I'll see you soon."

When midnight struck Elizabeth went upstairs to check on Steve, making sure everything was okay. She could hear him on the phone talking to Bucky, trying to calm him down. She waited outside of the door to give them some privacy.

Twenty minutes later Wanda went to go check on them, to find Elizabeth sitting on the floor.

"Is everything okay?" She whispered.

"I don't know," she answered, "I'm waiting for Steve. You can head back down, I'll be down shortly."

"Okay. We're here if you guys need anything," Wanda said before walking back down.

After another 25 minutes Elizabeth heard Steve hang up the phone. She softly knocked on the door, and let herself in. She walked in to see Steve frantically going around the room collecting his things.

"Steve is everything okay?"

"It's Buck. He called me while he was having a panic attack. Something about Natasha," he tells her.

"Is she okay?"

"I think so. I was able to calm him down. I need to get back home," he said putting his things in his suitcase.

"Okay. I completely understand. Do you want me to go with you for the drive?" She asked.

"I don't want you to have to cut your time here short," he says, feeling guilty for bringing this on her.

"Steve, something is clearly going on with Bucky. I want you to go to him, but maybe it's best if I drove. I haven't had a drink in hours, and you seem too frantic. Please let me help," she pleaded, placing her hand on his stopping him.

Steve looked up and noticed the worry on Elizabeth's face.

"Okay," he gave in, "We'll need to leave as soon as we can."

Elizabeth nodded, quickly grabbing her weekender bag and start shoving things in. If they forgot anything's he knew Wanda would bring it back.

They said their quick goodbyes and were on the road within 5 minutes, with Elizabeth behind the wheel and Steve fidgeting in the passenger seat.

Bucky took a few minutes to himself on the beach, trying to make sure his anxiety was at rest before he headed back inside. When he entered the house, Natasha shot up from her seat.

"Happy New Years," she awkwardly said, trying to cut the obvious tension.

"Umm," Bucky scratched his head looking everywhere but at Natasha, "We need to leave."

"What?"

"I mean, you can stay if you want and I'll pick you up tomorrow," he rephrased, "But I can't stay here. I need to go. Steve is meeting me at his house."

"Steve?" She was taken back by that mention, not expecting to hear Bucky say his name. He hasn't mentioned Steve in months.

"Yeah, I called him," Bucky says rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well that's good right?"

"Yeah, listen. I really need to go, so are you going to stay or come with me?"

"To see Steve?"

"No. I would drop you off at your place," he tells her, "I'm seeing Steve alone."

"Will she be there?"

Natasha didn't really know exactly why Steve and Bucky weren't talking, at first. Then she heard that Steve and Elizabeth were dating, and it all made sense. The only person that could tear Bucky and Steve apart. She never told Bucky that she knew. Figured it wasn't worth the fight. Especially not now when she was carrying his child.

To an outsider it might seem like she got pregnant on purpose, but that wasn't the case. She knew they were too young for this, at least that's what she thought when she first found out about the pregnancy a week ago. But now that she's sat with it she's taking it as a sign that this is meant to happen. She's just really hoping that Bucky would see it, if not now but eventually.

"Listen, Natasha, I don't have time for this," he looks her in the eyes, "Are you coming or not?"

"I'll get my bag," she remarked with a snark tone, walking passed him to their shared room.

A couple of hours later Bucky was pulling up in front of the Rogers' house. 2:15 am read the clock in his car. He looked to his right, out the passenger side window to see a dark figure sat on the front steps of the house.

Bucky took one last breath before exiting the vehicle.

As soon as he opened the front gate Steve stood up from where he was sat on the stairs.

Once Bucky approached him both young men threw their arms around each other. Gripping each other tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. They stayed like that for awhile. Relishing in the comfort of being back in each other's arms. Their silent fight no longer important. All they knew in that moment was everything was going to be okay, because no matter what they'll always have each other.

Steve walked into his parents' living room holding two mugs of coffee. As he rounded the couch, he handed one to Bucky.

"Sorry, if I ruined any of your plans," Bucky apologized, "Tell Elizabeth I'm sorry for taking you away."

'Buck, don't worry about it," Steve waved him off, "She completely understands. And truth be told, I wasn't necessarily feeling in the New Year's mood."

"Yeah," Bucky sighs.

"Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?" Bucky nods his head, placing the coffee mug on the coffee table in front of him. He shifted his body to the left to face Steve.

"She's pregnant," he announces.

"What?" Steve asked, not expecting that to be the reason, he quickly placed his mug next to Bucky's.

"Yeah, my reaction exactly," Bucky said.

"What? How?"

"Apparently Natasha hasn't been on the pill in a couple of months," Bucky explains, "And even though we always used condoms, they aren't exactly 100% effective."

"Did you know she wasn't on the pill?"

"Nope," Bucky tells him, "If I knew I wouldn't been a bit more cautious."

"So she told you she was pregnant?" Steve said getting back to it.

"Yeah. She was so nonchalant about it. Like it was no big deal," Bucky stressed,

"How is she just so calm. We're not prepared for this. I'm not ready for this Steve. I can't be a dad. I don't even know how to be a decent human being."

"That's not true Buck," Steve disagreed.

"Come on Steve, we haven't talked in months, and we both know it's not because you didn't try," Bucky says, "I was so caught up in my own jealousy. And selfishness, that I never even considered your feelings or Elizabeth's. And I don't think I can ever make it up to you for treating you like you're nothing to me."

"You were hurt," Steve tried to excuse.

"Doesn't excuse the way I behaved," Bucky says, "I know that now."

"I've been seeing a therapist," Bucky informs him, "I never realized how much my mental health was taking a toll on those around me. So after our fight, I found someone to talk to. To work through the shit that's going on in my mind."

"How's that been going?" Steve asked.

"Good," Bucky gives a half smile, "Really good. She's good. I've realized a lot about myself that I didn't know. Working through all the issues I've had with my father leaving."

"That's good Buck. I'm proud of you, truly," Steve beamed, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

"I really am sorry for the way I behaved," Bucky repeated again.

"Buck, you really don't have to apologize again," Steve told him.

"I need to Steve," he said, "I can't believe I acted that way. I should've been happy for you and Elizabeth. I'm glad you two have each other. Seriously. I couldn't imagine her with anyone better, same goes for you. I won't cause any more issues for you two. It's not worth not having you in my life. You're my brother Steve, and I don't want to miss anything."

"Thanks, Buck. It really means a lot to me to hear that," Steve smiles, "Because I don't want to miss anything in your life also."

"Yeah, especially now," he says, the reality of why they're there dawning back.

"How are you feeling now about the baby?"

"I don't know, man," Bucky shakes his head, "I'm afraid I'm going to screw this up, like everything else."

"But now you're working on that," Steve reminds him, "And you're not going to be doing this alone. You have people who are always going to be there. I may be in California now, but I'm just a phone call away. You're not alone. But you do have to try Buck. That's all that you can ever do. Try your best, no one's asking you to be perfect, but as long as you're trying your best, that's what's important."

Age: 21 Year: 2015

The sounds of a baby crying woke Bucky up from his sleep in the early depths of the morning. He quietly and quickly got out of bed, making his way to the small New York kitchen to make a bottle.

He walked into the small nursery where the two-month-old baby wailed from hunger.

"It's okay," Bucky shushed gently, picking up the small baby, "Daddy's here."

He adjusted the small baby in his arms before placing the bottle in the baby's mouth.

"There you go," he encouraged the small one, as soon as he heard the sounds of the baby drinking.

Bucky sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, opposite of the crib. He just stared as the newborn drank their bottle, while simultaneously falling asleep. Even though he was completely exhausted, he had never felt more happier. More at peace with where his life was at.

As long as he kept trying his best, he knows he can do this for the rest of his life.

[strandedcrow]

thoughts on the glass animals album dreamland? (info dump welcome)

YES hi hello thank you

I talked like,, a lot so I’m sparing y'all with a cut

The album itself is just so well organized and executed it’s insane. The entire album just captures the feeling of taking a nostalgic trip through your own life and the way that it ends up forgotten in a way, sickly sweet and vague, subdued, and so easy to get completely lost in. And part of what makes it so well done is the pure authenticity it’s completely drenched in. The album itself didn’t exist until quarantine hit, they had been taking a break after a band member was injured and had to recover, and that isolation had that same impact on them as it did on most of us, and the result was this extremely genuine album embodying nostalgia itself.

As a band they’ve always done such an incredible job of maintaining a theme throughout their album that is consistent without becoming repetitive. The song Dreamland does such a perfect job of pulling you into the album, easing you into a subdued album, fuzzy around the edges but clear once you can hone in on the details, on what’s being said, perfectly reflective of the theme it’s introducing you to. While it’s doing that it’s also providing a smooth shift from the last song on the album before it, HTBAHB. Agnes leaves that album off on such an extremely a somber, desperate, and lost note, which Dreamland picks up, just as lost in itself, taking off so beautifully from Agnes’ “You’re gone but you’re on my mind, I’m lost but I don’t know why,” and getting into the why. But it does so by warning you first, “You see in kodachrome, you see in pink and gold.” This album is distorted, it’s not right, the colors are wrong and everything is sweeter than it should be. At the same time, it sets up for the songs to follow, like “That worst thing you said” for It’s All So Incredibly Loud and “You were ten years old, holding hands in the classroom, he had a gun on the first day of high school” for Space Ghost Coast to Coast.It’s those vague, unconnected memories that you haven't quite grasped onto yet in full, but you know you’re going to get lost in them once you do. You’re stepping back from the overload of information and action today to visit who you used to be and what made you who you are now.

Right after it, Tangerine does something that Life Itself did for HTBAHB, it smoothened the general sound’s transition between albums. Just as Life Itself, with its beat similar to the album before its own could have fit into ZABA with no issue, Tangerine could have been on HTBAHB without disrupting the album. The “retro” vibe, the themes revolving around both the nostalgia of Dreamland and those of past relationships deteriorating because of missed opportunities and growing apart fits so well into both albums, it’s such a great transition from the past album to the current. The “I’m begging, hands knees please, tangerine” is also a common expression used (often as a double entendre) by them, again like in Life Itself, with its chorus being “Come back down to my knees, gotta get back, gotta get free, come back down to my knees, lean back now, lean back and breathe,” which just sets up for a really smooth callback to previous songs and album. Something else that Tangerine establishes is something that’s been a running theme with Glass Animals since ZABA: fruit. There is a lot of fruit here. It used to be a running joke that Glass Animals wasn’t actually a band, but a cryptic pineapple worshipping cult (no amount of music made will fool me, this is definitely a pineapple cult). This album uses fruit to remind you of the sugary sweetness of nostalgia, but there’s more history and, well, fan specific nostalgia that goes with that metaphor, too.

Hot Sugar is similar to a later song, Waterfalls Coming Out Your mouth, in that it’s about someone who is so cool that they aren’t actually cool. The person isn’t genuine, the idea of them isn’t actually them, but this was someone that you still want to be anyways, because who wouldn’t want to be that cool? The song doesn’t have much deeper meaning underlying it compared to some other’s because that depth doesn’t exist here, with this person. You know they’re “faking it,” but it doesn’t really matter beyond deciding if you actually like them or if you just want to be them, and the answer is the latter. This song is also similar to another, later song, Tokyo Drifting, introducing the listener to this person that he wants to be like, referencing “Hot rubber on the tar,” and setting the stage for the later song to tell you more about what he wanted to be like. Also, once again, through a mention of watermelon, fruit continues to be a recurring theme in the earlier tracks on this album, when the trip through nostalgic memories is still more sweet than bitter.

Right after we get introduced to this idea of who he wanted to be, we move onto what became of someone he knew closely, shared a lot with, and very suddenly lost touch with through Space Ghost Coast to Coast. The music itself is reminiscent of the music he listened to at the time. This song, being a telling of something that actually happened, is so authentic and raw in how it ends up, all still told through the layer of confusion, hurt, and again, that sweetness of nostalgia, with “You look bizarre in the apricot” establishing a deceptively sweet but confused tone over something heavy through yet another fruit metaphor. This song also manages to hit on other songs from the album when he tries to delve into why his friend did what he did, “Were you bored of gender norms,” matching with Dreamland’s “Go ask your questions like “What makes a man?”,” “… of being alone,” matching Heat Waves’ “I don’t wanna be alone, you know it hurts me too,” and “… no mama home, a bad divorce” matching pretty much the entirety of Domestic Bliss. Like Hot Sugar, this song sets up for Tokyo Drifting, with his idea of who he wants to be but isn’t, with “Remember when you stole mom’s old Geo Metro, you wore her old bathrobe, too small to see the road.” There’s also more blatant references being made to both past shooters (Black cap back with a trench coat, ay) and the arguments afterwards of what motivated them (Playing too much of that GTA, playing too much of that Dr. Dre). While he still wants to understand his old friend, and what happened for him to change so abruptly and dangerously, he does not want anything to do with him anymore. It’s a song about a loss of innocence and the understanding that sometimes you just won’t understand why someone does something. It’s just a complete banger in general.

Which then takes us to Tokyo Drifting, which absolutely slaps. The song itself revolves around what he wanted to be like, singing from a new persona rather than his own (Cane Suga from HTBAHB was done through the same persona). It breaks the pattern of referencing to fruit, instead focusing on drugs and alcohol, dropping the sickly sweet lens of nostalgia for something more fitting of the song’s specific theme. Don’t worry, though, dragonfruit was used extremely heavily in this songs promotion as a single, so the fruit is still there, just not directly, and that lack of directly referring to a fruit in the song itself fits with the way that the song breaks from nostalgia of things that have happened and people he knew into something that was never real. There is no rose colored glasses needed for something that never even happened. I don’t have much else to say on it, it just goes hard, this was my most listened to song two years in a row lmao.

Melon and the Coconut is just sheer Glass Animals. It’s weird, it’s fun, and it sounds great. It cleanly splits the album in half, splitting the POV’s straight down the middle while making a reference to its own position in the album, “Sometimes B-sides are the best songs.” Needless to say, there are some super subtle references to fruit in Melon and the Coconut, the song about two fruit.

Then, the second half of the album kicks off with Your Love (Deja Vu), a song extremely similar in theme to previous songs about missed timing, like ZABA’s Pools and HTBAHB’s Pork Soda. Instead of fruit, “juice” is mentioned in this song. It takes the turn from thinking about people you were friends with, what you wanted to be like, to people that you were with, and things that just didn’t work out.

And then there’s Waterfalls Coming Out Your Mouth. It’s such a clean parallel to looking back on things with nostalgia and seeing them through the fake sweetness that time brings, with this song being about the rose colored glasses that were present in the moment, the time when you start getting to know someone but you aren’t actually getting to know them, you’re getting to know this other, more impressive version of them instead, and they get the exact same experience of you on their own end. He’s letting this other person have their own version of him while he has his own version of them in his head, and he knows their version of him is wrong, so he also knows whatever he thinks of them is going to be wrong, too. He knows them, but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s realizing here, that this person, like the Hot Sugar person, is too cool, and they aren’t real, it’s all just talk, and it’s all fake like the “chemical warfare, red lips and television eyewear, raspberry soda hair, in the pool with a blow up gummy bear.” It’s sweet, sure, but it’s also fake. “Chat shit but where’s the real you? Never seen The Price Is Right, I’m a liar been on that shit since ’99. You make me look like a clown, clap clap, you’re a clever clever cookie now” has no right go that hard, and yet it Does.

Then, abruptly, we get to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. The song itself is subdued, it’s that point in your trip through your own memories where you remember why things went wrong. You get shaken from your train of thought and lose your place in it, because you aren’t there anymore, you’re here and you can���t go back, you can’t fix anything, all that’s left for you to do now is mourn the wrongs and accept them, even though its painful. This is remembering what Dreamland meant by “That worst thing you said,” the realization that you have to break someone else’s heart, and how much that hurts.

((home movie: rockets)) is the longest home movie audio in the album, and creates a smooth transition back into childhood, journeying back through a sound similar to that of their first album, ZABA, on the way there for the album to transition into Domestic Bliss. This time, with someone else entirely’s perspective falling back onto knees, but this time under an entirely different tone, “Fight for me. We can leave I’m begging, please, on my on my knees.” These two songs back to back continue the downward spiral that too much nostalgia can leave you falling into, the wrongs, the regrets, this trip down memory lane has lasted too long, now.

Which drops us off at Heat Waves, which returns back to his own perspective after Domestic Bliss focused on a friend of his. It fits the bittersweet feeling in nostalgia, the understanding and acceptance that you can’t go back, you just have to keep going forward and separate instead for everyone’s sake, a followup less to the tangent in thought that is Domestic Bliss, and more to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. It also wraps up those previous album’s songs, Pools and Pork Soda in a way, bringing a sense of closure to the nostalgic feelings, as well as to the entire album.

And finally Helium, the bookend opposite to Dreamland. This song flawlessly embodies that feeling of when you realize you’ve just been sitting and staring at a photo album for an hour now, and you finally take a look around you, feeling the air conditioning on your skin, hearing the sounds of the world around you, snapping back out of your train of thought and into real life again. Things didn’t work the way that you used to think they would, but that’s a good thing. It is such a perfect ending to the nostalgic journey that is this entire album. Fading back into the melody that started this journey of sickly sweet memories of people you looked up to, when you learned for the first time that people can change and you might not ever understand why, ideas of who you once wanted to be, finding something light that you can laugh about, realizing how similar so many things in your life have been to each other, the realization that the people you used to look up to might not have actually been that impressive the whole time, your regrets, times you wish you could have done more, and the understanding that sometimes you shouldn’t have done so much.

I love this album so much man

[mando-lore]

The Terror of London: the story of Spring-Heeled Jack

Certainly Strange: A Podcast About The Unexplainable, episode 6

Listen on: YouTube  Spotify  Castbox

The Victorian era was a time of shadows and superstitions. In every corner of London’s dark streets lived a mystery or a monster. One of the most popular and certainly strange urban legends of this time is the story of the leaping devil, Spring-Heeled Jack.

In October, 1837, a young servant girl named Mary Stevens, is walking through Clapham Common to the house that she works at. Suddenly, a figure jumps from one of the shadows, gripping her tightly. The figure starts to kiss her face and tries to rip off her clothes. Mary cries out in alarm, and the figure vanishes. Of course, this just seems like a case where a man tried to molest the young woman. And it could have been exactly that, had the strange figure not ripped at Mary’s clothes with claws instead of hands. Claws, she said, that were “cold and clammy as those of a corpse.”

Mary Stevens was not the first one to see this strange clawed creature jump from the shadows. In September 1837, one month before the attack on Mary Stevens, a man saw a man with horns and red glowing eyes leap over the cemetery fence.

This strange devil-like man did not wait much longer to strike again after attacking Mary Stevens. The very next day, it was reported that a strange figure had jumped out in front of a traveling coach, causing the coachman to lose control and crash. Witnesses reported that the figure escaped by jumping over wall that was nearly 9 feet tall, whilst laughing uncontrollably.

This was also the very first time the police got involved. At the scene of the crime they found a pair of very deep tracks in the mud that could only have been made by jumping from a great height. The tracks also showed that there was some gadgetry on the shoes, and speculated that it might be “some sort of compressed springs”.

And this is how the strange devil-like figure got the name of Spring Heeled Jack.

It was January, 1838. Polly Adams, who worked as a barmaid, was walking across Blackheath in south London when she was suddenly attacked. She was discovered half-naked lying in the gutter. When she came to, she is reported saying that she had been attacked by a man who had ripped open her blouse and had grabbed her breasts with claws that were sharp and cold as a corpse, eventually cutting open her belly.

On January 9th, the Lord Mayor of London, Sir John Cowan, received an anonymous complaint of another servant girl who was attacked by Spring Heeled Jack. Because of this incident, several other people came forward about similar incidents in the Kensington and Hammersmith area, all involving servant girls.

This was the perfect story for the press, and Spring Heeled Jack began to get a lot of publicity. With the increase of publicity, there was also an increase of reports from people who had seen or were attacked by the now famous ‘terror of London’. The police took these reports very seriously, and even the Duke of Wellington, the one who had defeated Napoleon, went out armed on horseback to hunt for the monster that haunted London.

This did not stop Spring Heeled Jack, however, from striking again.

There came a knocking on her door. The police, he claimed. He had found spring heeled jack in an alley outside her home. Jane Alsop opened the door. When she accompanied the policeman to the alleyway, she noticed that he was not wearing a police uniform, but instead a long black cape. She got suspicious, but it was already to late. The cloaked man attacked her, trying to undress her whilst, according to her, spitting blue flames out of his mouth.

Jane Alsop described her attacker later to London magistrates: ”He was wearing a kind of helmet and a tight fitting white costume like an oilskin and he vomited blue and white flames!”

Nine days later, the same fate befell Lucy Scales. Walking home from having visited her brother, she was attacked by a man in the same outfit as Alsop had described. And again, he spitted blue flames out of his mouth, blinding her and even causing a seizure.

Then, after terrorizing London for many months, Spring Heeled Jack disappeared.

There were no more reports of people being attacked by Spring Heeled Jack. In 1855 he was seen in Old Hill, far from London, leaping from the roof of an inn to another roof across the street. Somewhere in the 1880’s, a man and a young girl reported that they had seen Jack with glowing eyes, who had bid them a good evening.

Spring Heeled Jack was also seen in 1872, when he landed amidst a group of soldiers. One of the soldiers claimed to have shot at him, but the bullet reflected off of him with a hollow, metallic sound.

Spring-Heeled Jack was last spotted in 1904, 67 years after he had first appeared out of the shadows, jumping over a building in William Henry Street in Liverpool. And, seemingly, disappearing into the shadows once again.

Although frightening and violent, Spring Heeled Jack never mortally wounded any of the women he attacked. This did not stop locals from suspecting him of murder. In 1845, a 13-year old prostitute called Maria Davis was pushed off a bridge into an open sewer, where she drowned. Although the coroner recorded Maria’s death as ‘Death by Misadventure’, and though an eyewitness had seen that it had not been Jack who pushed her but instead one of her clients, locals still claimed that Spring Heeled Jack was the true murderer of this child.

Many attacks on women were blamed on Spring Heeled Jack. When there came a report that a woman had been murdered in Whitechapel in 1888, with her clothes ripped off her, people automatically assumed it had been good old Spring Heeled Jack, especially since the culprit had seemingly disappeared into the night without being spotted by police.

Spring Heeled Jack immediately became suspect number one in the other murders that followed. So much so, that the killer himself wrote a letter t the Metropolitan police signed Spring Heel Jack: The Whitechapel Murderer. Later, the killer shortened it simply to Jack. Perhaps better known as the real terror of London. Jack the Ripper.

The real Spring Heeled Jack, if he ever existed, was never caught. There was only ever one suspect. Henry Beresford, the eccentric young third Marquis of Waterford, who was known for his misogynist behaviour towards women and for having a bad, often alcohol-fuelled temper.

The Lord Mayor of London also had a theory that Spring Heeled Jack was simply created by a group of elite gentlemen who dressed up and terrorized women as part of a bet.

There is another, somewhat strange theory of how Spring Heeled Jack is actually an alien from a planet with high gravity. This would, according to them, explain his extraordinary jumping abilities. Our thin atmosphere could have made him giddy, which would explain his laughter. He would be a nocturnal alien, with reflective eyes like that of a cat. That would explain his glowing red gaze.

But, before considering the theories about aliens, it is important to understand the historical context in which Spring Heeled Jack was born. Because, how can a creature such as Spring Heeled Jack be born in the minds of people?

The 1830s in England were turbulent times, full of tension and anxiety. It was a time filled with social, economic, political, and cultural changes. King William IV died in 1837, and people were uncertain about the capabilities of the young queen Victoria, since she was only 18 and a woman. In this time period, society became more regulated and disciplined, which characterised the Victorian era.

In a period of increasing and intensified control, the monstrous Spring Heeled Jack represented the appealingly uncontrolled. Like the wicked Mr Hyde compared to the composed Dr Jekyll. That is why he is constantly shifting in eyewitness reports. One time Spring Heeled Jack is a beast, the next time he is a ghost, and yet another time he is a devil.

This tense and potentially volatile context became the perfect ground to build a legend that is build on mass panic and sensationalism from the press.

During the Victorian era, printing technology improved. This gave more people access to education and books, causing illiteracy rates to drop. The increased demand of books combined with the high rates of crime created the perfect environment for people to profit off of sensationalized stories about monsters and criminals, such as Spring Heeled Jack.

So whether Spring Heeled Jack was a man, a monster, a ghost, a devil, an alien, or simply a result of a restrained society looking for sensation, his legacy is very much real. Spring Heeled Jack remains a popular penny dreadful figure from the Victorian era, featuring in games such as Assassins Creed Syndicate or the series Jekyll and Hyde. And whatever Spring Heeled Jack was or is, he is Certainly Strange.

SOURCES

Bell, K. (2012). The legend of spring-heeled Jack: Victorian urban folklore and popular cultures. Boydell Press.

Bellows, J. (2006). Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from: https://www.damninteresting.com/spring-heeled-jack/

Castelow, E. (n.d.). Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from: https://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/Spring-Heeled-Jack/

Dunning, B. (2007). The Attack of Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from: https://skeptoid.com/episodes/4064

Grundhauser, E. (2016). Meet Spring-Heeled Jack, the Leaping Devil That Terrorized Victorian England. Retrieved from: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/meet-springheeled-jack-the-leaping-devil-that-terrorized-victorian-england

Ogden, P. (2020). Spring heeled Jack: The Leaping Devil Who Spread Hysteria in Victorian Britain. Retrieved from: https://oddfeed.net/spring-heeled-jack-the-leaping-devil-who-spread-hysteria-in-victorian-britain/

Origjanska, M. (2017). Spring-Heeled Jack: The Leaping Boogeyman who terrorized Victorian England. Retrieved from: https://www.thevintagenews.com/2017/11/26/spring-heeled-jack/

Perry, L. (n.d.). Spring Heeled Jack, Fiction Based On Fact. Retrieved from https://casebook.org/dissertations/ripperoo-spring.html

Sheldon, N. (October 29, 2018). 16 Frightening Details in the Story of Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from https://historycollection.com/16-frightening-details-in-the-story-of-spring-heeled-jack/16/

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 20

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: 🙃 Hi. I hope everyone’s had a nice weekend. Here’s more of your favorite medium, but first, look at this gif.

Warnings: angst and mention of dead animals

The rest of your time at Billie’s had been more enjoyable than you could have hoped for. The two of you spent a lot of time together, with Milo too of course, and you even risked going out again. Luckily you had been able to enjoy your time together without incident and you were reluctant to go home the next morning. You would have loved to stay with Billie for longer, but it was time to go back to work.

You and Milo had finally returned home on Sunday, and you’d immediately realized how much you had to do before work on Monday. You’d gone shopping, did laundry, cleaned a lot of your apartment before collapsing at 10. You wake up Monday morning torn between excitement and dread about going back to work. You are excited to be busy again, and to see all of your patients, but you aren’t excited about potentially facing the media and tiring yourself out.

You didn’t bother texting anyone to see if the reporters are there because you doubted anyone would be at work yet. You lock your door behind you before leading Milo down the hallway. You stifle a yawn before leaning against the wall while you wait for the elevator to reach your floor. You consider texting Billie but it was really early, so you decide to at least wait until you got to work.

You are leaving a little early because you want to have time to catch up on what you missed, so you and Milo arrive a whole hour before opening. Most of the assistants aren’t even here yet, but you hadn’t run into any reporters so you’re happy. Since you are here so early, you take Milo upstairs with you and after putting his bed back under your desk you both settle in.

When lunch time rolls around, you are grateful of the fact that Dr. Stewart put breaks into your schedule this week. You’re feeling okay, but your headache is starting to come back. You’re stressing about how much you have to catch up on when your phone goes off. You sigh before realizing that it’s Billie, and you smile widely as you read her message.

You know she has a busy week, but that doesn’t start until tomorrow, so you are going to take advantage of any free time Billie has. It doesn’t even seem odd to be so excited to talk to the blonde again. It’s barely been 24 hours since you’ve seen her, but you’re quickly responding to her message. You’re not really free, but you figure a few minutes on the phone won’t hurt.

You glance to the schedule before you skip ahead a week to double check the time that you had scheduled all seven of the cats to come in. Before leaving Billie’s yesterday, Bit had escaped outside and neither you nor Billie had been in the mood to run after her. Milo had of course, but luckily he had already been attached to his leash so he didn’t get far. You had joked that whenever she came back, Billie would have to bring her in to get spayed. She could get into a lot of trouble relatively quickly.

You had been kidding of course, but then you’d actually talked about it for a while before Billie decided that she wanted it done ASAP. So now you had Bit’s surgery in the morning, and Billie’s appointment with the other cats late enough in the afternoon that she could just take them all home at once.

Guess who made it home?

Billie had attached a picture of Bit sitting in the living room grooming herself and you laugh. You ask Billie if she wants to keep her appointment before turning your attention to lunch. You leave your office and walk down the hall to the kitchen so you can grab your lunch. You’re glad that you went shopping yesterday because you really don’t want to chance an encounter with reporters this week. You sneak a peek at the boarding cats before heading back to your office with a sigh. You sit back down before turning your attention to your computer when it chimes at you. You answer some emails before you finally get to you lunch, and at that point you remember to check your phone.

Yes, please.

You smile before asking how her day has gone so far before returning to work. You’re typing up a medical record while eating your sandwich when your phone lights up again. You’d turned off the sound because it had been aggravating your headache. That said, you don’t realize that you have a new message until you have two and you curse under your breath as you grab your phone.

How has your day been, sweetheart?

You’re on lunch now right?

You respond by telling Billie how your day has been and that you honestly are ready to go home. You talk for a while before you have to get back to work, but you ask Billie when she’ll be free. You are already dreading the idea of having to go back to your apartment alone tonight, but you suppose that’s what you get for spending so much time at Billie’s.

Billie spent most of the morning figuring out her week. She talked to Michelle for a while about the many things she had planned and how she was going to be kept busy up until her show aired. Billie was conflicted because she was glad to work, but she was also exhausted. She wanted a break, and she certainly didn’t want to deal with more assholes like she had on Friday. She and Michelle had talked about this a lot and the solution you’d both come up with was deceptively simple.

Just stick to the same story every time, and don’t crack under pressure. Billie still hadn’t told you about what Dave had asked, and she wasn’t sure if you’d bothered to look it up. This meant that she hadn’t been able to ask you about what she could say on TV. You had agreed to her telling the basics about you, your job, recent move, and all of that, but nothing about your personal life.

You certainly hadn’t mentioned your dad which is why Billie was trying not to either. That said, it was only working so well when people zeroed in on that one article or anything else they could use to bring him up. She knew you hadn’t gotten over his death yet, for several reasons, but she didn’t want to be the one to bring it up again. Billie knew that you had to come to terms with it on your own time, but it just made things difficult for her. Well, she was the one making things difficult for herself by refusing to talk to you about it. She didn’t want to risk you asking about the interview, so Billie was sticking to her ‘nothing more than the basics’ for now and hoping that it didn’t backfire again.

After Bit had returned from her sudden, albeit brief escape, Billie had tried to look her over. She wanted to make sure she hadn’t gotten hurt or too dirty while out there, but she’d had limited success. She only got as far as scratching her head and reaching for her stomach before Bit hissed and fled upstairs. Billie didn’t bother trying to stop her, she seemed fine enough, and Billie spent the rest of the morning alone.

It was odd having the house so empty. After you and Milo had stayed for a nearly a week, it was difficult to get used to the silence. Neither of you had made much noise honestly, but even just the sound of you shifting on the couch, or Milo’s collar clinking made Billie smile. She’d grown to like having the two of you here, but still she’d let you leave.

It was too early in your relationship to think about that, so Billie just pushes the thought to the back of her mind. Maybe in a few months you two can talk about the idea of moving in together.

You and Billie text for a little while longer before you have to go back to work. You’re glad that your afternoon is full of wellness visits, and as you get ready for your first appointment, you wonder if that was intentional. You don’t think about it long before you are meeting your assistant for the afternoon to get a history for the next patient.

You’re seeing an older dog, Rudy, who is relatively new to your practice. He’s a very sweet dog, but his owners are a little odd. Maybe you’re just too introverted for them, but you think that even an extrovert would find their questions a little invasive.

Luckily, it’s a quick visit and they don’t even mention your relationship which is a relief. The focus is on Rudy, as it should be, and you are grateful that no one seems to really care about you today. In between appointments you’re drinking water and working on medical records. You occasionally check your phone to see if Billie’s texted, but you have no new messages. You frown slightly before forcing yourself to get back to work.

The end of the day sneaks up on you, and you have maybe half a dozen records to finish when Dr. Hahn tells you she’s leaving. You curse under your breath after she leaves as you look at the clock. You need to feed Milo, but you still have maybe an hour of work to do. You sigh before jumping up and taking the stairs two at a time. You smile at Mina before running into the kennel to  get your dog.

“Hi Milo. Do you want dinner?”

Milo of course just barks and spins around until you let him out. You smile before scratching his head and waving him along. You feed him before letting him out in the yard for a while. You didn’t give him as much time outside today as you usually would and you feel a little bad about it. For this reason, you end up sitting with him for nearly 15 minutes before you remember you have work to do still.

You lead Milo back inside and up the stairs to your office. You don’t like leaving him in the kennel after hours, and since he’s good and just sits at your feet you let him stay with you. You’re yawning by the time you’ve finished the first couple of records, and you are tempted to leave when your phone goes off. You sigh and force yourself to finish the section you’re typing up before looking to see what Billie says.

No one else has texted you today, so you assume it’s her.

You’re right and you smile when you realize that Billie is checking in on you. It’s almost 8 and you groan when you realize how late you’ll be here tonight.

Are you still at work?

You respond saying that you are and will be for a little while before putting your phone back down. You glance down at Milo, confirming that he’s asleep and snoring before you start typing again. Billie is in the middle of trying to wrangle the kittens when your reply comes in. Since you and Milo left, she realized that it was safe for the kittens to roam around supervised. She was downstairs with all of them now, and definitely regretting her decision to do this.

As Billie holds Mickey in her sweatshirt pocket, he was almost getting too big for it, she hurries to pick up two other kittens that were at her feet. She was attempting to get them all back to the laundry room after being out for a while, and it was proving more difficult than she imagined. She sighs in defeat as she watches the other three attempt to jump on the furniture, or bother Bit. She was going to need a drink after this.

She had underestimated how tiring it would be to spend time with them like this. One hour had quickly turned into two. It was adorable watching them all wobble around, and clumsily chase clumps of Milo’s hair that they found on the ground. They were all getting so big that Billie wasn’t sure how she’d manage to get all of them to the vet next week.

Her main concern right now though was getting them all back into their room. She knew she had to spend more time letting them out like this, but she was going to be busy for the next few days. She had a couple of meetings with her producers and Michelle in addition to another couple of interviews. Billie opens the laundry room and sets the three kittens on the ground before going back to get the remaining three.

She tries to chase one down, and he or she, she’s not sure, runs into the kitchen and Billie sighs in defeat. She follows the little one to the back door and watches as she jumps up and puts her paws on the glass.

“Come on little one.”

Billie reaches down and grabs the kitten, smiling slightly as it purrs so loudly that Billie feels the vibrations. She turns to go track down the other two when her phone goes off again. She smiles until she realizes that it isn’t you, and she leaves it be for now before going off in search of the last two stragglers.

You finally finish working around 9, and you’re exhausted by the time you finish locking up. You take Milo’s leash in one hand and grab your things with the other before heading to the parking lot. You don’t even spare the rest of the lot a glance, not caring if they’re there before you throw your things in your car. You get Milo situated in the back and pretty soon you’re on your way home.

You stifle a yawn as you turn onto the road with an exhausted sigh. You’re not looking forward to going home despite feeling like you’re going to fall asleep the second your head hits your pillow. You get home in record time too since there isn’t much traffic and you sigh as you pull into the closest parking spot you can find. You sit in the car with the engine off just staring off into space before you’re interrupted.

“Shit, Milo stop.”

You push Milo away as he sits up and licks your face to get your attention. He just whines when you tell him to sit, and you only get another few seconds reprieve before he’s pawing at you. You groan in defeat before getting unbuckled and opening your door. Milo isn’t going to let you delay this any longer, so you don’t bother even trying. You get him hooked up to his leash before grabbing your things and leading him inside. You make it to your apartment quickly and you close the door behind you before watching Milo run to the couch. You look around with a frown before heading toward the kitchen. You drop your things before opening the fridge for a drink. It’s late and you should just go to sleep, but you don’t want to.

Instead, you sit next to Milo on the couch with your phone and a glass of wine. You sigh as you look to your phone with a yawn. It’s late, but you are sure that Billie is still up. You want to at least say goodnight, or let her know that you’re home. She had asked you to check in after all.

You didn’t expect her to pick up on the second ring.

“Hi, Y/N. Are you finally home?”

You smile before nodding to yourself with an exhausted sigh. You tell Billie how you just got back and that you are tired enough to crash. You hear her laugh at this and you can’t help but wonder what she’s doing right now. You turn to Milo before patting your lap, and you smile as he hurries to lie down on you.

“What are you up to, Billie?”

Billie smiles as she turns to Mickey who is bouncing around on the floor at the end of the bed. She’s watching him from where she’s leaning against the headboard with a glass of wine in one hand. She mentions what she’s been up to for the past 15 minutes and you laugh when she mentions her kitten adventures from earlier today.

“Really? All 6 of them? How did that go?”

You laugh as Billie groans under her breath. She was glad that she’d been able to give the kittens some much needed play time, but she was exhausted. She was close to crashing despite not having worked much today, but she’d wanted to wait at least until she heard from you.

“It was hectic for sure, but they were so cute. I wish you could have seen them.”

Both of you smile at the thought before you’re nodding in agreement. You scratch Milo behind his ears, your smile widening at how cute he looks as he just stares at you.

“Me too.”

The two of you sit in silence for a little while just lost in thought before Billie finally speaks up. You’re looking at your empty glass on the table in front of you while Billie’s picking up Mickey to take him back to his siblings and Bit.

“I miss having you here, sweetheart.”

You smile at Billie’s words blushing slightly as you lean against the couch with a sigh. “You do?”

Billie just nods before she returns to bed and sits down with a frown. She looks to the empty side for a moment and wonders how a few nights of sleeping in the same bed with you did this to her.

“I do. I wish you were here with me.”

You picture Billie lying in bed as she says this, and you can’t help but want to be there with her. You just know that when you go up to bed you will miss being near Billie. You’ll miss her presence, her warmth, and you will especially miss the feeling you get when she holds you close. You don’t realize that you haven’t responded until Milo snaps you out of your reverie with a loud yawn.

You smile and Billie chuckles before you manage to find your voice again. You try not to sound too much like you’re pouting when you speak up.

“Me too. We need to have another sleepover, Billie Dean.”

Billie laughs before agreeing with a wide smile. The two of you talk for almost an hour before you aren’t able to stop yawning. You don’t want to, but you end up hanging up and heading to bed. You tell yourself that you can wait until Friday rolls around to see Billie again, but you’re not entirely sure. It’s going to be a rough week not only because you’re easing back into things, but because of your impending birthday. It will definitely be on your mind, and not in a good way.

You try not to worry about that now as you get ready for bed. You go through your normal routine and half an hour later you crawl into bed. You watch as Milo does the same at the other side of the room, and you just sigh before turning off the light. You close your eyes and groan in defeat as you roll over and hide your face in your pillow. You turn again until you’re staring at the ceiling, and your mind begins to wander to a certain medium.

You close your eyes again and the first thing that comes to mind is Billie Dean’s charming smile. You imagine her smiling at you, and you can practically smell her perfume as you picture being pulled in for a hug. You smile at the thought of her laughing at one of your dumb jokes, and you are eventually able to fall asleep at the memory of Billie lying beside you.

Billie on the other hand was not asleep yet. She was tired enough for sure, but she couldn’t relax enough to lie down. She was on her second cigarette when she decides to look at her phone for a while. Mindlessly scrolling sometimes helped her sleep, but tonight it was stressing her out. It just made her think about everything that she had to do tomorrow, so she put it down quickly before heading downstairs.

She gets another stronger drink before heading back upstairs. She doesn’t make it back to her room because Bit is yowling and needs to be let out before she wakes the neighborhood. Billie sighs watching as Bit runs down the hall and down to the first floor before she sticks her head in the laundry room. Most of the kittens are sleeping, but of course there was one straggler.

“Mickey.”

The kitten turns, either at his name or Billie’s voice, and hurries over to her. She smiles as he comes to a clumsy stop at her feet and she laughs before picking him up. She holds him close and lets him play with her hair, but when he reaches out for her drink, she shakes her head.

“Not for you, little one. It’s time for bed.”

After she gets Mickey settled, Billie heads back to bed. She’s already finished her drink watching Mickey, so she leaves the empty glass on her bedside table before heading to the bathroom. She needs to get to sleep soon. She’s already going to have one hell of a week. The last thing she needs is to be sleep-deprived.

Billie isn’t convinced that this won’t be the case whether she sleeps or not. Last night she’d had difficulty sleeping, and she doesn’t want to think about why. Instead, Billie sits in bed and finishes off her cigarette, dragging it out for nearly a half hour before she falls into a fitful sleep.

You’re so deep in sleep that you don’t hear the series of knocks at your door the next morning. It’s almost half an hour before you alarm is supposed to go off, and you do not want to get up yet. Milo; however, hears them and he sits up before looking at your door. He starts growling as the knocks continue before he stands up and heads out of your room and downstairs.

He yawns on his way to investigate when the knocking stops. There is nothing out of the ordinary, and Milo hurries to the front door to sniff around. He smells something on the other side of the door and he starts pawing at it insistently. He whines as he tries to stick his face under the door, but not even his nose will fit. He lies down on his side and sees that there is something in front of the door. He tries to reach under the door but his paw is too big and he just whines again before scratching at the bottom of the door for a minute.

Eventually he gives up and just stares at it from the floor. About twenty minutes later he hears something shift from behind the door and he sits up suddenly. His ears twitch and he starts to sniff again before he hears the sound again.

He barks a couple of times before he runs back upstairs to your room. He barks again, startling you from your sleep, before jumping on you with a series of loud whines. You groan in annoyance as you roll over and try to push him off of you.

“Milo go away! It’s only 6!”

You honestly consider giving Milo to the next person you see when he pulls the covers off your bed and leaves you cold and very much awake.

“Milo!”

You sit up and glare at your dog who just drops and steps on all of your sheets before coming back to jump on you again. He whines as he tries to grab onto you, but you’re not really wearing many clothes, so he gets skin and you curse under your breath. Clearly he wants your attention.

“Alright, Milo. Stop! What is it? What do you want?”

Milo jumps off the bed and runs to the door before looking back at you. He barks and you groan loudly before following him down the hallway.

This better be good.

You follow Milo downstairs to the front door thinking that he just wants a walk. He jumps up on the door and claws at it and you quickly push him down with a scowl.

“Milo, no! Go get your leash.”

You are surprised when he doesn’t listen and instead just whines and tries to open the door again. You sigh before moving him out of the way before you unlock the door. You are about to step out into the hallway and see what has him so riled up, but you don’t make it that far. You nearly run into a box that was placed right in front of your door. You frown as you look down at the sketchy cardboard box in front of you.

You’re reluctant to open it, but Milo doesn’t give you much of a choice as he comes up behind you and practically shoves his face into it. You move him away before you peek in and you nearly curse as you realize what is in it.

“What the…?”

Billie Dean is already at the studio getting ready for her next interview when her phone rings. She had only gotten 5 hours of sleep, and she’d had to ask Michelle about a half dozen times who she was being interviewed by. Billie was on her third cup of coffee and she nearly spills it on herself when she jumps in surprise as her phone vibrates.

She curses under her breath as coffee spills on the floor, and she’s more than a little annoyed when she grabs her phone. When she sees it’s you; however, her frown turns to a smile and she answers quickly despite the fact she doesn’t have but maybe a minute to talk.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

You don’t respond immediately because you’re too busy staring at the box you’d managed to put on your counter. You didn’t really want it there, but Milo kept trying to get to one of the kittens inside.

Yes. Someone had left kittens at your doorstep. The first and hopefully the last time someone did something so cliché and quite frankly cruel to you. There had been five kittens in the box but only two were alive by the time you got to them. You had checked three times before separating them from their live siblings and hurrying to get dressed for work. You couldn’t help them much here, but from what you could tell they were in decent condition.

You’d wrapped them up in towels and piled them back in the box before realizing that there was a note at the bottom of it. You held it in your hands, and were still staring at it when Billie picked up. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words.

“Y/N?”

You had almost forgotten that Billie was supposed to be at an interview now, or soon, you weren’t really sure what time it was. This had thrown you off so much you honestly didn’t know if you’d walked Milo yet. Luckily he was just sitting by patiently, watching you and sniffing for the kittens that were almost as young as Billie’s had been when she’d first brought them in.

“Hi Billie. Uh-.”

You trail off as you try to figure out how to explain this. You read the note one last time before throwing it on the counter with a sigh.

“Something’s happened.”

Billie is still a little distracted when the interview starts. She had only been able to talk to you for a few minutes before she had to leave. You had told her as much as you could before apologizing for interrupting her morning. You had to get to work anyway, but you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on. Rather, who the hell had left you a box of kittens and a creepy ass note?

You make it to work on time, somehow, and despite your hectic morning you smile at the first person you see as you enter the building. Erin. You had already put Milo in his kennel after giving him a little extra breakfast for making him wait much longer than usual, so you are only holding the kittens when you greet Erin.

“Good morning, Erin.”

Erin smiles as she sticks her phone and keys in her pocket before doing a double take. She wasn’t sure what you were holding, but as she gets a little closer, she sees that the box is not a box of donuts like she’d originally thought. You notice her looking and you’re quick to explain the odd arrangement in your hands.

“Morning Dr. Y/L/N. What do you have there?”

You sigh as you put the box down on the treatment table. You really had wanted to get a different one because this one was falling apart, but you’d already been running late and you really didn’t have a suitable alternative, so here you were. You watch as Erin peeks into the box before repeating what you’d told Billie. Minus the cursing of course.

“Five kittens were left in this box in front of my door this morning. Only two were alive, and they seem pretty weak.”

Erin frowns as you say this, and she reaches into the box to pet the smaller kitten that is still wrapped in a hand towel. You don’t mention the creepy note. You’d only told Billie because you were a little freaked out. However, she’s managed to calm you down and say that it was probably some random creep from your building, not Doug.

You push these thoughts to the back of your mind before you nod at what Erin says next. You were only half listening but you hope that you assume correctly.

“That’s so sad and messed up. Who do you think left them?”

You sigh in defeat as you take the three dead kittens out of the box and set them on the table. You want to make sure that they’re taken care of before your first appointment.

“It really is. I’m not sure who left them. I honestly don’t know many of my neighbors.”

With Erin’s help, the two of you take care of all five kittens and figure out what you’re going to do with them before your first appointment. You know that they need to be taken care of and checked on frequently. You can’t ask any of the technicians to do that because they already have their hands full with surgeries this morning. So you spend all of your free time in between appointments taking care of them when you can and feeding them formula.

Your boss isn’t in today, but almost everyone knows about the kittens’ presence before lunch time. You know it is a lot of responsibility, taking care of practically newborn kittens, so you aren’t surprised when no one jumps at the chance to take them in. You are already thinking of places to call when your phone starts to vibrate from your pocket.

You put the kitten in your hands, you’ve named them already despite your better judgement, back in the bed you’ve made before you reach for your phone. You see it’s Billie and sigh before looking at the time. You are done with appointments for the morning, all you really need to do is walk Milo.

“Hi Billie.”

You answer the phone as you walk to the kennels to grab Milo. You can’t really hear what Billie says immediately because it’s a lot louder than you thought it would be. You grab Milo quickly before retreating to the yard where the labs are already playing. You smile at some of the assistants sitting on the benches before heading out further into the yard.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Billie had returned home a little while ago, and she had decided to check in on you since you should be on lunch. You had told her about the kittens and the note, but she’d literally been on her way to the interview so you hadn’t been able to really discuss it. She realizes that you are outside with Milo because she hears barking and traffic, but she doesn’t get to ask before you’re speaking again.

“Shit, I forgot. How was your interview this morning?”

You’re wandering around the yard, making sure not to step in any mud puddles or anything other than grass. You glance over to your dog who is running back and forth between dogs trying to steal a tennis ball, before you focus back on Billie’s voice when she speaks up.

“It was fine, Y/N. Not nearly as exciting as your morning though.”

You smile at this before you shake your head in disagreement. You weren’t sure why Billie never seemed to want to talk about her interviews. You always assumed that they were more fun than she made them seem, but you knew now wasn’t the time to talk about this.

“So you talked about your show?”

Billie sighs more to herself than at you as she takes another drag of her cigarette. She was exhausted already, and it was barely noon. She had a lot more to do today, but she definitely wasn’t in the mood. She would much rather help you take care of these new kittens.

“We did. Only a couple of weeks before it airs.”

You smile at this before nodding to yourself. You pet Milo as he comes to say hi to you, and you take the ball that he offers you with a smile. You look at it for a moment before you realize how covered in mud and saliva it is. You groan under your breath and chuck it across the yard before responding to Billie.

“That’s so exciting Billie. I can’t wait to watch it!”

You mean this and you smile wider when Billie laughs in return. You two talk a bit about how you are going to watch it together as soon as it airs. You throw around ideas and you’re already looking forward to a night of cuddling on the couch with Billie.

Eventually you change the subject to the kittens that you need to check on again. The smaller one that you’ve dubbed Charlie wasn’t doing so well. He, or she, you honestly couldn’t tell, wasn’t eating as much and barely moved. The other kitten, Bo, was bigger, more active, and would definitely be trouble. You could already tell from how much he moved around and refused to listen to you. Not that you really thought either of them understood much at their age.

Billie laughs at the news of the new kitten’s names. She wasn’t sure why she thought you wouldn’t have names for them yet. You had only told her about half a dozen times how you made sure every single animal you met had a name.

“You said Bo was the troublemaker?”

Billie’s putting out her cigarette as she watches the clock on the oven. She only has a few minutes before she needs to be on a conference call. You laugh before telling Billie a little more about the kittens. You are already head over heels for them, but you really can’t keep them. You sigh as you say this to Billie before throwing the ball for Milo one last time.

“They’re adorable, but they’re a lot of work as you know. I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

You have a full-time job that you may not be working full time at right now, but you will be once you recover. Milo is honestly the only pet you can have right now, but you can’t just dump the kittens on someone else. You just have to see what you can figure out. Make a few calls and hopefully find these two adorable gray kittens a good home.

It’s only 6 hours later that you are on your way home with Milo and two kittens. You aren’t surprised that you ended up in this situation. Despite all the effort you put into finding a shelter, foster family, literally anyone else to take these kittens, you had come up with nothing. Well, that wasn’t true. You came up with a possible lead that someone needed to check on, but that would take at least a couple of days. You weren’t sure that it wouldn’t fall through and you were already preparing yourself to take care of these kittens until they were, well as old as Billie’s cats were now.

You sigh as you open the door to your apartment carefully. You watch as Milo walks in first. You honestly hadn’t bothered putting his leash on because you had your hands full, but he was good and stuck by your side. This was mostly because he wanted to play with the kittens, but you would take what you could get at the moment because it seemed like you were getting very little.

You shut the door behind you with a sigh before locking it and heading to the kitchen. You’d gotten rid of the dirty old box from this morning and now had a small litterbox that was going to house the kittens until you bought a more suitable alternative. You look under the blanket that you had laid on top of the kittens and you smile as you watch them squirm. They are just waking up and you set the blanket back on them briefly before you put your bags down.

You brought home a lot of things for them and you were just now realizing how much as you set it all down in front of you. There was formula, more blankets since you didn’t have a bed for them, and an assortment of bowls. You cursed your inability to make decisions before you got to work making the kittens’ next meal.

Milo just watches as you run around the kitchen and feed the small mewling furballs. He tries to jump up and get a better look once you put them down, but he stops short as you grab the box they’re in and head to the living room. You sigh as you look around and try to figure out what to do next. How the hell are you going to make this work?

Billie is finally done working for the day. She is just about to check on the kittens for the last time when you call her. She’d asked Michelle to buy a pen that she could keep downstairs so they could spend more time outside of the laundry room. They were really starting to spend more time awake and it was entertaining to watch them sometimes. Billie returned to the kitchen for her phone before she headed toward the kittens. She saw it was you and smiled before answering.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

You smile despite how tired you are before collapsing on the couch with the kittens in your lap. Well, the box is in your lap and you just stare down at them as you sigh in exhaustion.

“Hi, Billie. How was the rest of your day?”

As Billie tells you about her busy day, you just watch the kittens squirm around. They aren’t very active, which isn’t surprising, but you still feel the need to watch them closely and make sure they don’t get into trouble. You don’t realize that Billie has stopped speaking until she calls your name twice. You cringe at the fact that you spaced out and missed who knows how much before you sigh again.

“Sorry Billie. I just got distracted by the kittens.”

Billie frowns slightly at this and she glances to her own kittens who are bouncing around excitedly. Mickey is tackling one of his siblings, and Billie swears her heart melts at the sight.

“You weren’t able to find anyone to take them off your hands?”

You shake your head before thinking back to what Mina had said. You relay this to Billie before you have to stifle a yawn. You don’t do a very good job though because Billie clearly hears it.

“Not yet. Mina might know someone, but she’s got to get in touch with them first. For now, they’re with me.”

Billie’s frown deeps as she thinks of all the reasons why she doesn’t like this. You’re still supposed to be taking it easy, and she knows firsthand how time-consuming taking care of kittens is. You sound exhausted and Billie is already thinking of different ways to help you out.

“I hope she finds someone for you soon, Y/N. You already sound exhausted.”

You know that Billie is only concerned about you, but you frown in annoyance because you don’t really have another choice. You’re going to take care of these kittens whether you really want to or not, but hopefully it won’t be for more than a couple of days.

When Thursday rolls around and you still have the kittens, you realize how naïve you’d been. The first couple of days were hell like you thought they would be, but there were little reprieves throughout the day while at work. Someone else would check on Bo and Charlie, everyone loved their names, or a cancellation in your schedule gave you more time to play catch up.

However, Thursday morning you’re not even at lunch yet and you have a raging headache. You’d stayed up late last night taking care of the kittens because when you went to check on them before bed, you noticed that Charlie wasn’t moving. You had hoped he was asleep, but he was actually blue and barely breathing. You had done what you could before rushing to the hospital where you stayed until only a few hours before you had to go to work.

Now you were falling asleep at your computer while you tried to work on a medical record. You reached for your water bottle since you couldn’t take any more pain meds right now, but you miscalculate and it tumbles to the floor spilling water everywhere.

“Shit!”

You hurry to pick up the bottle you stupidly left open and looked around for something to clean it with when there was a knock on your door. You turn, abandoning the mess for now, to see Mina standing in the doorway with a concerned look.

“Everything okay?”

You just nod before getting off the floor and sitting back in your chair. You cringe slightly as you nod which undermines your response but that’s okay for now. Luckily Mina has some news for you.

“All good, thanks. What’s up?”

Mina smiles as she tells you about her friend’s friend that finally figured out how she could take the kittens.

“She says that her parents will take her dog for a couple weeks so she can keep them until we can adopt them out.”

You sigh in relief before smiling widely at the news. You shoot Mina a grateful look before feeling yourself relax. The tension and stress that has built up for the past couple of days leaves your body and you feel lighter.

“Thank you, Mina. That’s great news! Do I need to meet them somewhere?”

Mina shook her head and said that she could take them to her after work today. You were tempted to hug her, but you had a lot of dog hair on you and probably some water, so you held back. Still you were smiling as you thanked her again. You were ready to sleep through the night again for sure.

“Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

The rest of the day goes much better for you because simply knowing that you will sleep better brightens your mood. You still have your damn headache, but even that gets better after the first couple of afternoon appointments. It’s not until the end of the day, that you realize you have to say goodbye to the kittens. At least for the next couple of weeks. You wander back to isolation where they’re being kept with a frown. You watch them just sleep and occasionally squirm for a few minutes before you realize that you’re no longer alone.

You move out of the way so Mina can join you in the small room before asking despite already knowing the answer.

“Time to go?”

Mina has all of her things and she just nods before moving to collect the kittens. They mewl a little at being disturbed and you smile at the adorable sight before holding the door open for her. You follow the brunette out and sigh as she turns to leave.

“See you soon kittens. Please thank her again for me?”

Mina just nods in agreement before she heads out to the parking lot, and you sigh again before remembering that you have your own things to collect before you can leave for the night. You don’t work tomorrow or this weekend, so you have a nice long time to catch up on some sleep.  You’re so eager to get home and sleep that you forget your phone upstairs, and you’re so tired you consider leaving it there. Deciding against it, you hurry to your office to grab it before running back downstairs to where your dog is whining impatiently. You silence him with a quick scratch before heading for the parking lot. You put your phone in your pocket without bothering to check it, so you miss the fact you have a couple of missed calls and two new text messages from Billie.

Are you still at work, sweetheart?

Do you want to come over after?  

Part 21

TAGLIST ❤: @madamevirgo​, @illuminated-blue​, @delias-bitch-craft​

[leiawritesstories]

Another Place

Nessian Week, Day 5: Alternate Universe (AU) Day

Yes, I took the prompt literally. ;)

Word count: 2914

Warnings: fuzzy science, fuzzy space mumbo jumbo, language

Skye Penderwick belongs to Jeanne Birdsall. All other characters belong to SJM. 

@nessianweek

~~~~~~

“I’m heading out, Doctor.”

Dr. Nesta Archeron, who held a PhD in astrophysics, looked up from her desk. “All right, Skye, thanks for everything. See you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. Don’t forget to sleep, Dr. Arch!”

“Never do, Dr. Pen!”

The other astrophysicist’s snort of laughter floated down the hall. “Yeah, right.”

Fine, maybe there were nights when Nesta stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, scribbling calculations on the chalkboards and in her notes, combing through theories of all the great scientists before her, adding bits and pieces to her own theory, and generally ruining her sleep schedule with badly timed, random “a-ha!” moments. But to be fair, seven years of developing a theory of alternate universes would do that to a person. 

Seven years ago, she’d run across an anomaly on a deep-space image that didn’t match anything ever recorded or observed by any scientist, ever. And yet it was small enough that most scientists could easily overlook it; it blended into the edge of the nebula that was the focus of the image. Nesta had noticed it, though, and that small imperfection, the wrinkle in the darkness of space, rooted into her mind and stayed there, leading her to question what the hell that blur was and why the hell it was there.

Which in turn led her down the murky rabbit hole of various theories of wormholes and other flaws in space-time, none of which aligned with her observations. And then down the even murkier rabbit hole of theories (of varying degrees of coherence) of parallel and alternate universes. The alternate universe idea in particular intrigued Nesta, and she spent weeks researching every bit of information available, noting how it lined up with her observations, and finally coming to a realization that this image her team had captured could serve as visible, concrete evidence in favor of a theory of alternate universes.

She’d drafted the first bit of her theory and formed a small team to develop it by the next morning.

After five years, countless different images of the anomaly, multiple variations on complex equations, much screaming, and three lifetimes’ worth of coffee, Dr. Nesta Archeron hit a wall.

Literally and figuratively.

Because when she ran into what seemed like an insurmountable block, she punched the nearest wall as hard as possible.

The cracks still radiated across one wall of her lab.

That block, and her efforts to break through it, introduced her to Dr. Skye Penderwick, a brilliant American astrophysicist who, coincidentally, also happened to be fascinated by the theory of alternate universes, despite having no theory of her own. She’d been working at the same facility as Nesta for several months before the two actually met, and within days of Nesta inviting her into her lab, she’d proposed a potential solution to the Archeron team’s roadblock.

It worked.

Nesta offered her a collaborator position that very day. Skye accepted.

Two years later, they were on the edge of breakthrough. Both of them knew it. Both of them saw clearly where their calculations, their notes, their carefully chronicled, detailed observations of the motion of the anomaly, and their years of hard work were leading. The theory Nesta so elegantly posited was nearly complete. All the two self-described space nerds needed was something, anything, to hint beyond scientific explanation that on the other side of that anomaly laid an alternate Earth.

Unfortunately, that something hadn’t shown up quite yet.

For, despite all the remarkable achievements of space science--lightspeed travel, quantum leaping, imaging software capable of capturing formations’ minute details, even the discovery of other habitable planets in faraway galaxies--nobody had yet been able to present a coherent, plausible theory of an alternate universe.

Yet.

Sighing, Nesta pushed back from her desk and walked to the back of her laboratory. She placed her index finger in a barely visible indent in the pristine white wall. A panel slid silently open, revealing a space illuminated by a soft blue glow. A nondescript grey-and-cobalt pressure suit hung neatly in a glass case. Nudging the panel closed, Nesta opened the case and removed the pressure suit.

Hers.

For her…uncatalogued trips. Trips to the station her team had planted by the anomaly. 

Trips which Nesta took regularly. She couldn’t risk any of her team traveling; each and every one of them was needed in the lab. No, it was her job and hers alone to make a regular leap to the station, check on their telescopes, and observe the anomaly up close.

She’d never tried to cross it. Not that she believed there was no passage; in fact, she’d painstakingly detailed the fascinatingly inexplicable illusion of a gap that appeared once every year, and had always failed to conclude if there truly was a gap.

Hence tonight’s little jaunt to the station. That gap had just appeared, and since it only showed for sixty hours, she had to go now.

So Dr. Nesta Archeron slid into her pressure suit, fastened the sleek boots and gloves, programmed the correct coordinates into the screen built into the underside of the suit’s left forearm, locked on her helmet, and keyed in the quantum leap sequence.

A blink later, she stood on the steel tiles of her team’s small, simple station deep in the reaches of outer space. Removing her helmet, Nesta allowed herself exactly three minutes to drink in the wonders of deep space.

Then she set the station’s timers for forty-eight hours, sat at the control panel, and piloted her space station/highly advanced spaceship into the gap in the universe.

For it was indeed a gap.

~

Commander Cassian Ilnair released the cockpit hatch of his sleek “interstellar exploration transport,” or, as he called her, the Millenium Falcon. Bloody government and their bloody idiotic pompous names for spaceships. That’s all it was, a spaceship, albeit a highly advanced, highly adaptable one that had carried him and up to four crew safely across nearly every corner of the universe and back to Earth.

Pulling his flight helmet off, he shook out his unruly shoulder-length hair, half- unzipped his navy blue pressure suit, and started postflight checks. 

“She’ll need to be refueled and the usual before she travels again, but other than that, good as new,” he reported to his CO, a woman five feet tall if she was an inch whose impeccable, formidable exploration resumé and take-no-bullshit demeanor made up for her diminutive height. 

“Excellent, Commander. I expect a full report on Disturbance AS-2947C by noon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cassian saluted.

“Dismissed.”

As he headed for the shower, Cass stole a glance at his wrist screen, which showed eight-fifteen a.m. Damn space time, he grumbled to himself, throws off my goddamn body clock. Luckily, he’d noted no significant change in that particular disturbance since the last time he visited it two weeks ago. That’d make his report much easier, indeed.

Sure, the disturbance was rippling ever so slightly, but it did that every year at this time and had been doing so since it appeared exactly seven years ago. 

Not a single scientist in all the ranks of the space force could provide a plausible explanation, or even a cohesive theory.

Disturbance AS-2947C was just that, a disturbance. A puzzling, inexplicable snag in the fabric of space time that had just appeared one day and sat around for seven years, following a routine path of motion but not really moving anywhere, just pulsing, and showing a ripple for exactly sixty hours exactly once per year.

Cassian knew his brilliant astrophysicist friend Dr. Emerie Nguyen was developing a theory that AS-2947C was a wormhole, but so far she hadn’t found any evidence to support there being another side to it. So far, all Emerie could say was that this disturbance could very well be the concrete evidence of stable wormholes she and every other member of the space sciences sector had been chasing for years. And yet they were still chasing it. 

He quickly showered and changed into his everyday uniform, slipped his wristband back on, and drew up a quick set of notes for the commodore. At exactly two minutes before noon, he knocked on her office door.

“Enter.”

Cassian stepped into the office, closed the door, and saluted. “Ma’am.”

“At ease, Commander. I believe you’re early today.”

“Some days I try to be punctual, Commodore.”

“I see.” She motioned to the west wall. “Report, Commander.”

Tapping three fingers twice against the wall, Cassian swiped an image from his tablet onto the wall, which doubled as a presentation screen. 

“Today’s imaging of Disturbance AS-2947C shows no remarkable differences from the last set. The formation has not morphed or shifted noticeably in any direction.” He swiped to a new image. “The annual irregularity in the approximate center of the disturbance appeared on schedule roughly three hours before we arrived, making it now roughly seven hours visible.” 

“Any notable observations about the irregularity?”

“No, Commodore. The irregularity is behaving exactly like it has for the six years we’ve observed it. It merely appears as what looks to be the illusion of a gap, holds steady for sixty hours, and disappears. We have never been able to decipher if the irregularity is in fact a gap or if it is simply a change in the observed color.”

“Have you never attempted to pilot your craft towards this irregularity?”

Cassian swallowed. “With all due respect, Commodore, yes. I believe you are familiar with the deep-space engine failure incident of last year?”

“I am.”

“That was my attempt to discover more about the irregularity.”

“Ah.” The commodore tilted her head, her eyes calculating. “Though I never did hear the pilot’s explanation of this failure.”

“First, may I ask what the engineers’ conclusion was?”

“The engineers concluded that the engine failure, which somehow you managed to prevent from becoming catastrophic, was the result of a power failure caused by the change in the conditions of space within the disturbance. They informed me that the engine short-circuited when your craft entered the boundary of the disturbance, but they could not explain or even theorize why.”

Cassian nodded. “I can theorize why. Commodore, I believe the power failed because, simply put, the way we fuel our crafts does not exist within the disturbance.”

“Are you implying that neither solar nor stellar energy exists within AS-2947C?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am. The instant I entered that region, my engines went completely silent. I had no time to observe anything else, as my immediate reaction was to reverse course and exit, lest I risk total craft failure and being stranded in the deepest parts of space. My craft regained power once outside the disturbance region, and I made it back, despite one of my engines being nonfunctional. As I’ve thought about it over the months, I can only come to the conclusion that the power cut off because there was no available power source.”

Commodore Amren considered Cass’s explanation. “It is logical, and it would explain why the engineers could not determine the cause of the failure. Power source failure, when rectified immediately, leaves behind no visible evidence within the engines of our craft.”

“Commodore, I still want to enter the disturbance. I believe that a craft carrying physical fuel could safely enter the region.”

“Physical fuel became obsolete decades ago, Commander.”

“And yet we still have stores. This is why. We knew there was a chance some mission might need to use fuel rather than energy to power its craft. This is that mission.”

“Commander, I’m afraid I cannot give you clearance to enter the disturbance. Not at the moment, at least. You know the regulations.”

Cassian sighed. “Right, right, seven days between active pilot duty.”

“There is one thing I can do, if you wish.”

“Tell me?”

“You may take a small stationary craft to the observation point. Stations do not qualify as actively piloted craft. I can assign you a seventy-two-hour observation mission, which will allow you to be as close to Disturbance AS-2947C as possible without endangering yourself or your craft, and also will allow you to report any noteworthy changes. Acceptable?”

“Accepted, ma’am. Thank you.”

The commodore nodded once. “I’ll get the assignment written up now. Prepare for launch at 1600 hours.”

Cassian snapped a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Dismissed.”

Four hours later, Cassian’s small observation stationcraft left Earth’s atmosphere, set its destination coordinates, and blinked away into a quantum leap, arriving at the observation point in mere seconds. 

Arrived at destination, the cool, mechanical autopilot voice announced. Artificial gravity effective in sixty seconds.

Cassian sat back, checking his harness. All secure.

Artificial gravity in effect.

Unbuckling, he stood up, pulled off his helmet, and walked to the windows, staring into the fascinating mystery of Disturbance AS-2947C. The irregularity rippled, gently, like he’d seen it do before, taunting him with the possibility of something on the other side. He stood there barely thinking, just marveling at the sight of this enigmatic corner of deep space.

And then the irregularity expanded. And a craft like nothing he’d ever seen flew out.

~

Nesta hadn’t known whether she was sane when she flew into the gap. Hell, she hadn’t known if she was thinking, let alone doing. If wormhole theory meant anything, then she’d expected a moment of terrifying flight through stark blackness that ended in her ship landing in some other, possibly uncharted, part of the universe.

She hadn’t been expecting to see an alien station.

But there it was.

The gap was a tunnel of sorts. And at the other end was a station Nesta didn’t recognize. 

She directed her ship around the foreign station, intending to capture images for examination in her lab. But before she could key in the command to the ship’s cameras, her radio cracked with static. And then someone spoke.

“Who the hell are you?”

Nesta stared at the receiver, then dragged her gaze to the station. Standing in what looked like an observation deck was a man wearing a pressure suit and boots, holding a comm device to his mouth.

“I repeat, who the hell are you?”

“You tell me first. And while you’re at it, what the hell is that station you’re in?”

“It’s a standard observation craft, of course. Unlike whatever alien craft you’re flying.”

“This is a typical exploration ship, you coarse, callous idiot.”

“Like fuck it is.”

“What’s the matter, never seen a woman fly a real ship before?”

“Never seen that particular ship before in my entire life as a pilot. Or in any of my texts.”

“You’re telling me this very real ship I’m flying doesn’t exist?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then--” Nesta’s eyes widened in shock. “Pilot, may I have your name and credentials?”

“Commander Cassian Ilnair, Earth’s space force.”

“Earth’s space force,” Nesta muttered to herself, scanning through her mind for anything related to that name. Nothing. And then it hit her.

“Commander Ilnair, who leads your nation?”

“My nation?” He seemed confused by the word. “Nations melded into a global government centuries ago. President Amarantha currently heads the Global Council.”

A look of wonder crossed Nesta’s face. “It’s true…it’s true. I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“Commander, my name is Dr. Nesta Archeron. I’m from an alternate Earth.”

The man standing in the unfamiliar station dropped his comm device. And stared.

“Permission to attempt to dock at your station? We have some items to discuss.”

He sat down on the deck floor and picked up his radio. “Granted, if you can.”

Nesta flew a slow lap around the station, noticing two docking ports, both with airlocks that seemed oddly familiar. Hmm, she thought, airlock design is clearly universal. Aiming for the port closer to the observation deck, she carefully guided her ship into the space and sighed in relief when the hatch clicked into place with the station’s airlock. 

“Connect the airlock to my ship, if you would?”

“What’s the magic word, Dr. Archeron?” Nesta swore she could hear his damn smirk.

“Please connect your airlock to my ship so I can explain myself.”

“Of course.”

Less than two minutes later, Nesta heard the familiar hiss of an airlock sealing into place around her ship’s hatch. 

“Clear for exit, Dr. Archeron.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

Nesta placed her tablet and several images into her pack, slung it over her shoulder, released her exit hatch, and swiftly ascended the ladder into the station. The moment her head cleared, she was looking around, mentally cataloguing every detail of the spacecraft. It was basic, functional, only containing living quarters and an observation lab. 

“Whenever you’re done gaping, Doctor, we can talk.”

Nesta turned to face the commander, who was leaning against a wall just outside the airlock. “There is a difference between observing and gaping, pilot, not that you would know.”

A cocky grin crept across his face. “Naturally, I’m just one of the best pilots in the universe, I wouldn’t know.”

“Your universe,” she corrected.

“What?”

“Your universe, Commander Ilnair. Or has your tiny brain already forgotten what I said about being from an alternate universe?”

He shook his head. “Right. Sorry, I’m still trying to process that.”

“As am I. Show me to the lab?”

“Not much to show, but follow me.” He led her down a short hallway onto the observation deck and laboratory, clearly the main space of the station. “Here we are. I believe you mentioned something about explaining yourself?”

“I did.”

He gestured toward her. “Go ahead.”

So she did.

[the-delta-42]

Revealed

Inspired by an ask sent to @lenoreofraven

Revealed

Marinette tried to duck away from the Akuma. Rose had been made aware of Lila’s lies and became an ample target for Hawkmoth. Revealler shot beams of light that forced her target to spill out the complete truth, their deepest secrets that they would not share with anyone.

Marinette bit back a cough, as Lila finished spilling about how she had lied to everyone and how she threatened anyone who got in her way. Revealler turned her gaze on Marinette.

“Marinette!” Exclaimed Revealler, skipping toward the girl, “How does it feel to know your friends discarded you for a Liar?”

Marinette glared up at the Akuma, making Revealler sigh.

“I didn’t want to do this.” Whined Revealler, waving her hand.

A gold light appeared in Marinette’s eyes and Revealler grinned.

“So, how does it feel?” Questioned the Akuma, smiling down at Marinette.

“It hurt,” Said Marinette, her voice monotone, “I’ve known some of them for years and they sided with Lila.”

Alya winced, knowing that she owed Marinette a big apology when this was over.

“But it doesn’t matter.” Said Marinette, making the Akuma tilt her head.

“And why is that?” Asked Revealler, forcing Marinette to answer.

“I’m dying.” Said Marinette, her eyes welling up, “I was diagnosed with Late-Stage Leukaemia a few weeks ago and my chances of survival are slim.”

Revealler scowled, “Y-your lying!”

The light grew brighter, forcing Marinette to speak again, “I was diagnosed with late-stage leukaemia a few weeks ago and my chances of survival are slim.”

Marinette suddenly gagged, before coughing up bile with blood mixed into it. Revealler slowly lowered her hand, tears starting to run down her face.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Screamed Revealler, grabbing her head, “Lila was supposed to be exposed and humiliated for what’s she’s done, you weren’t the one supposed to be punished!”

“I’m not being punished, Rose,” Said Marinette, dropping herself to the floor, “Everyone is given a hand at their birth, some of us have poorer hand than others.”

Revealler curled into a ball and started to rock herself back and forth. Marinette reached over and picked up the akumatized item, a picture of Rose and Prince Ali, and reluctantly tore it in half, releasing the Akuma. Rose grabbed into Marinette’s arm and clung to her, her crying being harder. Marinette idly watched as the Akuma flew off, phasing through the window.

Adrien watched as Rose continued to break down. The day became a blur, and the next thing Adrien knew, he was sitting in front of the piano in his room, mindlessly pressing the keys. He heard his bedroom door open and his father walk in, Nathalie not far behind.

“Adrien, you’ve been playing off key for the past two hours,” Said his father, his tone cold, “If you don’t improve, I may have to cut short the time you spend with your frie-”

“Marinette has cancer.” Adrien interrupted, tears starting to run down his face, “T-there was an Akuma that forced people to tell the truth, a-and when Marinette was hit, she told everyone she had l-leu-leukaemia!”

With the last word, Adrien dissolved into tears, Gabriel stood awkwardly, staring at his sons shaking shoulders.

“Adrien, she could still be in the early stages,” Said Nathalie, walking past Gabriel, “she could still undergo treatment.”

“M-Marinette said she only found out when it was already at a late stage,” Sobbed Adrien, “She keeps saying she’s fine, but it’s like when mother went!”

Gabriel froze, he had never once thought on how his mother’s condition would affect him. The last time he had seen his mother, she was propped up in a bed, skinny and gaunt, too weak to walk. As if she had cancer.

Gabriel then did something he had not done in years, he walked over to Adrien and cradled him. Nathalie quietly left the room, silently cancelling all meetings and appointments for the coming week.

R

Lila tried not to flinch as her mother yelled, after she had spilt everything, she’d been removed from class and placed in a separate classroom so she could catch up her work. Lila had tried to protest, but a stern, angry glare from her mother made her duck her head down and do the work.

Lila had her phone, laptop and tablet confiscated until she’d learned the impact of her actions. Marinette, of all people, suggested that someone help her catch up, as if Lila threatening her was not a big deal.

Max, as he put it, drew the short straw. He helped her work out problems, but his voice was cold, and his tone was sharp. Lila took a deep breath in and looked down at the page, staring at it as tear drops landed on the paper.

R

“There’s got to be something!” Gasped Rose, her eyes wide.

“Rose, you’re a sweet girl, naïve sometimes,” Said Ali, “But, I don’t think we’d be able to find a cure for cancer in a couple of weeks.”

Rose nervously chewed her bottom lip.

“The most I can suggest is that you make sure her last days are comfortable.” Said Ali, as Rose let out a small sniffle.

R

Chloe sat curled up on her bed, curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d looked up leukaemia and read about the various stages, signs and the survival chances. It was only with hindsight that Chloe noticed all the signs, the fatigue, weight loss, her lack of appetite, how she’d taken to wearing a hat. Chloe then read about how it all typically ended. Chloe never wanted to admit it, but Marinette was a bright spot in the class, to learn she’d be reduced to a mere husk of herself was devastating.

Chloe dreaded when her mother found out.

R

Marinette nervously chewed on her bottom lip as the parents paced around the living room. They seemed to take Marinette spilling her condition well, then they started pacing and hadn’t said anything since.

Her mother suddenly sat next to her and pulled her into her arms and stroking her hair. Marinette relaxed slightly at the sound of her mother’s heartbeat. Before she noticed her mother was shaking. Marinette leaned back and saw her mother holding a clump of hair, Marinette’s hair.

Marinette swallowed the lump forming in her throat and buried her face in her mother’s arms.

R

Adrien’s leg bounced, quietly waiting for his classmates to arrive. Chloe had called him late last night and told him the effects of late-stage leukaemia. Marinette had been wasting away before their eyes and they didn’t notice a thing. He also found that, since it was late stage, Marinette could die any day now. The classroom door opened, admitting half of the class, the other half arrived within a few minutes and now everyone was waiting for Marinette.

Ms. Bustier entered the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

“Marinette’s been admitted to hospital,” Said Ms. Bustier, quietly, “Her parent said you could visit her after school.”

Adrien suddenly had a lump in his throat, not knowing how to process the information.

R

Marinette hated the nurses, they were dismissive, arrogant and so full of their own self-importance. They seemed to have a game they called humiliating the patients, Marinette had to beg them to clean her after she lost control of her bladder and bowels, they’d just laughed, at least until a doctor caught sight of them.

Dr. Bates had her own team take over tending to the cancer ward, Marinette found Dr. Bates to be enjoyable company. Marinette had been in the ward a couple of weeks and every day, around noon, Dr. Bates would read a poem to them from one of the many books in the hospital. Each day, Marinette felt herself getting weaker, two days ago, she’d begged her parents to come up, she didn’t want to be alone when she went.

Marinette felt her mother’s hand on her, the only sound she could hear was her own breathing, it was getting harder to breath. Marinette was going to close her eyes for a minute.

R

Ms. Bustier quietly made her way into the classroom, her eyes were red.

“Marinette’s parents just phoned.” Said Ms. Bustier, before taking a shuddering breath, “Marinette died in hospital yesterday, she was surrounded by her family.”

Adrien could’ve sworn he heard a buzzing noise for the rest of the day, over half the class had gone home at lunch, Alya and Nino included. Alix, Kim, Max, Adrien, Chloe and Lila were the only ones still in lesson. Alix, Adrien and Max had made the promise to take notes so everyone could catch up. Kim and Lila had to catch up their work. No one knew why Chloe opted to stay. Lila had gone quiet over the past few weeks, Adrien thought it was because how Lila’s lies had finally bitten her. Adrien felt Plagg shift in his pocket, making him look down. Adrien’s bag was fuller than he remembered, until a red, spotted kwami poked her head out and looked up at him. Adrien quickly asked to excuse himself to the toilet.

“Tikki!” Said Adrien, as soon as he entered the toilet, “It’s great you’re here, listen, a friend of mine died-”

“Marinette.” Tikki cut him off, “I can’t help her.”

“Why?!” Asked Adrien, desperation seeping into his voice, “I don’t know what happened to Ladybug, you could convince her-”

“I can’t.” Said Tikki, her antennae drooping.

“Why not?” Demanded Adrien, “Ladybug likes Marinette, she has called her a great help multiple times.”

“Because what happened to Marinette… happened to Ladybug.” Whispered Tikki, looking down.

“W-what?” Whimpered Adrien, not liking how the course the conversation had taken.

“Marinette was Ladybug,” Admitted Tikki, shuddering, “and what happened, was because of me.”

Adrien didn’t trust his voice.

“C-cancer is a mutation of the cells in a living being,” Said Tikki, “w-when I first created it, I thought I was helping humans evolve, I-I never thought it’d become something so horrible.”

“S-so there’s nothing we can do?” Asked Adrien, sliding down to the floor.

That’s how Max found Adrien, curled up on the floor and sobbing. Adrien was sent home, where he curled up under the covers of his bed, the Album cover that Marinette signed pressed against his chest. Adrien heard his father enter his room and sit on Adrien’s bed.

“Adrien, are you alright?” Asked Gabriel, gently grabbing Adrien’s shoulder, “Do you want to talk?”

Adrien was silent, before taking a deep breath and pulled Plagg out from his hiding place, his father’s face was unreadable as Adrien explained who and what Plagg was and how he met him. Gabriel stiffened as Adrien told him about how Ladybug and Marinette were the same person and how the Ladybug Miraculous triggered the condition that took her life.

“The two Miraculous can grant any wish, Adrien.” Said Gabriel, making Adrien freeze, “I wanted them initially to bring your mother back, but I think it’s time to let the past go.”

Gabriel looked down at Plagg and Tikki, “Tell me, what would the price be if I asked for the girl back?”

Plagg and Tikki looked at each other, before looking up at Gabriel.