#my only fear is they answer my question i sent and reference the email i sent like a year and a half ago

[viir-tanadhal]

one month until annually and lost come out

#so close to hearing 4 new psb songs.... please #if i dont think about it it'll be mid-april already #my only fear is they answer my question i sent and reference the email i sent like a year and a half ago #i just hope their management never forwarded my email is all ok yes good #im just here for news and tour notes and the q&a #if they tease another album is coming v soon #aa #chris: didnt you send us an email about [blank]? #id rather die

[boldlyvoid]

Sugar, Honey, Ice Tea | Chapter 5-9

1Summary: Fix-it-fic: Dr. Y/L/N and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Prison Violence, Assault, Blood, Depression, Murder, Self-Hatred, Hurt Spencer Reid, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Use, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Forbidden Love, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Requited Love, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, past abusive relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

Word Count: 14.3K

1-4, 5-9, Epilogue

Chapter 5

Spencer agreed to a Thursday night game night in her office sometime last week, and she’s spent every day since then planning it out for him.

Learning that he really loved Tandoori chicken, making it from scratch at home and packaging it into a couple containers to bring into work. She followed a recipe from Pinterest, hoping it bared any resemblance to what he was used to, only changing full chicken to boneless bite size cutlets, because he couldn’t use a knife in the prison.

She got a chess set at the store, as well as a deck of playing cards for the Vegas boy. Rushing out her door early Thursday morning so she could stop and get a coffee and one of his favourite doughnuts too.

Deciding that she wasn’t going to tell him how she felt any time soon, just wanting to show him friendship and support until he was finally out of prison. Vowing to uphold her oath, he was a patient in her care, she would care for him as such until he wasn’t.

She carefully placed her lunchbox and the chess set on the security desk, letting them look through it as she waited. Taking out all the food from her bag, looking through the plastic to ensure she wasn’t sneaking in anything.

“It’s just my lunch for the next 2 days, I promise,” she smiled.

“I know, but I have to look anyway,” the nice man smiled. “Have a good day today Dr. Pat.”

“Thank’s, you too, officer Kyle,” she smiled, picking her things back up and heading past the gates.

Spencer was turning the corner towards the infirmary as she walked towards the door. Officer Wilkins holding him in handcuffs as he roughly walked Spencer to her office.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she stopped, looking at Wilkins like he was an idiot. “Un-cuff inmate Reid, he’s not a threat. Plus, he can hold some things for me.”

“Whatever,” he huffed, roughly taking the cuffs off Spencer's wrists before leaving. Not saying another word.

“What a dick,” she mumbled as she handed him the lunchbox.

“Good morning Spencer,” she changed her tone to match her growing smile.

He sighed, smiling back as he rubbed his wrists. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”

She opened the infirmary door, walking past all the sleeping men in the care area. Unlocking her office before inviting Spencer in. “Sorry I was almost late,” she said softly, taking the chess set and a brown paper bag out of her purse.

She set it on Spencer's desk along with the coffee that was in her hand, “for all your help this week,” she smiled.

Spencer placed her lunchbox in her fridge, laying a hand on her back as he walked past her towards his desk. “You’re too kind to me,” he was bashful as always.

“I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” she closed the door softly, making sure the blinds on the doors window were closed as well.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he tried to joke as he sat down.

“I asked to help with your case, maybe give a fresh opinion, so Penelope sent me all the files but I haven’t opened them yet,” she sat on the edge of her desk. Trying to read his body language as he took out his donut.

He liked the pink frosting off his finger, nodding as he followed along. “Why not?”

“I wanted your permission,” she pressed her lips together in an awkward smiled. His eyes raising to meet hers, innocent as ever.

“Oh?”

“You’re very reserved, you have rules about what you share, I don’t want to break the trust we’ve built by looking into something so intimate,” she explained her thoughts. “It’s not fair for me to learn about the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, without you being the one to tell me.”

“What do you know already?” He asked softly, blinking at her as he patiently waited.

She smiled at him softly, grateful that he understood. “I know the 3 charges that you’re in on, and that you’re being framed.”

“I think I would prefer it if you read the file and just asked me questions. I don’t think I have the mental capacity to recite it all back to you today,” he was honest. Taking a sip of his coffee and looking away from her.

Giving up so much of himself to her so early in the day, she felt like he was finally comfortable with her.

She found the key to his thoughts and it opened just right, she could see the hurt that flowed through him, but she could also see the happiness. The side of him that he was afraid to bring out, in fear it would get him in more trouble.

“Okay,” she agreed. Sitting at her desk and finally opening the email form Penelope.

She read through his tox-screens, his drug history, his mental state. His first-hand accounts, witness statements, clues and findings his team had made. It all felt like the plot to a bad movie about revenge, possibly even female rage. But for what?

“I finished reading,” she said softly, brows furrowed as she chews the inside of her cheek. “Do you know anyone other than this Mr. Scratch guy who you’ve put away, wronged, lead on, or just pissed off?”

“Why?” He asked, clearly attached to the idea this was all Mr. Scratch’s doing.

“It feels like revenge, but very well planed. Like a women is mad at you so she found your weakness, I’ve done mean shit to exes in the past but this is insane. They knew you’d do anything for your mom, they knew your drug history, and the fact you might get schizophrenia one day, they wanted to drug you and make you think you did all this.”

Spencer stood then, listening to her words as he scrunched his face. Thinking as hard as he could, “can you call Penelope?”

“Yeah,” she nodded as she dialled her number, putting her on speaker phone.

“Well hello there, Love Doctor,” Penelope teased as she answered.

“Um hi, Spencer wanted to talk to you,” she panicked.

“Oh, sorry, how are you Spencer?”

Spencer looked so confused, “I’m good… Y/N and I were looking at the case files you sent-”

“Good, did you find anything?” Penelope cut in, eager to talk to him.

“Have you looked into everyone I’ve ever encountered on a case? Specifically women?” Spencer asked. “I told my lawyer and Emily that I remember a woman being there and helping, she must know me from a case too, like the other prison escapees he’s helped?”

“On it pretty boy, any specifics about her that you remember?” Penelope asked over the sound of her keyboard clicking away.

“Long brown hair, but it’s probably different now,” he added. “Everything else is dark, I didn’t see her face or any other features.”

“Alright, call me anytime Spence, I miss you,” Penelope said softly, changing her tone to a more sensitive one. “Take care of each other, my loves.”

“Love you,” they say at the same time. Looking at each other awkwardly after she hung up, leaving them to sit with their words alone.

Spencer was leaning so close to her she could feel his body heat radiating off him. Spencer placed his hand on her shoulder as he stood straight, towering over her as she looked up at him.

“I have patients to talk to, but I brought chess for you to teach me later,” she smiled up at him.

“Can’t wait,” he beamed a smile back.

She felt his hand rub the back of her blue scrubs lightly, pulling away as he walked back around to his desk. She watched him with careful eyes, wishing he would have stayed longer.

—

Normally at 4:30, Y/N would bring Spencer a tray of whatever the kitchen was serving her patients for dinner that night. Tonight, however, she walked into her office at 5 pm on the dot, closing the clinic for the night and putting all her attention on Spencer.

“So,” she smiled as she leaned against her office door, excitement radiating out of her. “A little birdie told me that you really like Indian food, Tandoori chicken to be exact…”

“No way?” He gasped as he turned around in his chair.

She nodded with a cheeky grin, “homemade so I could sneak it in.”

She took her lunch box out of her mini-fridge, opening it up to show him the 2 Tupperware containers. One for him, the other for her. She took the lids off and dished it onto 2 plates she keeps in the cabinet above the fridge.

Spencer grew more and more excited as she warmed it up, filling the room with a familiar smell. He was so happy, “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you do for me?”

“Come here,” she said softly, watching him walk towards her carefully.

She wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him in a hug. He carefully placed his hands on her back, holding her against his chest as he snuggled his cheek into her hair again.

“I’ll take hugs as payment from now on,” she pulled back from him as the microwaved beeped.

Taking a plastic spoon from the cutlery jar, she opened the microwave and handed him a plate. “Did you want to stay in here or go to the break room? I never use it cause I don’t have any co-workers, but it has a couch and a coffee table?”

“Okay,” he smiled. Taking the plate from her and waiting for her to warm up her own meal before taking a bite.

He was ever the gentleman.

Y/N reached back into her lunch box, taking out the package of naan bread, seeing Spencer’s eyes basically roll into the back of his head. “You thought of everything?”

“Bread is my life,” she laughed.

When her food was ready, she placed it on top of the chess box and led the way down to the break room. Spencer holding every door for her.

She flicked on the lights in the break room, watching them strobe before making that awful powering up frequency. She groaned, putting her food on the table before turning on a few lamps instead.

The room went from bright and anxious to relaxed and personal, the amber glow bouncing off the cream walls, it was nice. As nice as it could be in a prison. She never thought she’d be having a date at a prison.

That’s basically what this was, a date.

She made him dinner, they were going to play games, he was going to sit right beside her, close enough to kiss. She really wanted to, she’s thought about it a lot, his pink lips were perfect and she just wanted to see how they’d feel between her own.

But she wont.

“Dig in honey,” the name rolled over her tongue like it was always meant to.

She felt his eyes on her right away, realizing that she called him honey in a situation where he wasn’t crying, where he wasn’t vulnerable. She said it as a term of endearment, she couldn’t stop the embarrassment form settling in her veins.

She sat beside his softly, picking up her dinner and pretending it didn’t happen. “Thank you,” Spencer cut into the awkwardness.

“You’re welcome,” she said softly. Feeling like she could flip inside out at any moment.

From the corner of her eye she saw him take the first bite, closing his eyes as he appreciated the moment. His shoulders settled as he chewed, she could swear he almost moaned as he ate it. She has had the food in the cafeteria before, she understood his reaction.

“That good?” She asked, teasing him softly.

He nodded, silent as he took it all in. He took another bite, and another, she felt like he was going to get the hiccups at this rate but it was too cute to stop. He was like a stray dog eating inside for the first time in months, it made her happy and then a little sad.

He stayed quiet the whole time. Crossing his legs as he sat on the couch, the plate pulled in close to his chest as he shovelled spoonfuls of food into his mouth. She sat there admiring him as he did so, falling more and more every time she glanced at him.

“That was delicious,” Spencer said as he stood, placing his plate on the counter across the room. “Are you done?” He asked, taking her plate as she reached it out to him.

“Yeah, thanks,” she watched him carefully, always wanting to help her in whatever way he could.

He didn’t sit on the couch when he came back, instead, sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, taking the chess set out and beginning to set it up. Not wanting to miss a moment of the freedom he felt when he was with her.

“So, chess is pretty easy to learn,” he said, looking up at her through thick eyelashes as he spoke. “Do you know any of the rules yet?”

“Um, I know where they all go, I know that you can’t go through other pieces and the horse gets to jump?” She tried to remember all the way back to grade 4, the last time someone explained the rules to her.

He was so soft with her, explaining the rules and showing her what to do. His hand would lightly brush over hers occasionally, eventually, he’d just guide her hand over the pieces that she should move. It was so nice to just be alone with him, knowing they were both allowed to be happy.

The room was mostly silent, only the sound of Spencer's advice and her giggle as she still wasn’t grasping the concept of the game.

“I just like, don’t care about the rules?” She couldn’t stop giggling at the fact she wasn’t picking up on anything he said.

Spencer laughed, it was deep and hearty, right from his soul, “then how do you want to play?”

She picked up the queen and moved it to a random spot, “I want to put this here and fight your guy. That’s why I don't get this, what is my XP? What are their skills? I was raised on Pokemon, honey.”

He made his way back to the couch, sitting closely beside her. “Well sugar pie, do you have any other games you want to play?”

She couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and pressing her lips against his. His hands wrapped around her waist on instinct as they connected.

It was everything she imagined. Soft, gentle, refreshing. Like a cold glass of ice tea on a hot summers day. She wanted more, never letting up as she kissed him.

Spencer was the one to pull off first, “shit,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared at him, horrified.

He laughed, smiling at her softly. “It’s okay,” he promised, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

She doesn’t stop him from pulling her back in, holding her hand on his cheek as he kissed her again. Hungrier than before, Spencer’s tongue was on a mission. He tastes like dinner, but with his own Spencer difference.

Kissing him felt like a fairytale coming true.

She forgot where they were, his hands on the back of her scrubs and her hands in his hair as their mouths clashed. She started to lay back on the couch, pulling him down on top of her.

“We can't,” he pants against her lips. Regretting it as he pulls away from her.

“Sorry, this was unprofessional I know,” she tried to play it off.

Spencer pulled her back in, flush against his chest once more. “No, I don’t regret it. It’s just, I’m not ready.”

“Oh,” she says softly. Then it clicks, “oh, oh my god, Spencer I’m so sorry I forgot. I didn’t mean to push you into anything,” she worries, running her hands over his arms softly.

He shakes his head, “you didn’t. I want to, believe me, I just don’t think I can handle the after part…”

“I cried for 3 hours after I had sex again, after everything,” she told him in complete honesty. Not even Savannah or Derek knew that.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” she assured him. “You shouldn’t have to be the only vulnerable one here, I want you to know about me.”

“You don’t have to tell me the details, I don’t want to think about someone hurting you,” he whispered, his eyes innocently studying her face for how she was feeling.

“Okay, so here’s everything else,” she was still holding his face in her hands. Rubbing her thumb over his cheeks. “I had 2 moms and a little sister, and I was raised in Boston. I met Savannah in 2004, I worked with her until a few years ago. She’s my best friend, Derek is like my big brother.”

She gave him the basics, “I don’t have a dad, my mom used the same donor for me and my sister, so I’ve never really felt safe around men because I never knew many.”

“Understandable,” he smiled softly. “what’s your mom like?”

“She died when I was 26,” she pressed her lips together awkwardly. “I haven’t talked to her wife since then, my other mom, she remarried not long after. I think she was cheating on my mom when she was going through chemo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“I can relate to a lot of the stories I know about you already. My mom was my world, I don’t know my dad. I’ve been hurt by people, I’ve lost a lot of myself while trying to help others,” she brushed her nose against his softly. Letting him know she wasn’t pulling back any time soon. “Who you are is not what you did, or what you’ve been through.”

He kisses her again softly. Breathing in through his nose lightly, his hand on her back pulling her in closer and closer. He didn’t want to let her go, and she was more than happy staying in his embrace forever.

He pulled back softly, “I lied to you.” He whispered against her lips.

“When?” She asked, scared to know the answer.

“I do remember you from Derek’s wedding, he told me about you a long time ago. I told him I was ready for dating again when you told him about Mark,” he couldn’t look at her.

“That’s not a huge lie,” she smiled softly. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking at you all night, with that little blond boy. You two were so sweet, Mark got really mad at me for staring at you actually.”

“Derek told me when he hurt you, he came to my apartment right after so he wouldn’t go and kill him,” Spencer’s voice was so low she had to stare at his lips to understand him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she shook her head softly, kissing the tip of his nose. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want to go back to my cell,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.

Breaking her heart in the process.

She kissed his cheeks and his lips a few times, peppering kisses to his soft face to make up for it. “We can’t do this again until you’re free,” she whispered.

“I understand.”

“So you better think long and hard about this woman you remember so I can track her down and shove her in that cell instead,” Y/N’s stern voice made him smile.

“Thank you,” he replied again, hugging her the way he promised he would thank her from now on.

—

For being 9 pm on a spring night, it was rather warm in the Vermont parking lot. She left the prison a while ago, not able to leave Spencer’s gravitational pull yet as she sat there, staring at the prison thinking about him alone in his cell instead of pressed against her chest for the rest of the night.

Thinking about the feeling of Spencer’s hands on her body and his tender lips. Her hand over her mouth as she remembered how his bottom lip ghosted over her own, the anticipation was enough to light her on fire.

She took out her phone and called Derek, knowing he would put her on speaker if they were already in bed for the night. Really needing her best friends right now.

“Hey kick-ass, how are you doing today?” Derek’s voice was overly cheery, “Hey!” Savannah added in the background.

“I’m in love with him.”

Chapter 6

She barely slept anymore. Waking up at 6 am every morning without her alarm clock, her heart physically aching to return to Spencer's side after a night without him. She felt like a love-sick school girl, wanting to be with him all day even if they had nothing to say. Just looking at him was enough to make her happy.

A few weeks passed. Weeks filled with smiles and laughter, singing and reading, inside jokes and shared jello cups. She was so madly in love with him, hugging him every morning when he arrived and every night before he left. Keeping her word, kissing him on the cheek every so often instead.

She started a routine of picking up a coffee and a donut for Spencer every single Thursday, worried that he probably thought about his case all night, yet again. Which only kept her up worrying all night about him, wondering if he was doing okay all alone.

Only getting sleep when she remembered that he had a photo of her, his mom, Derek and hank with him. He’d be okay.

She walked into the infirmary to find Jerry and Mike waiting for her with a guard. Mike bleeding all down his face while Jerry held his clearly broken hand.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” she sighed. Putting all her things in her office before coming back to care for them.

She excused the guard, telling him she had it from here. They wouldn’t put up any more fights with her, they looked up to her like a momma bear, and they were her terrible cubs.

“It is 7:33 am, who the fuck did you have to fight this early?” She whisper yelled at them. Not wanting to wake Leo in the care ward, “who is worth this?”

“You don’t want to know,” Mike said under his breath.

“Well clearly he’s not here, is he dead or in violent crimes? If you two fucked up our plan of me helping you during parole next year, I’m going to be pissed,” she tried her best to entice the answers out of them.

“It was Shaw,” Jerry said softly. “He was planning to hurt the new guy, he’s all fake buddy-buddy with him.”

“Excuse me?” She panicked.

“He’s been talking to Milos at night in the locker room, Wilkins lets him out of his cell and into gen-pop,” Mike carried on the story as she tried to clean the blood off his eyebrow.

“What are they going to do to Spence?”

“Spence?” Jerry teased her, poking her side. “I didn’t know he had a nickname already. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“I’ve kept him locked away to be safe, I’m going to find a way to keep him here at night,” She said softly. “He’s best friends with my brother, I can’t let him get hurt.”

“So you knew him in freedom land?”

She nodded, “a little.”

“All you need is a bandaid,” she changed the subject as she reached into her kit. “And Jerry I’m going to have to set your fingers back in place, if you scream in my face, I will kick you in the nuts.”

They laughed at her fake tuff guy act, never actually being able to hurt them. They were her buddies, giving her a big hug after she finished with them. Getting them both a pudding and telling them to stay put for the day if they wanted to.

Spencer found her in the lab when he arrived, she knew it was him when the door opened, no one else had a passkey to get in. She was writing down some numbers on a chart when he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She dropped her pen and turned around in his grasp, holding his face in her hands immediately as she pulled him into a quick kiss.

“I thought you said I couldn’t do that again till I’m free?” He asked softly. Kissing her a second time as he finished.

She smiled against his lips, “you’re free when we’re alone.”

He kissed her harder. His hands around her waist as he picked her up slightly. Twirling her around as they kissed, she laughed against his skin. Unable to stop herself from smiling as she held onto him.

She kissed him one last time as he put her down on the floor, “I have a coffee and donut for you in my office.”

“You’re too good to me, Sugar Pie.”

“Anything for you, Honey Bunch,” she bit her lip as she smiled at him again. So absolutely overwhelmed with love for him.

“I actually have a serious question to ask you,” his tone changed, making her concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m still trying to figure out more about that night, and I think I want to try exposure therapy,” he explained. “I was wondering if you’d help me get high, so I can remember what happened in the same mindset.”

“Okay,” she nodded softly. “I can book you in for the night here, say you’re under observation, and I’ll stay here with you.”

“Are you sure?”

She kissed him softly again, looking up at him with a smile after. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll help you. But we need some ground rules.”

“Of course,” he agreed. Letting go of her as she stepped back, leaning against the counter now.

“No kissing, nothing like that, we’ll do it in my office so you can be alone and then later you’ll sleep in the observation room. Leo is in there, he’s harmless and sleeps all night on his morphine anyway,” she explained. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, I don’t want you to regret it. It’s going to be hard to sober up again once you get a taste of euphoria in here.”

He nodded along as she set the rules, “those are good. Thank you.”

“They drugged you with heroin, and while I know where to get some, I’m not letting you do that,” she laughed. “I have Dilaudid in pills and liquid morphine.” Letting him pick his poison.

“The pills will be fine,” he said softly.

“Alright,” she smiled. “And if you want, when you get out I can take you to a meeting? You’ll need to talk to someone other than me, someone who gets it.”

“You’ll stay with me after all this?”

“As long as you let me,” she felt her heart grow 3 sizes at the way his puppy dog eyes stared back at her. “Go have your breakfast and I will come to see you soon, okay honey?”

His smile was glorious, she could feel the love radiating off him as he looked at her. It felt wonderful, knowing at that moment her feelings weren’t one-sided. That he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. He was going to be good to her.

—

She had mike and Jerry help her move the couch from the break room and into her office, allowing them to meet Spencer, finally. It was awkward at first, two big muscle men telling him how much they also loved their Sugar.

“Should we tell him?” Mike nudged Jerry.

“What?” Spencer asked softly, sitting at his desk on the other side of the room, really not enjoying their alpha energy.

“Shaw, Milos and Wilkins are all secretly buddies, they were planning to hurt you and so Mike and Jerry beat Shaw up in the yard,” she scrunched her face as she explained it, not ready for his reaction.

“How?”

“After they cut that kid's throat, they wanted to get you to run heroin for them. But you ended up in here, we heard them in gen-pop last night saying they wanted to get you,” Jerry explained as he played with the bandages on his hand. “He won't be out of the violent offender's infirmary for a while.”

“Thank you,” he replied to them with a pressed-lipped smile. “I need to call my team about the case.”

That was their queue to leave, Y/N patting them on the back for the help, telling them they could stay with Leo or go back to the yard, she didn’t care. They just couldn’t be in her office for this.

Spencer looked a little pissed off. “I didn’t ask them to do that,” she said, defensively.

“I’m not mad at you,” he shakes his head softly as steps into her space. “You’re the only person I can trust in here.”

She placed her hand on his chest softly, “call Penelope. Take your time on the phone with the team.” She handed him her cell phone, “FaceTime them if you want. See their faces, it’ll be okay.”

He hugged her, a silent thank you. She ran her hands over his back as she pressed her face into his neck. Holding back every instinct to tell him she loved him as she pulled away.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled. Taking her phone, “how do I?”

She couldn’t help laughing, “here,” she dialled Penelope’s cellphone number and hit the FaceTime button.

Seeing her beautiful, bright and bubbly face smile as she answered. “Hey! Oh my god, hold on,” they watched as she got up and ran down a hallway.

Spencer was instant giggles and smiles, a side of him she’s never seen before. True, pure love. This was his family, these were his people. She could see herself fitting into his little world one day.

“Guys! It’s Spencer!” She yelled as she ran into another room.

“What’s wrong?” “Is he okay?”

Suddenly she turned the phone sideways to show all his co-workers. “Hi!” He waved to them.

“Spence!” Emily and JJ cheered, “oh you look so good.”

“I feel good, how are you all?” He asked softly, taking her phone and sitting down at his desk.

She watched him softly from the door, slipping out when she saw his attention was fully on his past life. She walked down the hall towards the lab, hearing his laughter through the walls.

—

She placed 2 pills in a plastic cup, taking an apple juice and jello from the fridge for Spencer. She placed it on his desk 20 minutes before his shift ended, giving him a little space to decide when he wanted to. He told her that he get’s cold when he comes down from a high, so she leaves a fluffy blanket and a pillow on the couch before slipping back out of the room.

She returned to the care unit, looking over Leo as he got ready for the night. Administering his meds and wishing him a good night. She closed his curtain, so when Spencer eventually went to bed he wouldn’t be disturbed.

When she finally settled into her office for the night, Spencer was in the dark. Sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. “Hey,” he said softly.

“How are you?” She asked softly. Closing the door behind herself. Locking it and making sure all the blinds were closed.

“It’s going to hit soon,” he said softly. Suddenly embarrassed and closed off, hiding from her as he laid down.

She didn’t want to bother him, sitting at her desk with her reports. The light from the computer is just enough to see what she was looking at. She glanced at him every few minutes to make sure he was okay.

He enjoys it at first, a blissed-out look on his face as his head is tossed back against the couch. She knows the exact euphoria he’s feeling, she understood perfectly why someone would want to escape like that.

Then his face changes as he starts to hate it, he mumbles to himself with his eyes squeezed shut, she could see him gripping the sheets as he tries to force himself to remember.

She’s uncomfortable watching it, feeling like an intruder. She tried to only focus on her work, flipping through emails and Twitter, scrolling through Facebook for the first time in months to preoccupy her mind.

He was like that for at least an hour.

She could hear his teeth chattering as he came down, just like he said would happen. “You okay, honey?”

“Y-yeah,” he tried to speak through the shaking. “C-can we cuddle?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, turning on her desk lamp before joining him on the couch.

She pulled him up into a sitting position, sitting where his head once was and letting him settle into her lap. She ran her hands through his hair, combing through the locks as she shushed him. Running her hand up and down his back in a tender motion, he snuggled into her leg.

“I’m not that high anymore,” he says softly.

“I know, it’s okay if you are. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

It makes her stop. Her whole body stills at the words, he wanted to clarify so she’d know it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. She closes her eyes and squeezes them shut, biting her lip as she tries not to burst into tears.

He felt it too.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, “sit up.” She instructs him softly.

She laid down against the couch then, waiting for him to snuggle into her side. Wrapping the blanket around them both as they found the most comfortable position.

“Sorry,” he whispered against the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay, it just feels wrong for me to say it back right now. I feel the same, believe me, Spencer.” She wanted to assure him to the best of her ability. “But you’re still an inmate in my care, I can’t. Not yet.”

“You don’t have to,” he pulled back to look her in the eyes, his own still droopy from how tired the drugs made him. “I’m going to love you regardless.”

She broke her own rules. Kissing him softly, holding him close to her, under the blanket where both their body heat was trapped. She had never felt safer in her entire life.

Spencer only crawling into that bed in the care ward when he woke up to her alarm the following morning.

Chapter 7

There’s someone banging on her office door just a little after 8 am. She was in the middle of putting a new pair of scrubs on over her long-sleeve undershirt, the banging on her door doesn’t stop until she opens the door.

“What?” She yells at them.

It’s Officer Wilkins. “Where is inmate Reid? We have a visitor for him.”

“No one is scheduled to see him today?”

“There is now. Where is he?” The man towered over her. Trying his best to intimidate her.

“Care ward. I’ll get him. You can go wait in the waiting room,” she pushes past him. Watching him stumble as he hits the wall.

“He’s not worth dying over,” he whispers under his breath.

She doesn’t leave Reid’s side as Wilkins attempts to escort him to an interrogation room. Y/N stands in the observation room as Spencer waits, cuffed to the table. Looking through the mirror at each other, only he couldn’t see her. He just knew she would be there.

“Mom?” Spencer’s shocked voice breaks her out of her thoughts as she sees Diana walking into the room.

A dark-haired woman she’s never met before escorting her in. Y/N whips her phone out to take a quick photo before running back to her office as quickly as she can.

Y/N: I need you to check on Cassie, Diana’s nurse. Someone I don’t know just brought Diana to the prison.

She attached the photo she took, setting her phone down to looking through the visitor's logs on her computer. Wanting to know the name of the woman accompanying Diana.

“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice says from her doorway.

She looks up at him from her desk. Wilkins is stepping into her space with a look of guilt, taking his baton off his belt.

“You don’t have to do this,” she backed up against the wall, trying to keep as much distance from him as possible.

“I have to,” his tone changed. Like a personality switch, his eyes darkened as he charged at her.

She ran around the desk, watching him follow. Punching her in the face, causing her to fall back against the couch, she didn’t want him to get on top of her. Dropping to the carpeted floor as he dove onto the couch.

She crawled on the floor towards the door as he tried to get up. Standing as fast as she could, roundhouse kicking him in the face with a grunt. Her foot hit his jaw at just the right angle, rendering him unconscious.

She reached for his cuffs as soon as he hit the floor, “Leo!! Help!” She screamed down the hall.

She heard bare feet running down the hall, followed by the sound of rubber on linoleum. “Sugar??” Mike and Jerry yelled as they followed.

“Watch him,” she insisted once the cuffs were on him. “Hurt him if you have to.”

She took the second pair of cuffs off Wilkins's belt before running out of the room, her lip busted and bleeding down her neck.

She ran down the hall towards Spencer, busting into the room and knocking the nurse to the ground. Struggling to get her onto her stomach, “stop struggling, who the fuck are you?”

“Get off me!” She screamed in return.

Y/N cuffed her and pulled her to her feet, pushing her against the stone wall.

“What is going on?” Spencer stood up, cuffed to the table so he couldn’t help.

“Wilkins just attacked me, Diana wasn’t supposed to be here,” she said over her shoulder in Spencer’s direction. “So I’ll ask again,” she whispered in the woman's ear as she pushed her against the wall harder. “Who, the fuck! Are you?”

“He knows me,” she spat out.

Y/N ripped her off the wall, making her look at Spencer who was shocked, speechless as he tried to remember her face. “Who is she?”

“She told me Cassie was fired, she’s been with me all morning?” Diana tried to explain, slightly freaking out.

“I sent her photo to Penelope, I need a guard,” Y/N said, hauling the unknown women into the hall with her.

—

The prison was put on lockdown as they tried to figure out this security breach. Wilkins and the nurse being held in prison custody as they waited for the BAU team to fly in.

Figuring out that her name was Lindsay Vaughn, Spencer remembered as much as he could about her. How he tried to save her dad, losing him to his carnal need to kill. Lindsay following closely in her daddy's footsteps.

Diana sat at Spencer’s desk, Mike and Jerry stand watch at the door. Y/N was sitting on top of her desk in front of Spencer, it was his turn to run alcohol over her cuts. Holding her face in his hands as he cared for her.

“I'm sorry,” he mouths the words at her. Not wanting his mother to overhear them.

She nods in response, unable to smile as the cut on her lips stings. All things considered, she could have been in a lot worse condition if it wasn’t for Derek and her training.

She wants to kiss him, she can tell he’s looking over her shoulder at his mom. Waiting to make sure she’s not looking before he leans in a little closer.

Pressing their lips together as silently as possible, his eyes still on her’s as they did so. It’s the most tender kiss she’s ever had, “I’m okay Spence,” she said softly as he pulled back.

“I’m still sorry you were dragged into this,” holding her against his chest softly.

From where she was sitting on top of her desk, she placed her head on his chest, holding him as close as she could, his cheek resting on her head. She wrapped her legs around him, not wanting to let him go, ever.

Needing the comfort he brought her, now more than ever.

When Derek and she started training again it was mostly to help her feel safe. To know what to do if it happened again. She didn’t ever expect it to, thinking it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. That she’d learn from it and then she wouldn’t be in this situation again, being punched in the face by a man.

She started to cry, the throbbing pain in both her face and her foot taking over as the adrenaline dissipated, she was too overwhelmed to do anything more. He let her cry against him, rubbing his hand on her back as he kissed her forehead.

She couldn’t wait for him to get out of here, and she was going to leave with him.

—

Derek is the first to burst through the door. Wrapping Spencer up in the biggest hug she’s ever seen him give. Rocking Spencer back and forth in his grasp as he kissed Spencer's cheek a few times.

He pulled back, holding Spencer's face in his hands. Smiling so he didn’t cry, “they’re dropping the charges.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope,” Derek shakes his head adding, “You’re free.” Expecting Spencer to hug him again.

Instead, Spencer turns to Y/N and pulls her into a kiss. She’s startled at first, eyes wide open as Spencer’s hands find her waist and pulls her right up against him.

She can't help but settle against him. Holding his face in her hands as she kisses him back. He picks her up slightly, spinning her around with his face buried in her neck as she yelps.

Everyone in the room watching him celebrate with her in shocked silence.

He placed her back on the ground, kissing her one last time. “You did it, Spence,” she smiles at him.

“We did it.”

She hears someone clearing their throat. Both of them turning to see the Warden as well as the entire BAU team standing in her doorway. But they don’t pull apart, Spencer’s hand stays on her side as they wait to get yelled at.

“I quit,” Y/N said before he could say anything to her, “and I might sue.”

“I’m suing for sure,” Spencer added.

“We’re terribly sorry for the condition of your stay Doctor Reid. And Doctor Y/L/N, I’ll never be able to make it up to you. I’m incredibly sorry for what Wilkins did,” the warden tried to cover his ass from a bureau lawsuit.

“Too late for that,” Emily added. Stepping into the room more. “Doctor Reid will be leaving with us, now.”

“Understood,” the Warden hurried out of the room before any more damage could be done.

Everyone took a turn hugging Spencer then. A handful of them even hugging Y/N as well.

Emily wrapped Y/N up in a hug, rubbing her back the way she would all those years before. “Thank you, you have no idea what he means to us.”

“I think I do,” she laughed against her. “If that’s not weird?”

“Not at all,” she pulled back, looking at Y/N with her big beautiful eyes, her bangs pushed out of the way so she could take a good look again. “You two are good together.”

She smiled, “thanks Em.”

“We need to fill him in on everything, will you stay with Diana?” Emily asked.

“Of course, I’m just going to be packing up some things anyway,” she said as she turned to Spencer. “Have fun with your friends, honey.”

“Thanks, sugar,” he kissed her on the cheek before walking out. Everyone whistling and hollering at the boldness Dr. Reid had developed in prison.

They all filed out after him, she watched the door with a soft smile as they wandered down the hall, Spencer taking them to the break room so they could chat.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Diana’s small voice came from Spencer’s desk.

“Oh, Diana,” she smiled. “Can I give you a hug?”

Diana nodded as she walked over to her, wrapping her up in a hug, much like how Spencer would. She can imagine Spencer’s hugs once feeling like this, imagining him small and shy, holding her slightly. Unlike his more beefy, relaxed form since being in prison.

“He means the world to me too,” she says softly as Diana pulls away.

“You saved him, if he didn’t have you he might not still be my soft and sweet little Spencer,” Diana patted her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making him,” she laughed slightly. “He’s a wonderful man, I have a feeling you played a big role in that.”

Her smile was just like his. The smile of a mother, someone who was going to love him forever, maybe she’d love her too. Y/N felt a little emotional, this could be her family one day.

Chapter 8

There was a lot of information to process as she sat at the BAU round table.

Learning the entire plot of some women’s revenge against Spencer, just how much Wilkins and Lindsay were involved, the crazy scheme they planned and how terribly it would have ended if she wasn’t there.

Spencer, on the other hand, was visiting this Cat person in prison. The one who orchestrated it all, the one who was obsessed with Spencer, the love of her life, to the point she might be having his baby. He had some things to settle with her.

He was on edge before he left, going with Derek and JJ while Y/N stayed back with Diana. David Rossi had even offered to let them all stay at his guest house later that night, seeing as Spencer’s apartment was a crime scene.

Lindsay murdered Cassie, leaving her dead body on Spencer’s apartment floor. Ruining the place he was so desperate to return to.

She was a little out of it. Trying to think of everything that happened and everything she would have to do in the next few days. Compiling a list in her mind as the anxiety bubbled in her gut.

She needed a new job and a new place to live. First, she’d have to go back to Vermont to pack, and she’d have to find a way to support her boys on Parole. And Mike and Jerry.

She put her hands over her face and rested against the table. Overwhelmed with everything, her face still hurting, the lights were too much, she was tired.

Then she was crying softly.

“Hey,” Emily rubbed her back softly. “Shhh, it’s okay, what’s wrong Y/N?”

She sat up and wiped her eyes with a small laugh, embarrassed that her kinda ex-girlfriend was comforting her. “I’m stressed?” She answered, not even really sure herself.

Emily smiled while she nodded, looking so different now than she did back when they first met. Older, but in a beautiful way, gracefully becoming who she was always meant to be. “I get it, believe me.”

She remembered Derek saying she ‘died’ once. How they buried her casket and how pissed they were when they found out she was actually alive. Y/N only knew Emily re-born, as they called her.

She was always caring, always wanted to comfort and make people happy. It was the way she coped with hurting them all, but it carried on past the team. It carried on to strangers, victims, sometimes even unsub’s.

And most definitely Y/N.

There was a part of Y/N that wonders what loving Emily would have been like; if it would have felt half as good as loving Spencer. Or would it be better? She’d never really know, but she could imagine it would have been nice.

“How can we help?” Emily asked, still as wonderful as ever.

“I need a new job,” she laughed. “Can Penelope use her mad skills to find a reputable business in need of a doctor around here?”

“Are you moving back to Virginia?” She smiled at the thought.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, a smile growing on her face. “I’m kind of attached to Spencer now.”

“Good, maybe Derek can help you find a place, he has like, what 7? Right now that he’s fixing up?” Emily threw out ideas. “You’ll get the ball rolling soon, it’ll all be fine.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on him, I know you would never but, I was worried he had lost all hope and you never did. Thank you.”

Emily hugged her again, not saying anything. Y/N knew there was nothing to thank her for, this was a family. They would kill for each other if they needed to.

“Let’s go see Penelope,” Emily replied as she pulled away. Standing and extending a hand for Y/N.

The BAU offices were so interesting, many people running around to get jobs done before the end of the day as the main team chilled. It was like any other office she was in; controlled chaos and hierarchy.

Diana was sitting with Penelope in her office, flipping through a scrapbook while eating a jello cup. It made her smile to see it ran in the family.

“Hey,” Penelope cheered as she noticed them.

“I was just going to ask for some help with something, I see you’re busy,” Y/N awkwardly commented on the situation.

“Oh, we’re not,” Diana said. “I was showing her photos of Spencer. Would you like to see them?”

“I’d love to, um while I’m here, Penelope would you be willing to help me search for a good job?” She asked a lot mousier than Spencer would have if he was asking her for something.

“Of course, what are we looking for?” She wheeled to her main computer, cracking her knuckles as she got ready to look.

“Um, anyone hiring a GP close to here, I’m willing to go all the way to DC for work,” she explained. “I just want a place where I won't get punched again,” she tried to laugh at the trauma.

“The sanatarium is hiring, they’ve got good ratings and not a lot of patient complaints, they’re looking for a physician to care for the elderly members of the program,” Penelope explained as she clicked through screen after screen of info.

“That would be nice,” she smiled towards Diana. “Did you like the one you were at?”

“Oh yes,” Diana mused. “I had many friends there, I miss them and the social aspect. For a bunch of loons, I really loved the company.” She laughed at herself.

“I send the link to you,” Penelope smiled. “Now let me see his little baby bum again that one is my favourite, he’s so funny,” she leaned back in close to Diana.

All the pictures were priceless. Seeing Spencer grow up, page after page, every award and accomplishment displayed proudly. It made her miss her family, the love that a mother could bring to her life.

She got a little emotional, trying to nonchalantly wipe the tear off her cheek as she watched Diana flip a page.

“Are you okay?” She asked softly.

Y/N laughed, “yeah I just miss my mom.” She scrunched her nose so that the tears stayed in, waving her hand in front of her face as she tried to blink the tears back.

“Where is she?” An innocent question opening the floodgates.

“She had cancer,” Y/N cried softly. Not noticing as Emily and Penelope left the room. Giving them a space to bond.

“She died when I was 26,” she explained.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Diana placed her hand on Y/N’s back as she rubbed her softly. “Do you have any other family?”

“My moms are gay, well. After my mom died I stopped talking to her wife, yes she raised me but she hurt my mom too much for me to love her like a parent,” Y/N unloaded her trauma onto Diana, it must be genetic to find comfort in the Reids.

“Spencer never had a father either,” Diana related to her. “After William left it was just us, and Spencer stepped up to being the man of the house. He’s always been thrown into situations where he has no control but he needs to make the decisions. You’re probably the best person he could be with, he doesn’t have to take care of you.”

“Cause I baby him,” she laughed as she wiped stray tears off her cheeks. “He’s pretty wonderful, you did a fantastic job. Both of you did, look at the love you have. This is a perfect family.”

She gestured to the book of photos, seeing the love beaming off Diana’s face as she held a 12-year-old Spencer in her arms. Braces, on his face, thick glasses, long hair. He was adorable.

“You’re welcome to join,” Diana offered softly. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked softly.

“Why have more when you can stop at perfection,” she smiled, the same wonderful smile Spencer had.

“That he is,” she agreed. “Thank you for him.”

“Thank you, I mean it when I say you saved him,” Diana’s serious look making Y/N cry again.

“I know,” she cried. “And I’d do it again.”

In a heartbeat.

—

Rossi had 3 rooms ready for use in his guest house. Only 2 were ever used during their stay. They spent a few nights recovering together, helping Diana into a new routine for a few days while trying to just spend as much time as possible together out in the real world.

Rossi’s property was huge, never-ending even. He had lake access, ponds with ducks, fields and fields of long grass topped with flowers. It was like a dream getting to explore it together.

Happiness hit her like a freight train, smacking her in the chest and knocking the wind out of her.

She blinked and suddenly she had been waking up in Spencer’s arms for a week straight. Going on adventures together, waiting for him with a coffee outside his NA meetings, holding him all night long.

He had a hard time adjusting to a real bed again, it was too soft. He spent most of his time with his head on Y/N's chest, letting her rub his back slowly as she kissed his head, helping him drift off to sleep every single night. Causing her to fall deeper and deeper in love with him.

Every day beside him was a blessing, no longer was he a dog trapped in a cage. He was free, running with her through the fields like wild horses.

She woke up with him still snuggled into her, arm around her waist, legs tangled together, his face right in the crook of her neck. His hot breath on her skin being the thing that finally woke her up.

Absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair, eyes still closed as she woke up. Snuggling her cheek against the top of his head, causing him to pull her in tighter. Both of them slowly coming alive again.

“I love you,” her voice coarse from sleeping with her mouth open, dry as she licked her lips. It was the only thought that came to her mind. Not even realizing it was the first time she’s said it to him.

Spencer kissed her neck softly, “I love you.”

She couldn’t believe the happiness she was feeling, almost positive that even in her saddest moments she still loved him just this much. He was everything, even under all the scares and trauma, he was the most wonderful person in her whole world. And she was beyond blessed to be holding him in her arms.

The sun was barely up yet, having fallen asleep around 10 pm last night, they were up way earlier than they expected. It was so nice, the deep orange light of the morning sun creeping through the window behind the bed.

“Do you want to go watch the sun come up?” She asked softly.

“Yeah,” he nodded softly. Sitting up with her to get ready.

They put on track pants and sweaters and shoes, grabbing a few blankets and heading outside. A few minutes of walking behind Rossi’s house led them towards a beautiful little pond, they laid out 2 blankets over the dew-soaked grass before cuddling on top of it.

The birds were performing for them, the clouds were cleaning into the most beautiful morning blue sky she had ever seen. She couldn’t help herself from holding him tighter against the blanket.

The sun shined on the water, casting beautiful pinks and oranges across the surface as it stretched into the sky. A few ducks followed their mommas in the May morning breeze, quacking in agreement as they swam across the pond. Playing a game of following the leader.

It was a dream, she was sure of it. It was all too perfect to be real.

Including Spencer, he laid there softly underneath her, holding her against his chest as she appreciated the world around them. His attention only on her, even after being locked up for 3 months. He would always choose her.

“I’m so happy,” she said softly. “You make me so happy.”

He kissed her on the forehead, pushing her back against the blanket so he could kiss her whole face as she laid there. Smiling as she held his sides, letting him smother her in affection.

When he finally stops kissing her, he brushes her hair behind her ear. Cupping her face with one hand as he looks at her. The sun casting a vibrant glow on the both of them as they appreciated each other for a moment.

“I don’t know how I made it so long without you,” he finally speaks. “But I never want to do it again.”

“Move in with me?” She replied without a second thought. “I need to find a place here anyway, and I doubt you want to go back to your apartment.”

“I already asked Derek for the place he was fixing on Wilmont, it’s close to the sanatarium, mom wants to be social again,” he filled her in on his plans. “We just have to sign the lease.”

“We?” She teased him.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“Good,” she smiled as she pulled him into another kiss. “Because I love you, too.”

Spending time with Spencer was intimacy in its purest form. It was a relationship built on trust, respect, and mutual love. It was the first time in her life she felt truly in love, not mesmerized by the idea of it.

She trusted him when he said that he loved her. She believed him when held her when he talked to her about his day or the most random things his mind could conjure. When he’d just hold her, enjoying her presence without wanting anything more than just her.

Chapter 9

They arrived in Vermont early on a Saturday morning, heading to her apartment to pack everything up. It was just the two of them this time, flying in together, half asleep at the break of dawn.

Only bringing 1 bag with her essentials for the next 2 days, hoping to pack her whole life into a truck and pray it arrived in Virginia okay.

And she got to show Spencer her space. A personal side of her that he had no idea about. He knew her mind, her feelings, her trauma, but he didn’t know what her personality was really like outside of loving him.

He was surprised by the amount of stuff she had. Wandering around her apartment quietly as she started taping boxes into shape.

Rented white walls enclosed the space when she moved in, not being able to paint them or anything felt wrong to her. So she covered them in photos, artwork and posters. Bringing the space to life with a touch of colour.

Mostly neons, having an affinity for green and purple accent pieces. Not a single shade of blue to be found, getting enough of that at work over the years.

She had plants everywhere, an old record player and a million different albums spread across the living room. Her bedroom was a mess, the closet was even worse. The kitchen would be easy to pack, it was the stuff on the walls she was worried about.

“I’m probably not getting my deposit back,” she laughed as she started taking the paintings down.

“I didn’t know you went to Harvard?” He points at her medical degree on the wall as she takes it down.

“Yeah, let me guess you’re a Yale guy?” She teased him.

He scoffed, nudging her arm lightly. “CalTech and MIT actually, Yale was my safety school.”

“Mine too,” she smiled.

Spencer stood beside her and watched for a minute, “what should I do?”

“Pick an area and pack the way you would if this was your place, I trust you won't break anything.”

“Okay,” he nodded, beginning stacking all her books on the kitchen table.

They worked well together, they knew that already. She put on music, they moved around each other freely. Occasionally singing the words and dancing around to the good ones. It was a lovely day to just open the windows and clean.

Hours passed, pizzas had been ordered and destroyed, boxes filled every corner of the space as her personality was completely ripped from the room. Soon it was just them, a couch and the record player.

She got up and walked into the bedroom to change, feeling sticky and gross from the day. Not expecting Spencer to follow and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Who knew packing boxes for 7 hours would make you so sweaty,” she jokes as she peels the shirt off her back. Standing in front of him in just her sports bra.

He turns away from her, making her laugh slightly. “Spencer, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He asks as he turns back to look at her.

She nods softly, “do you want to shower with me?”

He’s speechless for a moment, staring at her with an open mouth, “yeah, yes sure.”

She can't help herself from laughing, taking his hand and pulling him into her tiny bathroom. She makes sure they both have a few towels, seeing him awkwardly stand by the door like he’s not allowed to move.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she reminded him. “Go as slow as you want.”

“I want to join you, but just to clean,” he made his decision.

“Alright, I have 3 different shampoos you can choose from,” she smiled, opening her cupboard and letting him pick. He smiled, appreciating how easily she made it a strictly business situation.

She took off her pants, watching him get undressed out of the corner of her eye. They had been much more intimate with each other already, getting naked in front of him shouldn’t have been as nerve-racking as it was.

She turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature with her foot. She took a deep breath and just took the sports bra off, freeing her boobs after a long day felt amazing, replacing the fear of Spencer seeing her for the first time. She dropped her underwear to the floor and stepped into the shower, waiting for him to do the same.

Before she knew it, he was standing in front of her, naked. She didn’t know how to act, just laughing and smiling at him. He did the same, it felt kinda crazy that they were standing in a shower, butt naked as the water pooled at their feet.

“You have to pull the thingy up,” she pointed at the bottom of the shower behind him. “It might be cold when it hits you, here pull it up and hide in the corner, like I do.”

He followed her instructions, pulling the small silver plug up to redirect the water from the tub faucet to the shower head. Cowering into the corner with her, their chests pressed together as the cold water hit his back, making him gasp as she laughed.

She wrapped her arms around him, leaning against the shower wall as she held him against her, “hi,” she whispered through her smile.

He kissed her quickly before backing up under the stream. She watched the water cover his hair, making it darker as it spread through the long locks. She watched it drip down his body softly, her eyes travelling down as it did.

He had a scar on his neck and all the bruising on his chest was long gone. His skin was so pretty, he only had a small amount of chest hair, but it was the collection of freckles all over capturing her gaze the most. She reached out and rested her hand on his chest, seeing his eyes open as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sorry,” she pulled her hand back.

“It’s okay,” he laughed slightly. “Here,” he reached behind her for the bar of soap, “if you want to touch me while I wash my hair?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. Reaching for the loofa on the tap behind him, standing directly in his space as she did so.

They switched sides, slowly turning so he would be out of the spray of the shower head. He put shampoo in his hands and rubbed it through his hair while she watched quietly for a moment.

She rubbed the bar of soap against the fabric of the loofa, watching it foam up and fill the small space with a soft cucumber scent. Running it over his chest softly as he massaged his scalp. She was so soft with him, mesmerized by how lucky she was.

He was beautiful and soft. He wasn’t big and buff like Derek, he was just a normal man with a love for chocolate donuts and jello. She ran the loofa over his tummy as she smiled, loving everything about him.

Loving every part actually while trying to avoid both eye and physical contact with specific sections of him. Not knowing if he was okay, wanting to respect his space, and appreciating that he was doing the same with her.

He laughed when she ran it along his side, ticking his armpit as he tried to wash his hair, soap dripping down onto his eyebrow. She reached up and wiped it off his face so it wouldn’t go in his eye.

“Thanks,” he smiled.

“Switch?” She said as she guided him back under the water, his eyes still closed from the fear of getting soap in them. Scrunching his face up in the cutest way.

The water cascaded over his body, washing the soap down him as she watched, her hair not even close to being wet enough to wash yet. She just wanted to watch the show, to look at all of him and appreciate the moment.

He opened his eyes once all the soap was gone, his hair longer than ever as it laid flat behind his ears, he looked so funny without a big curly mop of hair on his head, remembering he said it used to be like this at one point.

“Your turn?” He offered, taking the loofa from her and reapplying the soap to it. “Can I?”

“Of course,” she answered as he slowly ran the material over her.

He was so gentle, she watched his face as he washed over her. Biting his bottom lip in concentration as he covered her chest, arms and stomach, “um,” he tried to speak, she knew what he wanted.

She took the loofa from him and replaced it with a bar of soap, “rub it in your hands for a sec, and then use them it’s easier.”

He did just that, lathering up his hands before he placed them directly on her breasts. She let out a sigh, bordering on a moan, as he held them in his hands, massaging the soap in carefully. Thumbs rubbing over her nipples as he made sure to not miss a spot.

She was in heaven, tossing her head back against the shower wall as he ran his hands over her more. Exploring her as she leaned against the wall.

Down her stomach, past her belly button, washing her hips before dropping to his knees. Using the bar of soap once more to wash over her legs as she stared at him, amazed by the bravery he was showing.

The water getting in his eyes down there, he stood and pushed his hair back out of his face as the water dropped to the floor, “turn around?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” she replied, turning to face the wall.

He ran his soapy hands all over her back, over her shoulders and arms. Paying special attention to her butt, which made her laugh, she was only a little ticklish there.

She was covered head to toe in bubbles, Spencer looked at her with a big grin on his face as he noticed his job was done. Helping her under the water to wash all the soap off.

She lifted her arms to run the water through her hair, feeling her boobs perk up as she did so. Spencer's attention being completely switched to her chest as he watched. “Pass me the gold shampoo bottle?”

“Y-yeah,” he said, grabbing it from behind himself and handing it back to her.

She stepped into his space, pouring the soap into her hand and rubbing it in. “They say if you lather it up it’ll apply easier,” she explained her little life hack as she rubbed her hands together.

Finally running her hands back through her hair in Spencer’s personal bubble. Her boobs pressing against his chest once again. He was breathing heavier as she watched him, hoping soap didn’t make its way into her eye and ruin the moment.

When she finally stepped back to wash the soap out of her hair, Spencer followed, pressing them together once more. Holding her by the waist as she continued to get the soap out.

Once the water ran clean, she rested her hands on Spencer's shoulders. Staring at him as the water ran down her back, his eyelashes covered in water droplets as he stared into her eyes.

He was beautiful like this, just himself.

“Are we ever going to be like a real couple?” He asked softly.

“What do you mean?”

He ran his wet hands over his back as he thought about it for a moment, “I would like to be with you, more than this, but-”

“You mean sex?” She smiled softly, trying her best to not tease him. It was a serious moment, but she loved him too much to see him struggle.

“Yeah, I just don’t know how I’ll react,” he admitted.

“Honey,” she cooed, rubbing her nose against his softly. “Sex doesn’t make us a real couple, first of all. And second, we have all the time in the world, so you take it as slow as you want. We can start little by little, I don’t mind waiting.”

“How do you mean?”

She smirked at him, “have you ever masturbated in the same room as someone else?”

He swallowed sharply, shaking his head softly, “no, have you?”

“No,” she whispered. “But it’s a small step. You can sit beside me, we touch ourselves, nothing overlaps unless you want it to. Ease into it. It would be another easy way to be comfortable with your body around me.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

She reached behind herself to turn the water off, tapping the silver plug with her foot to release the pressure, and stepping out of the shower finally.

—

They dried off, getting into their pj’s before laying on the couch in her empty living room. Listening to the Hozier album that was already sitting on the player and cuddling while their hair dried. Just enjoying each other's company, he was so soft and he smelled amazing, it was so nice to have him in her space.

“Did you still want to?” Spencer cut into the moment.

It made her smile against him, lifting her head off his chest as she went to stand up. “Come on,” she took his hand, helping him to his feet.

She pulled him in close, kissing his lips softly. Only planning to kiss him once, being drawn into his mouth as his hands wrapped around her back.

She held him in return, slowly making her way into the bedroom as they stayed connected, laughing as her back smacked the door frame and then at the way he fell into her bed with her on top.

Her music softly travelled in from the living area, they kept the lights off as they stripped out of their pants and got under the covers.

“How did you want to start?” She asked, turning to face him as she laid against the pillow.

“Can we just kiss for a while?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning in.

She was laying slightly on top of him, holding his face in her hands as she kissed him. His tongue was soft, swirling with hers as they made out softly. He was very handsy, wanting to touch every single part of her once again like he didn’t get enough in the shower.

She spread her leg between his, sitting on his thigh as she rubbed against him. He bit her lip, squeezing her skin at the feeling. “I think I can do it,” he said softly.

“No,” she whispered, kissing his neck before getting off him. “I don’t want to hear I think. It’s a yes or it’s a no.”

“Okay,” he managed to bring reason back into his horny brain.

He took his shirt off, only in boxers beside her, tenting in them slightly. She took off her shirt as well, laying back against the pillow. He watched her breasts the whole time, licking his lips as he leaned on his side.

She ran a hand over her side, cupping her breast and tossing her head into the pillow more. “I’m starting without you,” she teased, her other hand slipping under the band of her underwear.

He laid on his back, bending his knees as he slipped his boxers off, she looked over at him with careful eyes. Genuinely curious about how beautiful he would look rock hard and begging for it.

She didn’t move her hand, just resting it under her underwear to entice him to start. She watched as he stroked himself softly, returning his attention to her smiling face.

She pushed her shirt and underwear off as well, scooting in closer to him so she was pressed against his side. Bending one knee so she could ghost her fingers over the folds as he watched her.

“I want to touch you,” he rushed the words out.

“Okay.”

He reached his left hand over, resting it on her hip before resting his hand on top of hers. She slipped it out from under his grasp, guiding his fingers to her clit as she stretched her legs further apart.

“Yeah, like that,” she encouraged him.

“W-would you?”

“Finish the sentence,” she instructed him. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Stroke me, I want it. Yes.”

She wrapped her fist around him, feeling his fingers swoop down to see how wet she was. “Oh,” she jerked her hips against his side, not expecting him to loop the wetness back up and rub her clit again.

He groaned as she stroked him faster, both of them staring at their own handiwork. She was fascinated with how big he was, being able to stroke up and down him so gracefully it was like she was always meant to. She licked her lips as she saw the pearl of precum drip out. Gathering it up with her thumb as she slid back down his length.

He was panting, trying to hold himself back as she kept jerking him off. Lightly touching her clit as all his attention focused on not cuming so soon.

“It’s okay honey,” she whispered in his ear.

Straddling his thigh then. His hand resting on her clit still as she ground down on him. “Is this okay?” She asked.

He nodded, “yes,” biting his lip so he didn’t explode right then and there.

He felt amazing on her, every time her hips ground down her clit rested right between his fingers perfectly to gain the perfect amount of friction back and forth.

She let herself go, bucking her hips and moaning as she stroked him with one hand. Resting the other behind her neck so he could look at her boobs perk up again, sending him so close to the edge he almost jumped out of his skin.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “C-an I?”

“Cum baby,” she gasped. Following her own instruction as she watched the cum burst from him, shooting up over her fist as she stroked him through it. Grinding against him as she whimpered, “fuck, I love you,” leaving her mouth.

Letting go of his dick as he started to whine, she dropped down against him with her face nestled into his neck.

She kissed him, over and over again. Peppering them against his skin for the best orgasm she has ever had.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his skin as he came down from the high. His chest heaving as he tried to calm down, only picking up again when she heard the sob.

“Shhh,” she whispered against his skin, letting him hold her tighter against him as he cried. “I love you, honey, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”

She felt the tears welling in her own eyes, overwhelmed with her feelings for him. “I love you so much Spencer,” she cried against his skin, the tears dripping down his neck slowly.

His hands ran over her back, they held each other while they cried.

Everything from the last week finally catching up with them both. They hadn’t taken a moment to talk about any of it, the fact he was even in prison or what happened after. They just moved on, pretending it was fine now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally.

“Me too,” he pressed his hand onto her cheek, freeing her from his neck as she sat up a little.

Both of them still gross from the sex, pressing sweaty foreheads together as they took a moment. “I’m so sorry,” she emphasized, “are you okay?”

“I’m wonderful,” he laughed at the absurdity. “I’m crying because I love you so much.”

“Really?” She laughed too.

He nodded softly. Kissing her nose as she pulled back to look at him better. “I want to touch you but,” she laughed at the mess on her hand and where she rested it on his chest. “Can we pause for one sec?” She couldn’t stop smiling.

The two of them continuing to laugh at the situation as they cleaned up in the bathroom, laughing even harder as she sat to pee like they had been married for a million years already, laughing the hardest when it came out in dribbles from all the laughing.

Going through every emotion in the book as they coped with the insanity together.

Once they were clean they crawled back into bed. Resuming almost the same position as she sat down on his lap, holding his face in her hands like she wanted to. Rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks as he pulled her in closer by her hips.

“Tell me what you’re feeling?” She whispered.

“I’m happy, you saved my life and I can’t believe I get to do this with you,” he explained softly, moving his hands on her back. He talked with his hands, not able to say anything without them moving.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known, Spencer,” she reassured him.

“Why?” He asked softly. “not in a pity party sense, I just want to know how you feel. You haven’t really told me, I’ve been waiting for you to open up, I thought maybe you were just like that because it was your job, but I want to know you more.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she bumped their noses together. “I don’t normally talk to people, even with Derek I’m really closed off. But I do trust you, and I want to, I just wanted to experience you when you’re free. I wanted to see if this overwhelming ache in my heart would dissipate as I was allowed to love you.”

She didn’t want to cry again. Blinking so the tears rolled back behind her eyes, licking her lips as her head tilted slightly. She just stared at his honey eyes, glossy and blown out. So absolutely beautiful.

“It got worse,” she laughed slightly. “I realized that now that you’re free you don’t have to see me every day, luckily you want to. But, now I think about losing you instead of keeping you safe.”

“Never,” he shook his head, face still cupped in her hands. “I’m never leaving you, you’re going to need a restraining order if you want to break up.”

She laughed, pushing the tears out, finally. Spencer kissed her cheeks, wiping the tears away with his lips. “Okay,” her voice broke as she tried not to cry anymore.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered. “You’re brave and kind, incredibly smart. You’re willing to do whatever it takes for the ones you love, you’re the only person I want to talk to every day.”

“I was going to say that about you,” she pressed their lips together finally, pushing him back against the headboard.

She laid her head on his shoulder, cuddling into him as she sat in his lap, “I have never loved anyone like this.”

“Me either,” he admitted as he pressed his cheek to her head. “Not even with Maeve, or Derek I know he told you.”

“And your mom,” she smiled. “She actually welcomed me to the family, said she always wanted a daughter. It’s nice to have a mom again.”

That broke him, he finally dropped the tuff boyfriend act he was putting up to hear her feelings, crying at his mother and the love of his life being close. She could tell he was a mamma’s boy, they had a bond Y/N wished she could have with someone. The closest she had to a Diana was Derek, as funny as that was.

She let him cry, not prying into it at all. Letting him take control of his emotions and the conversation. She ran her hands up and down his arm, soothing him softly as he held on to her.

“I was so scared,” is all Spencer says.

“I can imagine.”

“No, I mean about my mom,” he corrects her softly. “I thought the second she got her diagnosis that I ruined everything for her. She was going to forget me before I could even find a person to marry, let alone give her grandkids.

‘She was going to forget me,’ echoed in her mind as she wrapped her head around what he was saying. He was more terrified of losing his mother and missing time with her than he was about being in prison. He really put every ounce of his love into his family, it was beautiful.

“I applied to work at the sanatarium,” is how she answers. “They needed a GP and I need a job. This way I can see her every day, and you can go to work or teach or do whatever and know she’ll be okay. And old people seem nicer than cops and criminals.”

“I love you.”

She laughs, kissing his neck softly. “She’ll be okay, we’ll get her taken care of and who knows, maybe we’ll have more answers before a grandkid rolls around.”

It’s a risk, joking about having kids with him already. But she was ready for a life sentence with him, willing to stay in that god-awful prison as long as he was there. Including if he lost his case.

“You’re too good to me.”

“I try,” she smiled. “You’re pretty fantastic yourself, I didn’t just fall in love with your pretty face, sure you’re helpful and do what I say. But I love you because of what’s in here,” she ran her hand over his chest.

He just held her, silence encapsulating the room finally. The record stopped playing in the living room, no one was on the street at this time of night, the world stopped as she laid in his arms.

The Sunday morning sun was going to start coming up as she stayed up in his lap, both of them settling more against the pillow. She had no plans to get off him, he had no plans to separate from her loving embrace.

a/n: still working on an epilogue idk when it'll be done

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[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing But The Best

Author Notes: once again I apologize for how long this took to update. Schedule is still hectic and will remain so for the following month or so. But fear not. I shall continue to update at least once a week. Once again reblogs and comments are appreciated!

XVI

Our ability to survive depends on our skill to change and adapt. Everything in life is about transformation.

The drastic changes in your life seemed like a never ending avalanche of heart break and tough decisions… once again, transformation.

Your own choices placed you exactly where you were at, there was no one else to blame but yourself.

Satoru chose to remain in New York for another two weeks during which he had invested himself into re-discovering you (in his mind you never stopped being his. In the sanctuary of his thoughts you are always referred to as his wife, his one and only Mrs. Y/N Gojo. The woman of his life and owner of his heart).

Satoru tried a gentle approach with you. Not wanting to push you too far not to leave you alone all together. Using all his knowledge of your personality and preferences he slowly inserted himself in your life once again.

At 5:30am sharp he would meet you at the entrance of your building wearing his training clothes, he wanted to show you he supported you and your career. He would go for a run with you around the park. This, of course evoked memories of when you both first started dating and Satoru would show up to workout with you or take you out to dinner after training.

You got to know he had been working harder to help Yuuji control the curse inside him but it was a hard endeavor. He didn’t have to specifically verbalize it for you to know it was a loosing battle and he felt responsible for it but he was trying his best to find a way to help the boy. You missed the kids, they were like family. So you made sure to ask Satoru to tell them you missed them.

But despite your ex-husband’s best efforts you still wanted to be alone. You needed some clarity, the opportunity to sort out your feelings. Gojo wasn’t particularly thrilled with you pushing him away but he promised to you and himself that he would change and would do an effort to respect your wishes so he gave you your space.

But Satoru wasn’t stupid, he knew you missed Suguru and felt guilty for choosing your own husband (ex-husband) over your best friend.

And that’s why you kept pushing him away. Saying you needed time to think.

His time was running out, he had to return to Japan. At least for now, he had unavoidable responsibilities with his students as well as the rest of his missions. He went to your apartment the night before his flight and explained to you why he had to return but he also promised to come back to New York as soon as possible.

“It’s alright Satoru, I understand… I’m gonna be just fine” you reassured the sorcerer who didn’t look convinced at all about leaving you alone. “Please, at least answer my calls and messages. I’m gonna be worried sick if you don’t” you nodded and then he hugged you tightly, inhaling your intoxicating aroma as if he wanted to commit it to memory. His lips soon found yours and before either of you knew it you were in your bed ripping off each other’s clothes so you could express with your bodies how much exactly you would miss one another.

He had taken you for granted once, he would never make that same mistake.

-

-1 Week Later-

It had been three weeks since you last saw Suguru, he wouldn’t answer your calls, texts nor your emails. You didn’t even know if he was still in New York for that matter. Not knowing was slowly killing you, consumed by guilt you knew you deserved this treatment.

And yet, you wanted to find him and explain… try to make it up to him somehow. He didn’t deserve the pain you had inflicted upon him.

-

From: Kitten 🐱

To: Sugu

I need to talk to you, please give me a chance to explain. I don’t want to lose you Suguru. I know it’s selfish on my behalf but I can’t let you walk away without explaining. Please Suguru.

I miss you.

-

Another message sent, he wouldn’t answer your texts. At least he didn’t block your phone number. (Not yet, supplied your tortured mind)

The whole reason why you held back from actually having sex with Suguru although you both had wanted that very much during the last 6 months was because you wanted to give Geto everything. Not only half of you. He deserved someone who would chose him completely. At least that’s what you knew was right.

You didn’t want to toy with his emotions. Then again Satoru’s sporadic presence in your life didn’t help at all. Everytime he showed up you were back to the beginning.

There was no other way to explain this other than saying…you could never resist him.

-

It was a Monday evening, you just got home after your training at the academy. Sitting on the couch eating some salad when the doorbell rang. You were not expecting anyone. And most importantly someone who didn’t need to be announced by the guard downstairs. There were only two people who could show up at your door in such fashion.

When you opened the door the first thing you saw was a broad torso covered in a very familiar black fitted t-shirt. Long black hair framing a handsome face and those beautiful amber pools looking at you. Without hesitation you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Suguru responded to your embrace by surrounding your firmly in his arms lifting you a few inches from the floor.

His sweet lavender and sage scent welcomed your senses once more. It wasn’t until he dried the tears from your cheeks that you realized you had been crying.

“Yo..you are here… Suguru! I am so sorry! I-“ he stopped you by placing his right index finger upon your lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I am here because I have to tell you something important. Come Kitten, let us sit” he took your hand and guided you to the couch where as soon as you both sat next to one another you threw yourself into his arms once more making the raven haired sorcerer chuckle “I missed you too Kitten” he whispers against your h/c tresses.

“Listen…. I was angry… I was mad at you because I thought you would choose me and instead chose Satoru. But these past weeks without you, I have been a wreck to say the least and then I realized… I have always known you loved Satoru from the beginning and that never bothered me before.” Sighing he made a small pause before continuing “Granted… I do resent him for hurting you but I never expected you to completely loose your feelings for him.“ you were about to explain to him that you were trying to sort those feelings out but he interrupted you with a little kiss on your lips “let me finish Kitten” a tender smile spread across his lips making you blush again.

“I realized that I don’t want to renounce to you, I don’t want to give you up. Because there simply is no other person who I want to be with. No one can replace you. And you don’t have to choose between Satoru and me…. At least on my behalf I am ok with sharing you with him. I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want to put you in a position that only will hurt your heart.” Stroking your cheek softly Suguru leaned in and kissed your lips once more, just this time the exchange was sweeter and lasted longer. His tongue teased the entrance to your mouth before fully delving in to revel in your warmth and sweetness. Pulling back and looking into your eyes Geto assured you “I love you… and I want you to be happy. I am not going to make you choose because I don’t want to lose you Y/N”.

To say you were shocked to the core and touched beyond words was an understatement “Suguru… I don’t know what to say…” you start but Geto chuckled

“You don’t have to give me an answer right away.. I und—-“

You cut him by crushing your lips against his, kissing him throughly. Your legs straddled his waist immediately so you could feel his strong and warm body against yours. Was this man even real? I mean… Suguru Geto was a remarkable person but at this point you started questioning your own sanity. Did you make this man up in your imagination? Because you have never met someone sweeter, nor kinder nor more loving than him. And this was without counting all his very alluring physical attributes.

By the time you pulled back you were out of breath and so was he.

Now, the thing was… is this what you wanted? Did you want them both? Wasn’t it too greedy to have them both as lovers?

There was also the possibility Satoru would flat out reject the idea but… you didn’t want to choose between them. You…. Loved them both.

Before you could speak once more you ‘felt’ someone behind you stroking your back.

Almost jumping out of your skin you turned around to find Satoru in his usual jujutsu high uniform sans blindfold.

“You’re late…” Suguru comments as if he had been expecting his best friend to teleport right then.

“I know… Yaga was being a pain in the ass as per usual” added Satoru with a grin before taking a sit next to Suguru with the biggest shit eating grin you could imagine.

“So? Did she agree?” Questioned smirking and moving his hand to stroke your hair away from your neck while you still sat on Suguru’s lap.

“I am not sure… I think we broke her…” added Geto amusedly before chuckling and kissing your cheek.

“I know how to fix that!” Excitedly announced the white haired man. Cupping your face between his hands he pulled you in to kiss you deeply. His tongue voraciously licking the inside of your mouth and enticing you to kiss him back.

This was surreal…. Were you dreaming? You had to be dreaming or maybe you hit your head and now we’re in a coma. Yeah… you have to be hallucinating this.

When Satoru pulled back he laughed “Princess… don’t look so surprised… you must have known this would have happened sooner or later… Sug and I would never give you up and we know you wouldn’t pick one over the other either… and well, we didn’t want to give you the chance to pick neither…” they knew exactly how you were. Even before you knew it yourself. They just knew you would bolt and choose no one if that meant not hurting the other so they had to figure out a solution where all of you were happy.

Tags: @sleepyamaya

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#jjk #gojo x you #gojo saturo x reader #jjkgojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo angst #jujustu kaisen #jjk suguru #gojo x female reader #gojo x y/n #getou #geto x reader #geto x y/n

[ka-writes]

——————

Notes: I had already started on the second chapter before I posted the first one, so don’t expect updates every day... I also had to do a lot of googling for this chapter.

——————

Chapter 1 in case you missed it:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warnings: Cussing, needles, character conflicts, intentional poisoning, poisoning, Jaws reference

——————

“Humans are [and text here]”

Chapter 2: What is this, an interview?

Tommy was now restrained to a chair six feet away from the weird scientist alien. He had a dark brown lab coat with a fuzzy yellow sweater underneath, matched with black pants and black leather boots. His gold rimmed Harry Potter glasses slipped down his nose bridge a bit before he pushed it up and shuffled through papers. He wore a red beanie with a big whiff of his curly chocolate hair. His skin was a weird translucent grayish color with blue speckles decorating it. He had deep brown eyes with an odd electric blue circle outlining the pupil.

His tongue licked his finger as he turned the page. This was a habit that most of the weird teachers and counselors did. It always annoyed Tommy. This time fear was also mixed into that annoyance. His saliva was tinted blue and he had sharp teeth which immediately reminded him of a shark.

“You have shark teeth.” Tommy stated absentmindedly. Clearly, this caught the scientist alien off guard.

“I have what?” The alien asked, confused.

“Shark teeth.. ya know like the weird fish creatures that eat people.” Tommy started rambling causing the shark-alien to become even more confused and slightly alarmed. “I mean I think they eat people. That’s what the shark movie showed… what was its name, Jaws I think? I dunno, my foster mom freaked out in the middle of it and we went home. That lady was weird.. She made us wear itchy clothes and take weird photos before she sent me back to the group home.”

“What?..” The shark-alien asked. Tommy jumped a bit. He forgot he was rambling to a stranger. Alien stranger at that.

“Doesn’t matter.. What's the first question bitch-boy?” Tommy liked the way the alien jumped at the randomly timed insults.

“Er- right.. First off, what’s your name?” The shark-alien asked after collecting himself.

“Tommy Innit. Yours bitch-boy?” Tommy replied.

“Wilbur Soot. Stop calling me bitch-boy!” Wilbur huffed.

“Next question, bitch-boy!” Tommy emphasized the name, getting an even angrier expression in return. Wilbur’s weird blue circle flashed red for a second which caught Tommy off guard.

Wilbur took a shaky breath before asking the next question. “How old are you?”

“Old enough! I am a big man!” Tommy stated. Yet another thing that pissed him off.

“Age?” Wilbur asked, clearly irritated.

“18.” Wilbur raised a brow, “14.” Tommy huffed. His age should only be his business not some alien-bitch who didn’t even have his file.

“If you keep lying, I may have to get the truth serum from the back.” Wilbur half-heartedly threatened. Tommy, the big man that he is, did not get scared at that statement, only slightly unsettled which clearly showed on his face.

“Now, do you have a family?” Tommy tensed at the question. It was a touchy question and was not one that was asked often especially with his reputation.

“I am a big man. I don’t need a family to be great.” Tommy stated, happy with the answer. The alien-bitch shifted awkwardly.

“Right… What is your diet?”

“Umm.. I dunno, whatever I can find. I am allergic to nuts though..” Wilbur nodded in understanding and wrote things down in his notepad.

“What plants are poisonous to you?” Wilbur asked without looking up from his notes.

“Ermm, poison Ivy, poison oak… uh I think parts of rhubarb, and most wild berries. I am not sure other than that.” Wilbur nodded while adding bits to his notes.

“What was the place you lived like?” This time Wilbur glanced up to look at Tommy. This was again another touchy subject… How many times would this alien bitch get into the sad background?

“Shitty.” Tommy snapped. That was the only response the bitch was gonna get.

“Right.. Do you have music on Earth?”

Tommy scoffed, “Of course we have music, dumbass!”

“Can you tell me about the animals there?” Wilbur asked, almost hopeful.. which was weird. What was he hoping for?

“Erm I guess..” Tommy mumbled, trying to figure out where to start, “There’s a bunch of animals. Mainly on land. My favorite would be the cow.”

“What’s that?” Curiosity stained Wilbur’s face. This got Tommy excited; he was practically beaming as he started talking.

“Well they are these big ruminants that make milk and have horns. There are a bunch of types too like the highland cow, which obviously is the most poggers one. They are a Scottish breed with really long hair. I met one once, on a field trip his name was Henry.” Tommy rambled on for the next two and a half hours, jumping from topic to topic and explaining anything that wasn’t personal. He usually ended those paths with short insults.

——————

Wilbur hated to stop the kids' detailed story, but two and a half celestial hours had already passed, and Dream would be coming to check soon. Luckily, he had a couple new poisons that could pass off as a research development. He had even managed to send the distressed signal and no doubt Phil would already be there with the SBI craft ready to fly at any given moment.

“Alright Tommy.” His voice dropped to a serious tone causing the kid to stop his story of how he got poisoned by mushrooms on a camping trip. “You’re gonna have to trust me just for a bit. I am going to get you off the ship at the next stop but in the meantime I need you to tell me how allergic you’re to nuts.” The kid immediately tensed at the question.

“I am mainly allergic to tree nuts.. almonds being the worst. After a few minutes I can’t breathe properly and I usually pass out. The doctor said if I don’t get it treated within 15 minutes, death is most likely.” He took a moment to go through the information. The kid most likely has an anaphylaxis reaction to tree nuts. Meaning either he would have to know the exact time of landing and exactly where Phil was or he needed another poison that was less severe.

“Alright, here is what we’re gonna do. I have a chemical mixture that is similar to that of rattlesnake venom. I also have a chemical substance that numbs any pain you may feel. Side effects would include being very very tired and delirious over the next few days. Along with being knocked out for a good ten hours. To put it simply I am gonna fake poison you, in order to get you off the ship. It’s your choice if you’re willing to do it.” Wilbur paused to study the kid still restrained in front of him. It was odd how relaxed the kid seemed to be in a situation like this. He had no urge as far as Wilbur was aware, to fight against anything that happened. His complaints only being those that touched on personal matters. It was unsettling to say the least, and intrigued Wilbur. He really wanted to unravel the life the kid had lived before this and how he was actually dealing with the situation.

There was a long pause before the kid spoke, “I wouldn’t mind getting away from the weird smiley bitch.. plus you seem nice and to know what you’re doing so sure. Poison me bitch.” He said the last sentence with an enthusiasm Wilbur wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to rethink his plan, which was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Dream says you better have advanced in your stupid testing. Otherwise he’s gonna kick you off the ship at the next stop.” Stated the rather rude blazeling, Sapnap. The blazeling never liked Wilbur and made a point to argue against any advancements at meals. That led to Dream installing a new system of emails and Wilbur eating meals alone.

“Yea yea, it’s going!” He yelled through the metal door.

“Better be.” The blazeling snapped before making a non quiet track back to his quarters.

“Stupid blazeling.” Wilbur grumbled as he sorted through vials and picked up new needles and measured out the substances. “We are going to start with the anesthetic then move onto the poison.” He softly addressed Tommy.

Wilbur swiftly disinfected Tommy’s shoulder and gave the needle. He then gave the second needle. Immediately Tommy slumped over. Wilbur swiftly took off Tommy’s restraints and moved him on to the patient bed in the back corner of the room. After the transfer was done he clipped the body restraints around Tommy and waited for the alert signaling landing.

After about five minutes the light next to the door turned blue. He moved over to his seat and clipped on the safety belts. The light turned green and the ship shook momentarily before a thud could be felt. Quickly as Wilbur could, he emptied the needles into the waste bin and waited for his soon-to-be-ex-boss to arrive.

Dream stepped through the door and glanced around the room before heading to Wilbur for his report.

“Report.” The dreamon commanded.

“The subject's body would have gone through a painfully slow death and have multiple organ failures if I did not intervene. The chemical mixes used created a conflict in the patient’s body which resulted in the patient falling into exhaustion as they recovered.” He responded in a monotone tone. Dream looked over Tommy. He flinched back in disgust as Tommy grunted in his sleep.

“Is that all?” The dreamon questioned.

“No.” Wilbur swallowed down his panic, “This is the last testing I will be doing with this crew.” The dreamon scoffed.

“I am assuming you’re getting off at this planet?” Dream spit. Wilbur knew he absolutely hated when people left his crew as he saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.

“Yes.” The phantom stated, keeping his even tone apparent. With that Dream stormed out cursing in Siestian. Somewhere in the mess of words he told Wilbur to get his things.

Without hesitation he grabbed his bag from his quarters, which was held in a small room that branches off the lab. He half sprinted down the short hallway and straight to the bed Tommy was on. He swiftly unrestrained the human and sat him up. He slipped on boots and gloves then tied a cloak around the kid. He pulled the hood up and carried him off of the closest exit. There were faint yells from Dream down the hallway and reassurances from the only two beings that put up with him. And with that Wilbur was off to find the only craft he had ever called home. The SBI ship.

——————

Chapter 2- End

Words~ 1774

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End Notes: ‘‘twas to lazy to reread... sorry for minor mistakes. Also suggestions are always appreciated!! Please reblog...

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Chapter 3:

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Wilbur:

#my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #sapnap #dream mcyt #tommy mcyt #dream smp fanfiction #space au

[avelera]

Hi! I love going through your ADHD tag. A lot of it is so informative but I like reading your personal experiences and seeing that I'm not the only one feeling the way I am. So, thank you for putting that out there! I had a question for you regarding the diagnosis of ADHD and, please if you feel uncomfortable or don't want to answer, please feel free to just ignore this! For over 5-6 years, I've been quite sure that I have ADHD. However, in the past (and currently, actually) I haven't been in a position to seek out a therapist or get a diagnosis. I've also heard it's really expensive to get a diagnosis. Would you be okay with talking about how you found someone to talk to about a potential diagnosis and what the process of getting a diagnosis looks like? I found some stuff online but it's been pretty vague and generally along the lines of "it differs on a case-by-case basis." Thank you, again, for the tag and for all the stuff you write! <3

Hey there Anon! Happy to share my experience.

Ok, so here's the privileges I had which might mitigate the value of my advice in some situations but 1) I'm in the US (specifically, the northeast) where ADHD is taken pretty seriously and while not spoken of openly in all professional circles, getting a diagnosis in most cases doesn't run up against cultural taboos that would prevent treatment 2) I have health insurance through my job and 3) I was in a position to seek therapy when I got my diagnosis for unrelated life stuff. It was the therapist who referred me to a psychiatrist who got me meds and later I found this AMAZING psychiatrist in my area who helped me work through multiple medications until I found the right fit (however, she had a 4 month waitlist before I could work with her. Worth it! But I had an ongoing prescription during that time, I just wasn't sure it was the right one).

Gonna cut here to go into more specifics:

- I was diagnosed when I mentioned to my therapist (while pretty much shaking with fear that I would look like some kind of amphetamine addict looking for a fix or a kid looking for party drugs) that I kinda sorta maybe had ADHD destroying my life and she basically went, "Oh yeah, that's been obvious since Day 1 when you wouldn't look me in the eye while speaking." So... lol, basically you're probably not nearly as subtle as you think to a trained professional if you have it.

- When I dared to ask if she could help me get medication her response was, "Yeah, sure, here's a number, call them and tell them I sent you as a referral." It was that difficult.

- That person kinda sucked and there's a bunch of annoying bureaucracy BUT when I mentioned this to my general practitioner doctor he was like "If they suck I can hold you over with prescriptions until you find a new person." No, he did not question me. Literally no actual medically trained person I've ever spoken to has shown any concern that I might be lying or faking or whatever, they've all be scrupulously helpful and even apologetic at all the hoops.

- The first time I tried Adderall I had a near out-of-body experience with how easy life suddenly became. Fear of emails just melted away. I got a week's worth of work that had been HAUNTING me done in an afternoon. HOWEVER, that level of euphoria only happened the one time, and that's pretty universal that you'll cry with relief the first time you use it then if you don't get the right medication you will chase that high incorrectly. For me, the correct medication turned out to be extended-release, 25 mg (relatively low) generic adderall and this is after a year of the "fancier" Vyvanse that was supposed to be smoother (and it was, compared to single release adderall which made me want to chew nails I was so stressed).

- The downside with ANY single release for me though, it turned out (even relatively smooth Vyvanse) was that when I crashed at the end of the day I absolutely craved alcohol, or sugar, some kind of pick-me-up. I thought I was an alcoholic. I was legit scared by how bad I needed alcohol at the end of the day, until I switched to slow release and the cravings just melted away. I still like drinking but the craving went away once I was no longer crashing and I've been so much better since.

- My advice to people is: if your circumstances don't preclude you (financially, culturally, etc.) drop a few inquiries to psychiatrists in your area. They will not laugh at you. They will not report you. Just say you think you have ADHD and you'd like professional help seeing if your self-diagnosis is correct and getting medication if so (which is why you need a psychiatrist, not a therapist. Therapists can't necessarily get you a prescription). Every medical professional I've worked with has been enormously helpful and understanding, your brain is lying to you when it says you're going to get arrested or something for just asking. That is dumb. That is desperation-brain, not reality.

Put out a few requests so if someone is overloaded or busy you have backups. You will have to do a couple scary professional emails or calls, maybe speak to your insurance, but I PROMISE you it is worth it. The light at the end of the tunnel is you have to do this one scary thing but the reward is this thing will never be scary again after.

And it is totally, totally worth it.

#adhd

[favefandomimagines]

Soul Surfer 2

AN: if your username is crossed off, that means Tumblr couldn’t find it & wouldn’t let me tag you! since the desktop version of tumblr is saying my email doesn’t exist, i have to do all my editing & posting on my phone so if there are format issues, that’s why!

Tag list: @outerbxmalia @hockeyschmockey @allie-mcginn @prejudic3 @sexualparkour @k-k0129 @iamaunicorn4704 @milamaybank @jj-maybabe @diverrdown @sweetwatermelonsugar @alexa-playafricabytoto @aaleksmorozova @fandom-phaser @lulbabes @princessmugglecup @infinityspacesuniverse @teamnick @frankiebcanon @srirachabi @starxdame @holadrxrry @lopineapples @belledutchess @floridabornandraised @obbx-tings @x-lulu @hopelesswritingxd @darylvdixon @prettyboyspence @junkiemuppettxx @madison071 @shawnssongs @theloxersclub @99sxuxii @jeyramarie @miliefayy @rudths @y0ungandfuckingdumb @outrbank @thebendslikebendover @xealia @hotel-colson @likealotofpeople-younotsomuch

Violet was standing in front of her mirror, assessing the outfit she was going to wear to the party. Did she feel like she needed to make a good impression? Absolutely.

Though JJ has reassured her that Kiara already considered Violet her best friend.

JJ and Violet had been texting nonstop since he sent her that first text.

It gave her a sense of belonging. She had one foot in the place she felt like she needed to be.

On the Cut, John B and JJ had picked up Sarah before they went to get Violet. “Guys, my brother won’t stop talking about some new girl in town. Apparently her dad’s some really good surfer. He saw her at the country club yesterday.” Sarah told the two boys.

JJ and John B shared a look, JJ’s eyes growing wide in fear. “What? Why do you guys look like that?” Sarah asked. “That’s Violet. We met her this morning and JJ has fallen head over heels in love with her.” John B answered, earning a punch on the shoulder from JJ.

“Well, better make sure Rafe doesn’t make her his next victim.” Sarah said. “Is that where we’re going now?” She added. “Yeah, she lives in that house on the edge of the Cut.” JJ answered. “The big one? The biggest house on the south side?” John B asked. “Yeah. Her dad didn’t want to be around the stuck up Kooks. He’s pretty chill like that.” The blonde explained. “And how do you already know all of this?” Sarah asked.

“I met her dad earlier.” JJ answered simply. John B and Sarah gave each other a knowing look, both seeing how enamored he already was with the girl.

John B pulled up to the house, all three teens noticing the various surfboards leaning against the porch railing, tiki torches set up in the front and noticing Violet and Rob standing on the front porch unloading boxes.

Violet wanted to help her dad carry some last minute boxes inside before she went to the party. She lifted one off the ground but didn’t get far when JJ got out of the van and took it from her arms.

“Let me help.” He said, once he took it. “Ah, JJ! Good to see Vi hasn’t scared you away.” Rob commented. “Okay, that’s rude.” Violet said to the man. “Thanks for helping me.” She added, talking to the boy. “No problem. Oh! And I brought John B and his girlfriend Sarah.” JJ said.

“You suck at introducing people.” Sarah said, approaching the two. “Hi! I’m Sarah! Kie has told me all about you.” Sarah added, hugging the brunette. “Hi, I’m Violet. It’s really nice to meet you.” Violet replied. “Where does this box go?” JJ asked. “Oh don’t worry about that. You go enjoy your party.” Rob interjected, taking the box.

“Dad, are you sure? We can help get the last few.” Violet asked. “Yes, I’m sure. Now go.” Rob said. “And have her home by a decent time, understand?” He said to JJ. “Yes sir. You don’t have to worry about that.” JJ said. “Bye dad!” Violet called, walking with the three teens to the car.

The four talked, filling Sarah in on what she didn’t already know about Violet. This time around, JJ was more subtle as he observed Violet as she talked. How she was so genuine when she answered Sarah’s questions and never once did she look uncomfortable. She was fitting right in with JJ’s small group of friends.

They arrived at the Boneyard, Kie and Pope greeting them excitedly. “Violet! I’m so happy you came!” Kie exclaimed. Violet happily hugged the girl back and went willingly as she was pulled towards the keg.

Pope and John B followed JJ’s line of sight and both began to chuckle. “What?” JJ asked. “You got it bad, bro.” John B answered. “You’ve known her a day and you’re already changing your ways.” Pope added.

JJ rolled his eyes, not believing his friends, until some touron girl approached him. “Hey.” She greeted him with a flirtatious smile. “Bye.” JJ said quickly before leaving her alone.

Violet found it nice to be able to hang out with friends. It had been a while since she was able to do that. Back home, people were prone to only hang out with Violet because of her dad. She only really had two close friends who liked her for her. Not because her dad was a legend.

“Hey, I’m going to get another drink.” Violet told Kie and JJ before getting up from her place around the fire. Violet got to the keg and began filling her cup when a voice alerted her.

“Hey. You’re Violet, right?” The boy said. Violet looked in that direction and saw a boy about a couple years older than her and who stood at about 6’2. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s me and you are?” Violet replied. “I’m Rafe. It’s not everyday we get a celebrity here on the island.” Rafe answered. “I’m not a celebrity. And you don’t look like the kind of guy who surfs.” The brunette told him.

Rafe chuckled lightly at her comment before speaking. “And what kind of guy do I look like?” He asked. “Well, you’re wearing polo, khaki shorts that are way shorter than they should be and don’t even get me started on the hair. You’re one of those rich kids. I may be new here but I’ve been told about the Kooks.” Violet explained.

From the otherside of the beach, Sarah saw Violet talking to her brother and nudged JJ with her arm. “Go get her before the charm kicks in.” She told him.

JJ clenched his jaw when he saw Rafe talking to Violet and looking at her like she was his next meal.

“Hey, Vi.” JJ greeted her, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “This is who I told you about.” He said in a hushed tone. “That explains a lot.” Violet muttered. “She can make her own deductions, Maybank.” Rafe said. “I’m surprised you know what that word means. You know, with all the cocaine you do. Bound to kill a couple thousand brain cells.” JJ rebutted.

“Violet can decide who she wants to hang out with.” Rafe fired back. “Not if she doesn’t know when they’re complete psychopaths.” JJ said. “Okay, can we stop with this dick measuring contest?” Violet interjected. “Rafe is right. I can decide who I want to hang out with,” She started.

Rafe shot JJ an almost evil glare, acting like he won some kind of contest. “But, Rafe, that person is not you. Or anyone from your side of the island. People like the Pogues are real people. You and your friends are the complete opposite of the people I want to hang out with. I’m sorry.” Violet finished, walking away from the boy.

JJ tried to stifle a laugh as Rafe stood there completely shell shocked by the verbal diss he was just given. The blonde went to go find Violet, wanting to praise her for what she said to Rafe.

He walked down towards the water when he saw the girl sitting right before the water hit her feet. He stopped short for a few seconds, furrowing his eyebrows before going to sit next to her.

“I was wondering where you ran off to.” He told her. Violet laughed lightly, her gaze still on the breaking surf. “What are you doing here all by yourself?” JJ asked. “I don’t know, I just needed a breather from all the people.” She answered.

“Do you miss it?” He questioned, referring to her home in Oahu. “Yeah. I mean it’s only been a week since we left, but yeah. I think I’ll always miss it.” She explained. “Hopefully there’ll be something about the Outer Banks that’ll make it worth it.” JJ said. “There already is.” Violet said, looking at JJ.

JJ looked over at her, Violet giving him a wink and a smile before standing up from the sand. “Come on, Maybank. Everyone’s gonna think we snuck off to hook up.” She added, holding her hand out for him. “Hey, would that be so bad?” JJ joked as he took her hand.

Violet gave him a look that he couldn’t quite comprehend as she helped him stand up.

They stayed at the beach for a few more hours before JJ realized he had to get Violet home. Violet was surprised that JJ actually remembered what her father had told him. They said goodbye to their friends and JJ grabbed Violet’s and walked with her off the beach.

“You really didn’t have to walk me home.” The brunette told him as they walked along the road. “I wasn’t going to let you walk home alone. Especially now that Rafe Cameron has made you his next target.” He replied. “I think I can handle Rafe myself.” Violet said. “When he’s on drugs, he acts like he’s the incredible hulk or something. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” JJ said.

“Aww, are you worried about me?” Violet teased. JJ laughed along with her before nodding his head. “Yeah, believe it or not I am.” He said. “Well, I appreciate it.” She told him.

They walked up Violet’s driveway, tiki torches still lit from a few hours prior. JJ and Violet stopped at the stairs leading her to the front porch before Violet looked down at their still intertwined hands.

“Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun with you, JJ.” She told him. “Thank you for the surfing invite. I haven’t had fun like that in a long time.” He said.

The two looked at each other for a moment, Violet swearing she noticed JJ lean in so she followed his actions. But before anything could happen, the blonde boy pulled away.

“Um, I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?” He stammered letting go of her hand. Violet tried to mask the hurt on her face with a plastered on smile. “Uh, yeah, Kie invited me to go boating with you guys.” Violet answered. “Awesome, perfect, that’s great. Uh, goodnight, Violet.” JJ replied, slowly backing away from her.

“Goodnight, JJ.” Violet replied, before she watched him turn around and begin walking away. Violet swallowed the lump in her throat before going inside for the night. JJ turned back around to see if she was still standing on the porch, but was let down when he saw she wasn’t.

Leaving JJ to quietly curse at himself for not doing what he wanted to do all day.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #kiara carrera #john b routledge #pope heyward #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [03]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 5k a/n; we’re finally getting into some traction with the main plot! who are we liking more so far, w1!jk or w2!jk?? 

[02] [03] [04]-> masterpost

Instead of going to the doctor, you take a trip to the library. If Namjoon thinks your ideas are  supernatural, you’re going to find someone who believes in the supernatural. 

He calls you in the morning just to make sure you’re going to his recommended doctor.  You fabricate a lie that the doctor friend he recommended is busy so you’re going to go find another one in the meantime. Just in case Namjoon decides to ask said doctor about your current mental and physical state, you want to make sure you cover your tracks. As much as you want to give it another go and help Namjoon understand your precarious situation, you weren’t up for another possibility of rejection. 

You wanted to avoid Namjoon’s rejection so much that you’d rather turn to unconventional alternatives to finding your answer. 

Unfortunately, Tony Stark and Steven Strange do not exist in this universe, and therefore you need to turn to more practical measures. 

Seoul University has a zillion libraries, and you decide to go to the general library in the hopes you’ll find something in the subject of world-hopping. Unfortunately you haven’t been in a huge library since you were a senior in college, and the smell of paper, sad students and ink all but overwhelms you. 

You’re about to start wandering when a young voice snatches your attention. “Miss,” you feel a tug at your belt loop, and you notice a little boy looking up at you with a pout. “I lost my way after using the bathroom and I can’t find the daycare.”

A little part of you wonders who on earth could’ve let a boy no older than five out of their sights, especially in such a spacious building. Alas, you smile and offer him your hand, suggesting that the two of you look for a map. 

“Well it’s a good thing we found each other!” you say brightly, encouraging the kid to follow you to the kiosk, “I was just about to look for a map because I’m a little lost too, we can read it together.” 

The boy tells you his name is Bogum, and you respond with yours and explain that it’s okay to get lost, especially when this library is so big. He listens to you with rapt attention, wide eyes as you spell out the words “daycare” using the little paper map you brought with you from the lobby. 

Bogum and you stop in front of a plain room with a cheap powder blue baby gate, deep in the children’s section of the library. It’s there that you spot five or so children huddled over the flatscreen television, ‘oh’ and ‘ah’-ing over whatever film’s prattling on. You’re not surprised that Frozen 2 remains a sensation in both worlds. 

Bogum opens the door first, and you make eye contact with the only adult in the room. He’s lean and friendly-looking, holding a child in their lap as they sing along to “Into the Unknown”. Your heart is caught in your throat, begging to be released as your eyes widen in surprise. 

“Hobi!” you blurt instinctively, but you immediately clamp your mouth upon realizing. You really need to get used to this, but honestly how can anyone get used to this kind of situation? Hoseok will definitely be the fourth person you’ve alarmed in the past five days. 

Hoseok’s jaw drops slightly, head tilted as the rest of the mini-crew train their eyes on you. You shrink in the presence of children, knowing from experience nothing gets by them. 

“Is that your girlfriend, Hobi-ah?”

“Do you know her, Mr. Hoseok?” 

“She looks scared, what did you do?” 

The affronted man presses his lips in a thin line, “Dunno,” he answers vaguely. He seems unperturbed, hands settling in his traffic cone orange sweatpants. He gestures to the snacks in the middle of the room, releasing the children’s inner fire for food, “but it’s fruit snack time! Go ahead and grab your water from the cubbies, you can eat while you watch.” 

The babies cheer, and you smile fondly as the kids rip open their packets and giggle over Olaf. You wish you could go back to simpler times. 

“So,” Hoseok stands up, and gestures for you to sit at the small kids table in the back, “Do I know you? I don’t know if I know you, but I feel like I know you. Because you know me.” 

Deciding you need to sit down for his bombardment you squeeze your legs into the worn Fisher-Price desk, running your nails over the crayon stains and pencil shavings. “Uh, no?” 

“Did we have a class together? Hook-up? Friend’s hook-up that I tried to coerce into a threesome?” 

“Ohmygod, there are children here!” you hiss, but Hoseok just smiles plainly, offering you a bag of fruit snacks that he snagged before the children emptied his bowl. You accept the gesture, unable to make eye contact. 

Seeing the members out of their clan of seven is still jarring to you. You can’t imagine a world without the seven of them together. Like they always say, Bangtan is fate. 

“I just wanted to return Bogum,” you say, crinkling the foil bag in your grasp, “and I’m actually looking for a professor who has her office hours here. I have uh, questions on my thesis on alternate universes.” 

“Ah, are you referring to Professor Song?” you nod, “she cancelled her office hours for today, if you bothered to email her. And anyways, she doesn’t take kindly to questions on supernatural phenomena. Not since her latest book on paranormal channeling tanked.”

Your face visibly falls, dejected. You probably should’ve tried to schedule an appointment. “O-oh.” 

“But as a non-judgemental soul, I would be happy to assist you on your ‘thesis’.” Hoseok  air-quotes, noting that the kids are only in the very beginning of Frozen 2 and they have a whole hour and a half to their own devices. “And in exchange, I want to know the real reason as to why you’re looking for her, especially because you referred to me so excitedly as Hobi, and not Hoseok,” he crosses his arms, “and only my mother and sister have the right to call me that.” 

You feel like a kid sent to the time-out corner, inevitably forced to fess up. It didn’t work out as well as you hoped with Namjoon, and you feared to be disappointed when Hoseok disagreed with you as well. Of course, you can’t blame them. If Hoseok came up to you and said he came from an alternate universe, you’d run for the hills. 

But Hoseok is sweet and sincere, and he’s definitely not letting you go. In fact, he’s empathetic, already distressed from seeing you sweating and wringing the poor fruit snack packet. 

He drags over a mini chalkboard cart, poised to take notes. “C’mon, I won’t bite.” 

You frown, “Promise you won’t laugh at me until the very end?” 

“Promise.” 

Forty minutes later and in the turning point of Frozen 2, Hoseok has drawn up what looks like a convoluted flowchart detailing every single thing you’ve said up until this point. It reminds you of a child’s drawing, symbolizing all the dead-ends and turns of your life, but you’re sure Hoseok doesn’t want to hear that. 

Within the first ten minutes of your story, Hoseok is shaking his head. “That’s crazy. C’mon, prove it. If we’re really friends in an alternate universe, how much do you know about me?” 

Hoseok's face falls farther and farther into his lap as you respond with a straight face. His birthday, favorite foods, hobbies, music taste, and even feelings towards melodramatic movies are laid out in your words like a personal diary. 

He crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes. “Tell a secret that you know about me.” 

That stumps you. You make a face, stuffing a strawberry gummy in your mouth as you think about any conversation you could’ve possibly had with Hoseok in the past year. There’s a possibility that whatever happened to Hoseok in your world hasn’t happened in this one, but you have to at least try. 

With as much confidence as you can muster you say, “When you were in the 3rd grade, your older sister was playing with sticks in your backyard and accidentally stabbed you.” 

He narrows his carmine eyes, “Where?” 

“Left breast,” you chirp, “under the nipple.” 

Hoseok’s face twists like he’s in the 8th dimension, and he clutches his left breast comically. “You’re either psychic or telling the truth,” he marvels, nearly cracking the bud of chalk in his fingertips. 

You fight the urge to sigh in relief, running a hand through your hair. You can’t believe that actually worked. 

“Okay so obviously because I need to know my alter-self, what’s Jung Hoseok like in World One?” 

“World One?” you snort. 

“Yeah, since it’s your home world. This is World Two, because this is your second reality.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing, waving his hands in the air. 

“You’re a rapper and incredible dancer in the world’s top boy band.” and Hoseok doesn’t know whether to think you’re an impeccable actor or really telling the truth by the way you smile so tenderly. “And you managed to get your mom the barbeque restaurant she always wanted. Best place for pork belly wraps.”  

And because you know he’s a softie for his mother, you already have a tissue stretched out for him, confirming that you have him convinced. Seeing it all laid out terrifies him, not because he’s scared of someone infiltrating his reality, but because you’re lost. You’re lost and you can’t go home and he can feel like he’s known you all this time. Not because you know every single fact about him under the sun, but something tells him you were meant to find him today. 

“So, you got hit by a truck in World One, and end up in World Two just like that?” you nod again, and Hoseok starts to line up whatever code he’s created on the blackboard. “What were you doing before that?” 

“I went drinking with my friend Sehlyung.” 

“Uh-huh, and before that?” 

“Got into a fight with the guy I love.” 

“Oh, sorry.” 

“Even worse, he ended up being the first person I met once I entered your world.” 

Hoseok blinks, “That’s gotta count for something, right?” 

Your face sours, “Impossible. Jungkook didn’t recognize me either.” 

“Anything else happened that day? Perhaps something to do with the both of you? It can’t just be coincidence,” Hoseok insists, and you almost see the potential theories looming over his head. 

Wishing you bought some aspirin on your way, you pinch your brows together. You’ve recollected that night one too many times that it’s been starting to overwhelm you. You hate thinking back to how harshly Jungkook rejected you. How much his words pierced you clean like you were soft and breakable. The twist in the knife was seeing him again in this world, only for him to reject you again for an entirely different reason. 

“Wait,” you bite your lip, the final memory from your last conversation with Jungkook resurfacing. 

“Maybe in another world, we’d work out. But not this one.”

“He said maybe we’d be together in another world,” you say slowly, the words sinking in your form like a key to a lock. 

Hoseok snaps his fingers, a huge white grin beaming on his face. “Shit, this is straight out of the Twilight Zone or something. Cool!” 

It’s then that the credits roll for Frozen 2, and the children are pouncing on him like leeches to a sweet treat. They laugh and beg for his attention, teasing him because he said the s-word. 

“I’m sure this Jungkook kid has something to do with why you’re here—ow, Haneul! My hair is precious!” Hoseok is busy fending off kids and trying to continue your conversation. He gets up from the tiny chair to prevent them from reaching, and you follow suit. “In the meantime,” he reaches for your phone, typing something, “here’s some books Professor Song recommended to me when I was fascinated in alternate universes. Maybe they’ll help, I don’t know. But good luck, update me when you get a chance! I work here most days.” 

“Thanks Hoseok,” and before you can second guess yourself, you find space between the children to wrap your arms around him. Thankfully, he doesn’t push you away, and hugs you back just as tightly. You can’t help it, and bury your face into his shoulder, trying to conceal your sobs. He even smells like World One Hoseok. You miss them. 

The rest of your afternoon is spent in the library, searching for book after book regarding the supernatural and other phenomena. A little part of you hoped Hoseok would join you in your navigation, but he had a job and you had yours. He already offered you an ear and much, much more. 

You feel a little stir-crazy, despite the fact that these books could contain important information, only Jungkook’s words seem to register in your brain. 

“Maybe in another world, we’d work out. But not this one.”

You groan, stretching out your back so you could reach the final book out of Hoseok’s recommendations. You blush when your joints complain about your lack of exercise and sudden exertion of physical activity. This last one just so happens to be on the highest possible shelf. There’s really no need to have more than five books on supernatural phenomena, but you’re already here and it’s vermillion red cover is taunting you like a bull to its matador. 

Fuck it. Making sure no librarians are watching, you hop on the first shelf, heels dangling in the air. You could climb trees like it was nothing when you’re a child, but ten years later you can feel all the joints in your body protest at the sudden bout of athleticism. 

Alas, even with the added height you can barely reach the top, fingers brushing over the hardcover. You’re starting to sweat with nerves, thankful for the whirring of the icy air conditioner. With a sigh you attempt to climb on the next highest shelf, until the familiar smell of detergent and florals invades your personal space. Even his scent is the same. 

“Y’know, there’s a help desk for a reason.” 

Your shoulders slump as Jungkook wordlessly instructs you to get down from the shelf. You feel the warmth of his palm shadow your back, not touching you but prepared to in the event you slip and fall. With a cross of your arms, you hug your books to your chest, refusing to make eye contact as he retrieves the book for you. Call it being petty, or overly defensive because of past events, but you’re not ready to talk to Jungkook right now. 

Conversely, Jungkook is piqued. He’s lived here for the past six years and it’s the first time he’s seen you in this library. Twice in the span of two weeks is definitely something worth noting, especially when his new co-worker just so happens to be friends with you. 

In fact he’s excited, curious. He just entered the library, dropping off some proofs for his graduate school’s office when he spotted you in the corner of one of the shelves, determined. Something warm and light brings a smile to his face when he sees how endearing you look trying to get that too-high book. Despite the fact that he’s still on the fence about your sanity, he wants to make sure you don’t almost-die a second time from head injury. 

“Here ya go,” He easily grabs the book and Jungkook is prepared to plop the book in your pile, but you’re hugging the others so tightly that he has to wedge it between two other ones. 

You press your lips together as Jungkook goes into your personal space, miffed that you’re being a little defensive. After all, you’re embarrassed from the last time you saw him and you’re heart is beating wildly, confused over the man in front of you. It takes a wiggle before you concede, letting him tuck the red novel between two other larger books. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, nodding at him once before swiftly turning the corner, skirt swishing. 

The smile on his face is wiped clean when you don’t even bother to spare him a little eye contact. 

“Hey, wait up!” he exclaims, and he’s immediately shh’ed by at least five students and an angry librarian. He deflates, giving sheepish bows as he walk-runs after you. 

He feels like the tables have turned, now he’s the one chasing after you. Should he apologize for leaving you on the sidewalk two weeks ago? Should he offer to hold your books, or drive you home? Maybe not drive you home, because he brought his bike today and he fears that you may be traumatized by the fact that you almost ate pavement under his wheels. If he has to ease into it, maybe he could offer his phone number up as compensation for accidentally almost-killing you? Suggest that his number is for you to contact him as an IOU. Smooth. 

You look over your shoulder briefly, suppressing a groan as Jungkook makes it painfully obvious that this is not the end of your interaction. He’s boring into you, looking past you and his eyes are dark with information. As much as you want to know what’s going on in his mind, seeing Hoseok and Jungkook within the same hour is wholly overwhelming, especially when you just laid your whole life story out to Hoseok in a daycare. 

He’s now staring holes in your back as you hand over your books and work identification to the unsuspecting librarian, who chalks up your awkwardness between two friends toeing around a relationship. To the unsuspecting eye, it’s not out of the ordinary. You can’t just tell Jungkook to “kindly fuck off because I’m still processing your existence” because he’s really done nothing wrong. Inevitable, you let him heat your skin with his imploring eyes until he starts to squirm like a garden snake. He’s waiting for you, silently begging you to turn your head and acknowledge how hard his brain is working right now. This boy is always after attention. 

Finally, you spare him. “Yes?” you say softly, keeping your focus on the bookkeeper checking you out as Jungkook hovers over your form. 

“Uh,” he scratches his head, searching for words, “are you hurt? Y’know, from the other day?” 

“Judging from the way I was prepared to climb the shelves, no,” you stuff the books in your tote bag, “are you hurt?” 

“Uh, no.” 

“Okay. That’s good.” You brush past him, making it a blatant point to stride out the first door you see. 

Even with all the telltale signs, Jungkook continues to feel something. An urge, a bell, something. He doesn’t know what, but he’s compelled to follow you. For a small thing you sure know how to walk, and he has to pump his legs a little to catch up with your speedy form. 

He follows you to the middle of the campus courtyard, where students are lounging about and studying or playing football. It’s already starting to turn dark, and the orange sky sits impatiently on your bodies as you try to walk as fast as possible to your apartment. 

“Hey—hey, c’mon!” his long legs manage to get close enough to you, but he has to halt as soon as you stop, whipping around to glare at him. 

Jungkook stumbles as you’re centimeters away from him, visibly annoyed. You’re super close, impossibly close to him. He holds his breath, fearing he’d fan your face and you wouldn’t appreciate his chicken-salad breath. He doesn’t understand why you’re upset, but he wants to jab a thumb between your brows and even out the adorable expression that pinches your visage. 

“What, do you need something from a stranger?” you bite icily, and he doesn’t understand the pang in his chest when you refer to each other as strangers. It’s true, you are, but you don’t have to be so harsh about it. 

“I, I just want to know why you knew my name,” he replies weakly, hands going up as if he committed a crime. “Back then, I’ve been confused ever since,” it’s wholly innocent, and genuine, “I just wanted to know if you’re okay, I guess?” 

It’s then you soften, melting like the yolk in the sky. The strap of your bag digs in your palm, the leather probably indenting your skin. 

“I got really drunk last night,” you concede, and at the very least it’s the truth, “probably woke up drunk too. I stumbled outside and when I saw you, and mistook you for another Jungkook I know.” 

You’re pulling this excuse out of your ass, and you hope that someone watching you from above (or below) will give you a reprieve on this one. He seems to believe this notion, probably used to one too many drunk girls fawning over him half-sane. 

“Another Jungkook?” he balks, mouth parting like a baby kitten, “a Jungkook with the same name and face?” 

“Uh kinda, like Mario and Wario?” you say, and you know Jungkook will get the reference if he remains a video game lover, “what’s that called, doppelgangers?” 

“I’m partial to Luigi and Waluigi, but I get it.” he replies with a small smile, proud to have gotten you to open up, even a little. “That’s cool. I’m sorry for freaking out back there.” 

“Understandable,” you look at the grass crunching at your feet. You definitely understood, but it still hurt recollecting the way he pushed you off of him like a bug. “I’m sorry for mistaking you, I just kinda stumbled out of an apartment and got walking, I thought I was in a dream or something.” 

“So uh, where’s this other Jungkook?” and it’s an innocent enough question, and he’s almost boyish about it, rocking back and forth with his hands in his jeans. ��I’ve always wanted to meet my own twin, I just didn’t expect them living in Korea and having the same name. That’s like a two for one deal!” 

You wince, avoiding the way Jungkook tries to bend down to match your eyes. “He’s uh, not around anymore. Completely gone,” you mutter. 

Completely gone? Did that mean the person you were worrying about on the streets, the person who you worried over so thoughtfully in place of Jungkook, is dead? 

Jungkook puffs out a breath of air, running a hand through his hair. Boy, does he feel like a piece of shit for bringing up tough memories. “I’m so sorry,” he gushes, voice cracking as he tries to get you to lift your head, “I was just being nosy, alright? The fact that you knew my name freaked me out and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And when I saw you in the library I pounced but I realize that this is such a huge mistake and—”

“Jungkook,” you hold up a hand, a twinge of a smile barely grazing your lips, “I already told you, it’s understandable you would’ve been freaked out. Don’t blame yourself,” you size him up a little, looking up and down and he automatically straightens his back. He feels his ears heat beneath his hair, “but you look like the type of guy to be too hard on himself.”

He laughs, nodding profusely, “So I’ve been told.” Feeling lighter at the assurance of your feelings, he sticks out his hand, “then can we call a truce?” 

It’s then you see it. 

“Tiger lilies,” you marvel, hands reaching out instinctively to touch the tattoo adorning his arm. It’s the same design, same position, the dark ink vibrant as ever. 

“It’s my birth flower,” he puffs out his chest a bit, feeling elated that someone appreciates the fine art he spent weeks drafting. Tattoos aren’t particularly popular in this area, so he can’t help but feel a little cheeky that someone’s attracted to them. He watches the way your eyes sparkle over the black ink, the most positive emotion he’s gotten out of you since meeting. “Tiger lilies, they mean—”

“Please love me,” you finish, letting go of his arms so it drops to his side. You finally look up at him, and your eyes prick. 

He looks so much like him, it hurts. Seeing Hoseok and Namjoon also pained you considerably, but nothing compared to how much it ached to have Jungkook around, vying for your attention. How well you knew his body, and how much you wish you could hug him. Today he’s even dressed a little similarly to how you’re used to, soft and comfortable in black sweats and a Carhartt hoodie. But this Jungkook isn’t scarred by the industry, and it fills the curiosity that plagued you for days on end. Your Jungkook is always vibrant, but the one in front of you is radiant. He’s young, eager, and ready to take on the world. 

Jungkook grins, impressed by your knowledge. He wonders about your birth flower, and whether you have it tattooed somewhere on your body. “Is that your birth flower too?” he asks, debating on whether or not it’s too late to ask you out for coffee because evening is approaching. Maybe dinner was more appropriate? But it would be like a date? Maybe pizza or McDonalds to keep it casual? 

You see the gears turning in his head, and you feel like you’ve wasted too much time thinking. “Ah, no,” you flounder, rapidly shaking your head, “just some random information I’ve picked up.” 

“Are you into flower meanings?” he tilts his head. 

“Not particularly,” you say ominously, and you try not to ache when he seems disheartened at your lack of elaboration, “but I will be. I’ll see you around, Jungkook.” 

You can tell he has more to say, especially because Jungkook is one to finish what he starts. But you can’t give him that satisfaction now, not when you’re onto something. You spare him a wave over your shoulder, not wanting to see the disappointment in his face when you leave him in the dust for a second time. 

And with that unpromised promise, you go back into the direction of your apartment. You have some extensive research to do tonight. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1.

Jungkook wakes up to the sun, and he bolts up in his bed. 

“Hey!” he yells to no one in particular, knowing his voice is loud enough to echo throughout the dorm. “Why did no one call me? We had practice!” 

Instead of passing out in the studio he’s wrapped up in his sheets, bundled comfortably as if he’s been in bed for hours. He’s almost disoriented, looking around the room and waiting for someone to barge in and tell him to hurry up and get somewhere. 

After working on his music, the seven of them were supposed to meet up. The plan was to take a nap from ten to eleven, and be at the studio to go over some modifications to a new setlist. However, those plans evidently did not go through, because he had a full night’s sleep for the first time in weeks and that only happens if there’s a schedule cancellation or vacation. 

He feels particularly antsy because he couldn’t work on anything last night. His mind was like tunnel vision, completely filled by visions of you and last night’s fight. It’s frustrating, especially when there’s so much he’s behind on already. 

But today’s a new day. He takes his time in his room, popping out all his joints and doing leg and arm stretches on his mattress. For once, no one’s ushering him away to do the nth task. He mindlessly scrolls his phone, taking note of the insistence for him to return to social media but pins it away for yet another promise of next time. 

Mindlessly clicking his phone button on and off, his wallpaper shows a picture of your back facing the sunset. An old, innocent picture that could be mistaken for a random shot Jungkook stole on an empty night in Dongdaemun. With a sigh he throws his phone somewhere between the sheets, rubbing his eyes. There’s nothing he can do now but move forward, and he takes that in stride. 

But when he walks out of his room, the air feels terse. It’s strange, as if he could cut through the tension in the room with a butterknife. 

He looks on in confusion to see all the other members settled in the living room, hovered over their phones. They’re all still in their clothes from last night as well, grave expressions on their faces. 

Someone’s choked sobs are echoing from a corner of the room, and Jungkook is worried when he sees Taehyung sobbing in Hoseok’s arms. 

“What happened?” he asks, brows knitting together as he walks over to Namjoon, looking over his phone. 

Namjoon immediately presses his phone to his chest, concealing whatever is on the screen. Jungkook’s heart pangs at his block, because Namjoon isn’t one to hide things.  He’s feeling cut out of a secret so deep that it must be either a secret, or something he shouldn’t see. “It’s,” he takes a deep breath, and Jungkook feels it. He feels that whatever Namjoon has to say is going to be hard. 

Seokjin speaks up for the leader, bright eyes that always spark like fireworks now dim. “We got a call from Sehlyung early this morning. Before it got light out she—she was frantic. She said Camille wasn’t answering her calls after they went drinking.” 

No. No. 

“Then BigHit got a call from the hospital. They said a truck hit the curb, knocking her clean,” it doesn’t even sound like Seokjin’s speaking, just the shell of him, regurgitating information. “She’s alive, but it’s critical, no one’s allowed to see her until she’s stable. We don’t know when,” Seokjin bites his lip, choosing his words carefully, “or if, she’ll wake up.” 

Jungkook doesn’t even register that he’s crying until Seokjin pulls him into his arms. 

#jungkook fic #bts fic #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios

[myraelvira]

Where Is Robert Sands?

Robert Lewis (or Louis) Sands was born sometime around 1926. He is described as having been around 5’8” to 5’10” and anywhere from 150 to 200 pounds. He had brown hair, though his eye color and other details are not listed on his profile on namus. His case is the oldest one listed in the state of Tennessee on the website.

Robert went missing around August 24th, 1960 from Friendship, Tennessee. At the time, he was 34 years old. On namus,  the date of last known contact is stated as also being unknown, so it seems that the August 24th date is more approximate than accurate. It also states that his mother lost contact with him in the early 60’s. There are not any comparisons to his case on namus.

The circumstances of his disappearance are unknown. A google search for any information on him is even harder. The only real post I came across on the internet about him, was a facebook post by  the ‘Tennessee Missing and Unsolved’, which went a bit more into his background.

It states:

“Robert Sands is the oldest missing person's case listed on Namus for the state of Tennessee.

Some of you may recall that we shared his story on here in October, 2017. That post stayed pretty quiet until August 2018, when we were contacted by a lady saying that she was looking for her Grandfather by the same name and similar timeline.

After comparing pictures and birth certificates of both Daughters, it was determined that these two women were without a doubt looking for the same man. Neither of them knew a whole lot about Robert as he had left both of them while they were very young and neither were left with anyone to really tell them much about him.

It was decided that both of these sweet Ladies would do Ancestry DNA in hopes of finding more family members that could help provide answers as to what happened to their Father. The results shocked us all! We learned that their DNA did not match. They both went on to find that neither of them was biological daughters of Robert Sands.

Yes, Robert Sands was married to both of their Mothers and not only was he listed on both birth certificates, they both have pictures of Robert Sands.

Unfortunately, this also means that the DNA namus has on file for Mr. Robert Sands is not accurate. Yes, the case manager has now been notified.

Though his Daughters are not biological children of his, they both wish to learn about who he was and what happened to him. He was the only daddy either knew.

We have learned a few details about his life prior to his disappearance, I am hoping that something here will "ring a bell" with someone that may have known him.

Robert Sands had lived in Utah where he was married to Karen Sands, their daughter was born in 1956. Robert and Karen separated, that is when Robert left Utah for good. Their Daughter's birth certificate has his name spelled "Robert Louis Sands". According to the information he provided, he was born in Los Angeles, California. His age is listed as 29 years old, and his profession on there was listed as a cook. Karen Sands was later murdered in Salt Lake City, Utah while she was 8 months pregnant by her boyfriend. Nobody knows if Robert ever received the news of Karen's death as he never returned for his daughter.

In 1957 Robert Sands married Lavenia Sue Weeks, their daughter was born in 1958 at St. Mary's hospital for women, in Madison, Wisconsin. When they separated Lavenia later moved to TN with their daughter. The daughter does recall Robert coming to visit and her Mother acting as if she was fearful that Robert would take her away. The last visit the daughter remembers ended with her being sent to her room while Robert and Lavenia had what seemed to her as a serious conversation. The last visit would have occurred in the early 60's, the daughter never saw Robert again. Lavenia eventually made a post in the newspaper that ran around 6 weeks so that she could obtain a divorce from Robert Sands. This same Daughter continued to ask questions and look for her father for years. Her Maternal Grandmother told her that her daddy always loved her very much. Lavenia was not supportive of the Daughter's search for answers but she never told her that Robert was not her Father. Lavenia did once tell their daughter that Robert Sands was not his real name, she said that she could not recall his real name because it was very hard to pronounce, whether this is true or not is unknown.

The Daughter of Lavenia and Robert would go on searching for answers. She contacted the Crockett Co Sheriff's Office in TN, to have him officially reported missing. Robert was entered into Namus and a DNA sample from this daughter was collected. The Crockett County Sheriff's Office told her this year that Robert was never officially entered as missing. She also went to the Social Security Office in hopes of finding information, they wouldn't give her much to go on but they did say that his social had not been used for work since the 60's.

The known places of work for Robert Sands are as follows. "The Hoffman Brothers" which was either located in Madison Wisconsin or Rockford Illinois. "The Madison Club" located in Madison Wisconsin, which is where the picture in the chef hat with the cake was took. "The Holiday Inn" in Memphis, TN.

Over the years many thoughts have come to mind.

Could Robert Sands have had ties to the Mob? A daughter recalls a vague memory of being told that their phone was tapped among other things. The other daughter says her Grandmother referred to him as a horse thief.

Could Robert Sands have been in service? The daughter was told that he was going blind from a war injury. It is unknown if this was just an answer given by her Grandmother to help ease her after his disappearance.

Did he know neither Daughter was biologically his? They both have pictures of them holding them and appearing to be a happy Father but one does have to question the chances of the same man unknowingly marrying two pregnant women within such a short period of time.

The only thing certain at this point is that both Daughters still want answers about Robert's identity and disappearance.

Can you help solve this mystery? If you have any knowledge of Robert Sands, please reach out and let us know.

We can be contacted here Tennessee Missing and Unsolved. You may also reach us by email at [email protected]. If you prefer to call or text we are available anytime at 615-556-0534. “

Beyond that, there is next to no information on Robert Sands.  I did my own investigating, and at first didn’t seem to come across anything. I looked on family search for any sort of census records, but I wasn’t sure if all of the people named ‘Robert Sands’ that popped up were him. So I went over to my favorite website, Find a Grave. There, I looked up people named Robert Sands, and came across over 300 results. Having read the facebook post, I thought about how his social security number hadn’t been used since the 60’s. So I checked for every Robert Sands that would have died in America, sometime in the 60’s, and really only had a few results. Even still, I was unsure.

The facebook post had three interesting points that I wanted to search upon. First, was the fact that he potentially had a war injury, as one of the girls’ grandmother stated that he was going blind. This may have actually been true, because if Robert had been 34 years old at the time of his disappearance, then he would have been born in 1926. If this was true, then that would mean he very likely fought in WWII. Having had grandparents born in that 20’s that fought in the war, it doesn’t seem unlikely at all.

The second point that I wanted to look into, was the fact that his name, or rather his real name, was described as having been hard to pronounce. One of the things that I thought of when first reading the case, was that perhaps he changed his name. Perhaps, “Robert Sands” was an Americanized version of some sort of European name. I once again speak from experience, having had ancestors that changed their Polish last name to something way more easy to pronounce. I figured perhaps he had a very Slavic or even Italian name.

Third, I wanted to look up any sort of information on his first wife that died. The post on facebook stated that Karen Sands died not long after her relationship with Robert. I was curious if there was any information or news articles on her supposed murder.

While doing my investigating, I wanted to leave no stone unturned, of course. I wanted to look up as many “Robert Sand”s from that time period as I could. Just to make sure that he did or did not keep that name for the rest of his life. I was assuming that any public information about him, would of course be from before the 60’s, probably from the 40’s at best since the US Census doesn’t release census records until over 70 years later (which is incredibly unhelpful for missing persons cases).

While looking on family search, I came across a “Robert Clyde Sands” that had allegedly died in 1964. He was buried in Lynnville, TN, at the Lynnville Cemetery. The little snippet stated that he was born on October 2nd, 1926 and had died on June 2nd, 1964. The small bio stated that there was information listed about this person on find a grave, though when I clicked the link, it stated that the profile had been deleted. I am unsure why, and not sure if maybe this was even a real person.

I then searched for any Robert that would have died between 1960-1969, seeing that his social security number hadn’t been used since the 60’s. There was a listing for a Robert Sands that passed away in a California death index, though it doesn’t state how he died. Just that it was on September 25th, 1965. It is unknown how old this Robert was either. There was a similar California listing with a Robert Sands that died on December 10th, 1964. There were multiple Robert Sands that died in the 60’s, though I didn’t always get a birth year. It is hard to delineate who was who because one person could have been 25, and another 55.

When I looked on find a grave, I came across two Robert Sands that died in the 60’s, who I thought were of interest. One was Robert Sands that passed away on September 25th, 1965. I assume this must be the same Robert that was listed in that California death index. Robert was born in 1919 though, so the age doesn’t really match up. He was a corporal in the military, during WWII, and had been married to a woman named Virginia Sands, who has also passed away. Even though close, because of the military affiliation, I didn’t think he was it.

The second Robert Sands on find a grave was one born on April 28th, 1924. He died at the age of 38 on November 25th, 1962. This Robert was buried in Athens County Memory Gardens in Ohio. He also served in the military during WWII, and was a Tec 4 (a now defunct rank) in the 216 Medical Battalion. Even though this Robert has his parents and a child linked to his find a grave profile, there is no spouse listed. I am unsure if this would be the right Robert.

I looked up Robert's first wife, Karen Sands on find a grave. She was one of the first results to pop up.   Karen had been born on December 20th, 1933 in Salt Late City, Utah. She died on March 11th, 1959 in Marray, Utah, from shock and internal hemorrhage during childbirth. Unlike the facebook post that stated she was murdered for some reason, Karen died in the hospital, and the child was stillborn. He was buried with Karen in the same coffin.

Interestingly, Karen’s bio on find a grave lists Robert Sands as having been her husband. And in quotations next to his name, it states (aka Louis Rogato).

Taking this lead, I typed in ‘Louis Rogato’ into find a grave. There was only 1 entry. The man named Louis J. Rogato was born on July 1st, 1926. He died on January 2nd, 2017 at the age of 90. He is buried at Delano Cemetery in Delano, Minnesota. There are no relatives listed in his profile. No description in his bio. The one and only picture of his grave states that he was in the Army during WWII.

I went back to family search, and tried to find anything with the Louis Rogato name. When I entered in the birth year of 1926, almost all of the results seemed to be of the same person. There was information about his military history, that stated he had been born in Alabama, completed 4 years of high school, was a private first class in the army, and served in the medical department. The ‘event place’ happened in Ft. Lewis, Washington, and he was enlisted for the ‘Hawaiian Department’. Interestingly, this record also states that he was married at the time. This marriage is what I assume to be to a person named ‘Billie Louise Keller’, where it is stated that they got married on December 2nd, 1944. At some point, the two divorced, as Billie’s family tree shows another husband, and Louis Rogato’s shows more wives in his records.

In the marriage license to Billie, it states that both the bride and groom were 20 years old, in 1944. So Louis’ birth date would really be 1924. The certificate also stated that his father was from Italy, which confirms the Italian last name, which may have been hard to pronounce for some people back then. If he wasn’t lying back then too.

Louis Rogato married multiple times, with a divorce record from November 2nd, 1970 stating that he had split up with his ex wife Arlene R Lindstrom. Arlene seemed to be quite younger than him, as she was born in 1940, and 30 at the time of the divorce, while Louis was 44 years old. Unfortunately, this record does not state when the marriage initially took place and how long it lasted.

There is another marriage record that states that Louis married a woman named Pearl Marie Brown in 1948, in Thurston, Washington. The marriage is dated as January 17th, 1948. It is unknown how long this marriage lasted, and when it ended in divorce.

One divorce in particular that I find perplexing, is one from January 12th, 1971. This records states that Louis had been married to a Rosemarie Sands, who had been born in 1933. Even though his age is estimated to have been 41 at the time, I think that this is a piece of information that we can’t ignore. If this woman was named “Rosemarie Sands”, perhaps this is the ‘Robert Sands’ that we’re looking for? Now, a similar record states that Rosemarie Sands died on March 1st, 2001. But when I searched for her on find a grave, I couldn’t find her. I’m unsure if she took another name later on in life.

According to records, on July 2nd, 1971, Louis got married to a Suzanne M Weiland. She was 24 years old at the time, having been born in 1947. This would have made him about 45. The two were married in Ramsey, Minnesota.

Beyond this, there is no other information that I can find about Robert Sands or Louis Rogato. Personally, I think that these two people were the same person, even more so that despite Rogato’s death in 2017, there is no obituary for him. At least, no one that I can find online. His multiple marriages as Louis Rogato alone reminds me a lot of Donald Lee Laisure. I’m not sure why some people turn into serial daters, but Rogato was one of them. What is most interesting and slightly disturbing to me, is how Rogato would constantly get married to girls a lot younger than him.

Karen and Rosemarie Sands were born in 1933. This would have made Robert/Rogato 7 years older than them. Arlene Lindstrom was born in 1940. Rogato would have been 14 years older than her. Suzanne was born in 1947. Rogato was 21 years older than her.

Despite all of the marriage information, and even proof of death through his find a grave, there is not one picture of Louis Rogato. There is no obituary. This prompts me to think that he was a person that did not want to be found. It might sound crazy that an elderly person at the ago of 90 was still potentially avoiding people. But you never know. There is so much that we don’t know, that we can only leave things up to speculation.

If Robert Sands was Louis Rogato, then why did he leave his children behind? What prompted him to get married to two women that didn’t even have his children? Though anecdotal, I think a part of it was because of our culture at the time. It was extremely bad for a woman to have a child out of wedlock. I don’t know anything about Karen Sands’ character, and I don’t want to detract from it. But maybe she got pregnant by another man and married Robert to essentially save face. According to her obituary, she was a mormon, which are well known for strict traditional practices. As to why both daughters had the surname by him, if I understand correctly, during the midcentury when a woman married another man, the children would take the last name of the step father. I am only speaking from what I have read, and an example of this would actually be Joe Walsh of the Eagles, whose mother did the same thing after his biological father passed away.

Some people might be wondering what Robert Sands was running from. What did he leave for? Well, if he was really Louis Rogato, perhaps he got bored. It seems that he constantly went from relationship to relationship, and couldn’t ever settle down. Perhaps he had a few children along the way, and might have went back to using his original name of Louis Rogato, so that he could avoid child support. I don’t know. This is all speculation.

I didn’t think that this missing persons case would turn into something like this. I really thought that it would just be something short and an unfortunate low information mystery. But the more I researched it, the more it reminded me of my own grandfather. Who was never in my life, and just about non existent in my dad’s. A person that is still alive to this day, even though elderly, but refuses to contact any of his family. But this is detracting from the main point at hand.

At the end of the day, we don’t know what happened to Robert Sands. And we’ll never know. We’ll never know the true story. Many of the people that would remember him are not here today. If Robert really was this Louis Rogato from Minnesota, he seemed to have done a very good job at making himself unknown. Even if they aren’t the same people, I can’t help but wonder why Louis Rogato lived his life that way. It’s even more curious to me that a person could live to 90, and not even have an obituary about it. No family, no friends to at least say something about it online.

Robert seemed to be like some sort of drifter. Nobody seems to know where they were going, and nobody knows where Robert went.

[POST SCRIPT]

I decided to look for the graves of Louis Rogato's father, who is named as "Russell Rogato" on the marriage license to Billie from 1944. It seems that Russell does have a profile on find a grave, though his spouse is not linked. I am unsure of where Louis' mother may be buried. If this is the right Rogato, perhaps the only way to check if he and Louis Rogato from Minnesota are related would be exhuming the bodies. Not that I advocate for this, since I know nothing about either of these people, and their potential living family members today. It is simply just an idea.

While editing my video, it also clicked that Robert Sands' middle name was Louis. Perhaps an homage to his legal name of Louis Rogato? It seems all too likely that these people have similar names.

[SOURCES]

https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/17201?nav

https://www.crimewatchers.net/threads/robert-lewis-sands-missing-from-friendship-tn-24-aug-1960-age-34.998/

https://www.facebook.com/TNMissingUnsolved/posts/1761834383923310

http://files.usgwarchives.net/ca/nevada/military/ww2/enlistment/armyenli110gmt.txt

#robert sands #missing people #missing persons #louis rogato

[lauwrite1225]

You’re my river running high, run deep run wild || Modern!Finan x OC

Summary : It’s Saegyth’s first year at university and she didn’t count in the equation to fall for an handsome Irishman.

Warnings : A LOT OF FLUFF

A/N : WEEKS I’VE BEEN WRITING THIS! But god i’m happy with it! I thought it would be a good idea to write their meeting and how they ended up together in modern AU eheh. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Take Me to Another Lifetime Masterlist

You’re my river running high, run deep run wild

"I hope you're coming tonight." 

Saegyth paused, stopping to put her notebook in her bag. She frowned at her friend. "Coming where?" She asked confusedly. 

Gisela rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag. "To the mentor meeting party, Saegyth." 

"Oh. Well…" She finished packing her stuff, searching how to answer her. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood to go out." 

"Of course you are!" Gisela snapped, a little upset. "Saegyth you've spent the summer away from every party, now is about time for you to go out." 

Saegyth sighed, walking past Gisela and climbing the stairs of the amphitheatre. Her friend was following her close, staring at her intently, in a way she hated : Gisela was right, Saegyth knew it and Gisela knew she knew it. And she hated that look. 

"Alright, I'll come." She exhaled and Gisela made a little enthusiastic jump. She couldn't help but shook her head in amusement. "But only because of the mentors. Some advice could be welcomed, I am already lost with this class." 

"Oh don't worry!" Gisela mischievously smiled. "I'm pretty sure your handsome mentor will be of good help." She winked at her as they headed to another class. 

Gisela had spent the rest of the day making sure Saegyth would come tonight and when she estimated that she was taking too much time to arrive, she harassed her with texts. Saegyth rolled her eyes at the fifth message she sent her since she had stepped in the subway before taking a quick look at herself in the window's reflection. It was strange to see makeup on her face after such a long time. 

She pushed the thoughts away, wanting to prevent the feelings to overtake, when she heard the voice announcing her station. She found Gisela waiting in front of the bar's door, a huge smile blessing her face. 

"I am so happy you are here!" 

"Like I had the choice." Saegyth pointed out but Gisela ignored her and kindly pushed her inside. 

The moment she made a step in, she felt overwhelmed by the music and the voices in the room. A young man immediately welcomed them, asking for their student cards and then handed them a box with small papers. 

"Pick one, it's the mentors' names, then you can search yours. They wear a badge with their name." He explained, pointing at his own. 

Saegyth took one and unfolded it. Quickly she felt her friend's eyes looking at the name above her shoulder. 

"Finan. Sounds pretty Irish." She noticed and then leaned to her ear to whisper. "I bet he has a very sexy accent."

"Do I need to remind you that you have a boyfriend ?" She tilted her head, and Gisela chuckled. 

"Go find your Irishman, and I'll go in search of a certain Hild." The brown woman waved her hand and disappeared in the crowd leaving her on her own. 

Saegyth took a brief look around, her fingers playing with the edge of her leather jacket, there were several small groups of people but she noticed one composed only of mentors. She walked in their direction and once she was close enough, she started to read their badges. Eventually her eyes fell on one written 'Finan' on. 

She looked up to see his face, he was half a head taller than her and at how large and strong his shoulders seemed to be under his shirt, she guessed he was athletic. He had dark hair that he must have struggled to keep ruled and a thin beard was covering his jaw. He was talking to another man and when he stopped speaking to take a sip of his beer, she took the occasion to make herself known.

"Excuse me, you're Finan, right?" 

He slowly turned his head to her and she noticed how his eyes seemed to spark. They were brown, a deep and dark brown, but somehow they seemed to shine. 

"That's me. I'm your mentor I guess?" He briefly looked at her from feet to head while she was cursing Gisela for being right again : he had an Irish accent, and it was kinda hot.

She handed him the small paper that he took, his fingers briefly brushing hers. He grinned, reading the name and stared at her again, and she felt suddenly weak in front of this bright smile of his. 

"Indeed, that's me. And so, ya're?"

"Saegyth." She smiled. 

"It's nice to meet ya." 

For a moment, an awkward silence settled between them, during which Finan rubbed his hand on his trousers. Eventually, he clapped it on his thigh before designating the counter behind him.

"Let me offer ya a drink?" He proposed.

Saegyth opened her mouth, but a brief instant passed before she was able to answer. "Oh no, I'll pay." 

He shook his head. "I'd insist. I offered a drink last year to the guy I mentored. I wouldn't want to create any inequality." He winked before mentioning to the counter. 

She resolved herself to follow him and gladly accepted the beer he paid for her. 

"So, why are ya in a law school?" He curiously asked, sitting on one of the high chairs. 

She sat next to him, thanking the waiter who put the beer bottle in front of her. "Well, I don't know exactly what I am going to do, but I'll say that my strong sense of justice led me here." She shrugged and it seemed to amuse him. "Really original, isn't it?" 

"Pretty common, indeed. But it was probably the same for me." He explained and she noticed light tension in his smile.

"But, you must have a better idea of what you want to do now." 

"Aye, I'd like to specialize in environmental law." He leaned back in the chair. "It's kinda far from my original idea, but I feel like I'll be more useful." 

Saegyth narrowed her eyes, taken by a sudden curiosity concerning the reasons of his studies choices, but she didn't ask any question, fearing it could be too private. And after all, she knew him for only a few minutes. 

Instead she led their conversation into a more academic one, asking him about the conduct of the first year. He was pretty comfortable while speaking, always smiling and she wondered if his cheeks would ache at the end of the night. But she couldn't deny enjoying how his cheerfulness was contagious. 

From the corner of her eyes, she caught Gisela walking toward them. "Gisela!" Her friend stopped next to her and awkwardly fixed Finan. "Finan, my best friend Gisela." 

Finan tilted his head. "Aye, I think I know. Ya're Uhtred's girlfriend." 

"And you're playing in the same rugby club than him, right?" Finan nodded and she chuckled turning to Saegyth. "The world is really small." She said, her eyebrows lightly rising.

"It seems." Saegyth climbed down the chair, her hands pulling the skirt of her dress to keep it in place. "Well, I'm not going to hog you much longer, Finan. Thank you for everything." 

"That's normal." He waved his hand before resting it on his phone. "Maybe I can give ya my number, if ya have other questions." 

Saegyth opened her mouth to reply that it wasn't necessary, that his email address was already on the paper, but Gisela spoke first. "Oh you should, I took Hild's. Emails are easily lost in a thousand others." She pretended to be exasperated, but Saegyth could see through her acting. 

She looked from her best friend to Finan, he was still staring at her, waiting for her answer. "Alright, why not?"

She took her phone and saved his number after sending him a 'Hi!'. He gave her a small smile when his phone rang. "Enjoy the night, then. And if ya've any questions, don't hesitate." 

"I won't." 

…

"Yes, I promise I'll come next weekend, Mom." 

Saegyth walked her way in the streets of Winchester to the bookshop. She had left the flat a few minutes ago and almost as soon as she stepped outside, her phone had rung, her mother's number appearing. 

It had been two weeks now since the first day of class and Saegyth hadn't taken the time to go back home, in Dorchester, to see her parents who were growing restless. This time, she guessed she didn't have other choices than be true to her words and plan to go back next week. 

"Mom, I have to let you, I'm going to the bookshop. I'll text you later." She said once she was at the shop's door. 

When she came in, it was calm and there was the usual smell of new books floating in the building. She walked between the shelves searching for some law books her teachers advised her. She was reading attentively each of the books' titles and startled when she heard someone suddenly talking to her. She turned quite abruptly and widened her eyes as she recognized the young man. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare ya." Finan apologetically smiled. 

She shook her head and chuckled lightly. "No that's alright, I just wasn't expecting you." She looked at his outfit briefly and noticed he was wearing the same jacket as other staff members and a pin with his name again. "Are you working here?" She immediately cursed herself for such a stupid question. 

"Aye, I do. I've to pay my charges." He shrugged and she nodded with a thin smile. "So… I was askin' if ya needed any help?" 

She hesitated a moment, looking back to the shelves. It was the first time she was seeing him since the party, and in fact, that she was speaking to him as well. She hadn't texted him and neither did he, and she kinda expected them to forget each other quickly. She eventually grabbed her phone and showed him the reference of a book. 

"I'm searching for this book, do you think you have it?" She kindly asked him. 

"Maybe in the storeroom." He frowned. "Don't move, I'll be back in a minute." 

She watched him disappear in a small alley and waited patiently. While he was away, she felt the same curiosity about him tickle her thoughts. He came back not long after with the book as promised. She thanked him when he handed it to her. She expected them to go back to their respective occupations, but strangely they both remained there in silence. 

"So, how's class goin' for ya?" He finally asked. 

She crossed her arms, the book pressed against her chest. "It's fine, really interesting. Though I'm a little bit lost sometimes. There's a lot of new notions." 

He chuckled and she found it as contagious as the last time, a smile growing unintentionally on her face. "The first month I thought my head would explode. But you'll see, everythin' slowly connects and makes sense." 

"I trust you, but I'd like it to come sooner." She admitted. "I'm totally lost with history." 

"Maybe I could help ya, I don't work on sundays." He proposed, his fingers drumming on a shelf. 

Once again Saegyth hesitated, though something in her was screaming for her to accept. "Why not? But the university's library is closed on sundays." 

He nodded his head, giving her a point. "Ya can come to my flat if ya want." 

"Alright." She quickly replied, maybe too quickly. She pinched her lips and hugged the book more against her, suddenly wondering if it was a good idea. "Tomorrow, then?" 

"Tomorrow." He repeated with a smile. "I'll text ya my address." 

Later, when she went back into her small room in the university campus and called Gisela to tell her what happened, she thought she was going to have a heart attack.

"I talked to Uhtred about him, he told me he was single." Her friend said, and she could imagine her mischievous smirk even if she was trying to sound innocent. 

"And what do you want me to do with that information?" She asked, dropping her new book on the desk of her university room. 

"Oh, nothing, I'm just saying." Saegyth rolled her eyes. "Though he seems to be a nice guy. Have you heard that he was part of the group organizing the parties of the university."

"Then that explains why he is single. His bed must be occupied by too many different girls for an actual girlfriend to stay." She replied and Gisela sighed through the phone.

"Why do you have to make such easy conclusions?" She sounded exasperated, what Saegyth could  understand. 

Gisela had tried the whole summer to bring her out, to see other people and mostly forget one person. 

"Listen, what I want you to understand is that you can't just keep yourself from meeting someone nice because of your dumbass ex-boyfriend." She said with her mom's voice, and of course she was always right when using it.

"I'm not-" 

"Yes, you are." Gisela cut her. "He ruined your summer, he won't ruin your first year in university." 

Saegyth dropped on the chair, resting her phone on a pile of books and activating the speaker. "It doesn't mean it has to be Finan. I barely know him, Gisela." 

"No, but I have a good feeling about him." She said, confident, and it made Saegyth chuckle.

"If you do, then."

…

The next afternoon, Saegyth was in front of Finan's building's door. It was a rather old one and the red door was, well, not that red anymore. His apartment was in the old Winchester, but not far from the university, in contrast to the student residence she was living in that was in a much more recent district. 

She looked at the interphone, searching Finan's name but she couldn't find it. So she resolved herself to send him a message. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of the door unlocking and she finally got face to face with a delighted Finan. 

"Hi! Sorry for makin' you wait." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Saegyth stepped in the hall, briefly taking a look to the staircase. "That's alright, it wasn't raining." 

Finan laughed kindly before telling her to follow him. They stopped at the fourth floor, Saegyth making a side note in her mind that it was time to go back into sport. He opened his door and let her in. Surprisingly, the interior of his flat looked much more recent than the building. It wasn't big, the door opening right next to the kitchen that seemed to have recently been renovated. Further there was a small living room and two doors that she supposed were leading to his bedroom and bathroom. 

"Ya can put your things on the couch." She nodded and dropped her bag and coat. "Do ya want to drink somethin'?" He asked when she was resting her notebook on the kitchen's table, already grabbing a glass on a shelf. 

"Water will be good. Thank you."

An hour later, the table was covered with books and papers, Saegyth taking notes as Finan explained her the role of the preator at Rome. Narrated by Finan, the lesson sounded much more interesting, he was undeniably a very good storyteller. And he seemed to enjoy it, adding even some extra details that he learned by himself. 

"You'd make a good teacher." She told him after he gave her some tips for her essay. 

"I doubt havin' enough patience for that." He chuckled lightly. 

"You had, with me." She replied, putting her notes back in her folder. 

Finan shook his head. "That's only because ya're a good student."

She turned her head to him and couldn't help but blush at how intense and hypnotizing his eyes were. He was smiling kindly and she wondered when was the last time she found a man's smile beautiful. Finan's one was handsome, but also childish, which she found endearing. 

She blinked and looked away when she realised it had been too long since she started to stare at him, chewing her bottom lips. "Thank you." She tried to hide her embarrassment, but Finan seemed happy with it, still grinning. 

Saegyth packed up her things back in her bag once they were done and Finan accompanied her down stairs. 

"Thank you again for your help. It's really nice." 

Finan waved his hands as if it was nothing. "It's alright, t'was a pleasure to help ya." He opened the door and she made a step outside. "We can do it next Sunday too, if ya want."

"Oh, I promised my mother to come back for the weekend." She explained, but she couldn't help but add when she noticed the ounce of disappointment on his face: "But maybe Friday, I don't have any classes in the morning."

"Alright then."

…

"How did you have such a good grade?" Osferth asked, leaning on Saegyth's table and taking a look at the paper. 

 "She has a private teacher." Gisela grinned next to her and their new friend looked at them confusedly, Saegyth elbowing her best friend.

Osferth had been sitting on the table in front of them in most of the classes and they eventually started to sympathize. He was honestly the sweetest man she ever met, always kind and smiling. 

"She's saying stupidities." Saegyth rolled her eyes. 

"Am I?" The reflection made her win another glare and she chuckled. 

But she wasn't totally wrong, in the past two months Finan had been helping her a lot with her lessons, to the point that she was spending every sundays afternoon at his flat, or fridays morning when she was going back to Dorchester for a weekend to see her family. And this, even when she had no problem understanding the class anymore. So they would just study together, and simply enjoy each other's company.

And Saegyth was undoubtedly appreciating Finan's company, he had always the good word to make her smile. But she liked even more to make him laugh, the way his dark eyes were narrowing, creating small crinkles in the corner of them, terribly endearing to her and making her heart flutter. Sometimes they would cross each other at University, have a small talk and as soon as he was gone, Gisela would tease her by saying she was blushing again. Which, in fact, was probably true.

"The boys have a match Saturday." Gisela told her one day during the break the teacher just allowed. "I'm going to watch Uhtred. But you should come... to see him play." She winked, not even bothering to specify who she was talking about anymore.

"I know nothing of rugby, Gisela." Saegyth replied, correcting something in her notes. 

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Do you think I know better? But Uhtred likes when I come, and honestly it's sight to be seen." She whispered in her ear, smirking, and Saegyth glared at her. 

"Please, keep your dirty thoughts for yourself." She chuckled, despite pretending to be shocked.

"Alright, alright! Though you owe him that. He's been helping you for two months now, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you there."

And that's how she found herself, a Saturday afternoon in the stands of Winchester's rugby field with Gisela. The boys were playing against Lunden's team, which seemed to be a good one as the score was tied the whole match. Saegyth easily recognized Finan, he was in front, always alert at where the ball was, ready to jump and catch it. She had always noticed how strong and large his shoulders were and didn't expect him to be so fast as he ran across the field. His teammates cheered him when he fell in the grass between the two pillars forming the goal with the ball. 

When the arbitrator whistled the end of the match, Winchester was 3 points ahead. She stood up with the other spectators, applauding them with a pride smile on her face. Gisela was even more excited, her hand curved around her mouth as she screamed that Winchester's team was the best.

"Come, let's congratulate them." She grinned, taking Saegyth's hand before she could protest.

They climbed down the stairs of the stands and approached the group created around the coach. Gisela cheered again when Uhtred started to walk towards them. She ran to hug him, but stopped when she noticed how sweaty her boyfriend was. Saegyth couldn't help but laugh as Uhtred sighed desperately.  She liked her best friend's man, he was two years older than them and already working to be part of the police. 

"Ya here, that's a surprise." 

Saegyth turned on her heels, startled by Finan's voice. He was standing right in front of her, his cheeks red, his hair messier than ever and his shirt sticking to his body, revealing the shape of his pecs and abs. She couldn't help but remember Gisela's words : a sight to be seen. And once again, she was right. 

"A good one, I hope."

His face broke in a smile as he ran a hand in his hair. "Aye, it is."

Her teeth sunk in the flesh of her lower lip, his eyes were detailing her silently, and she thought she would melt. "Congratulations!" She said, trying to ease the tension between them. "I don't know anything about rugby but I understood you played well." 

"Well, thank ya." He cheerfully laughed. He looked aside a brief moment when someone called his name, his teammates taking the direction of the locker room. He shouted that he was coming before turning to Saegyth. "We're goin' to celebrate at the bar tonight, d'ya wanna join?" 

She hesitated, looking around as if the answer would be written somewhere, but finally nodded. "Why not?"

…

The music in the bar was loud when Saegyth walked in with Uhtred and Gisela, the young man having proposed to drive them here. Almost immediately, Uhtred, that she learned in the car was in fact the captain of the team, was greeted by his friends. Their complicity really was heartwarming to see and she and Gisela laughed lightly. 

They both headed to the bar, Gisela ordering a virgin mojito, she promised she'd drive them back home, and Saegyth a not virgin one. She frowned when she felt her friend's eyes intently studying her with a smirk.

"What?" She asked before catching the straw of her cocktail between her lips. 

"Oh nothing, I just noticed you look particularly pretty tonight." Gisela replied, looking away. 

"Am I not always?" She raised an eyebrow, a grin pulling her lips. 

Gisela laughed. "Of course you always are." She kissed her cheek before sipping her drink. "But it's been a long time since the last time I saw you liked that. And let me tell you, I'm really happy about it." 

Saegyth smiled fondly at her best friend. She was right, she hadn't spent so much time preparing herself for a party in months. Fortunately, Gisela had always insisted on her having a party dress at her room in the campus, otherwise she'd have to content herself with a shirt and trousers. Saegyth loved this dress, last time she had worn it was at her birthday party, last year, for her 18th birthday. It seemed to be such a long time ago now. It was black with a soft fabric, the skirt falling just above her knees. 

"Thank you, Gisela." She squeezed her hand before looking above her shoulder, hearing the noisy team behind them. 

There was a line of shots on a table and a player, tall but thinner than most of the boys, was drinking them one by one. Saegyth quickly understood that he was called Sihtric as the others were shouting his name. She amusingly shook her head and as she did, her eyes caught Finan. She blushed, realizing he was already looking at her. He raised his beer in greeting, his usual grin lighting his face. He was wearing the same shirt that during the tutors' party but a different pants and she chewed her inner jaw, wondering how the hell she was remembering that. 

"I'm going to join Uhtred. You should go and join him." Gisela said in her ear before walking away. 

Saegyth sighed and started to walk towards the Irishman, her heart beating faster at each step. 

"Hi!" She smiled, raising her cocktail as he did with his beer before.

"Heya!" He clinked the tip of his bottle with the edge of her glass. "I'm glad ya came." 

"You doubted I would come?" She asked before bringing her drink to her lips.

His eyes followed her movement before turning to his friends. "Well, a loud rugby team isn't always the best company." 

Saegyth chuckled, looking as another guy was drinking his own shots, the others encouraging him. "Loud is the word indeed." She admitted as her clear eyes met his own again. "How long have you been playing with them?"

He frowned, thinking. "Two years? I joined the team when I arrived in Winchester, but I've been playin' since I'm a wee boy." He explained to her before drinking a gulp of his beer. 

"So it's not been a long time since you're here." He shook his head. "You must miss Ireland, no?" She asked but regretted immediately when his smile dropped for a minute. 

His jaw twitched nervously and he leaned more against the wall behind him. "Not really…" He grimaced. "T'is a little complicated." 

Now that they had broached the subject, Saegyth realized that when she had occasionally talked to him about her family, but he had never mentioned his own. "It's alright, if you're happy here, it's the most important." She said to ease him, not wanting to make the situation more uncomfortable for him.

And she was glad that he gave her a gentle smile, one that warmed her whole body. She hadn't felt that way in months, and even the last time she did, it wasn't as strong as with him. She stopped to breath for a moment when he brought his hand to her face, his fingers delicately bringing a strand of her hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, back behind her ear. His fingertips brushed her cheek and she couldn't guess if it was the blood suddenly rising or his touch that burnt her. 

"I should present ya to the others." He said, his hand falling back to his side. 

She was tempted to refuse, to say that she'd rather stay just with him, but it sounded immediately awkward in her mind. And being awkward was the last thing she wanted. So she nodded and followed him. He presented her to a few of his friends, including Sihtric, that she had noticed earlier, that Finan described as one of his closest friends with Uhtred. He was sympathetic, though the alcohol was making him speak loudly. One of the boys proposed to her a shot of rum, that she accepted, grimacing when the alcohol slightly burnt her throat. She put down the small glass and when she looked around, Finan wasn't by her side anymore, and she couldn't deny the disappointment she felt.

She kept talking with some of the players, each talking of their own studies or works until someone grabbed her hand. "Come dance with me!" Gisela prompted her, dragging her to the dance floor. 

"Slowly Gisela, I'm drunk." She laughed as she followed her, careful to not stumble. 

Once they were in the middle of the crowd, it was as if Saegyth's mind couldn't think of anything else but the music playing around them. She found herself dancing with her best friend on I Love It by Icona Pop, shouting the lyrics and jumping in rhythm. They probably looked ridiculous, but she couldn't care less. She was smiling so much, her cheeks were hurting while her head was spinning. Though she didn't stop, it had been so long since the last time she had so much fun. 

A few songs passed until Uhtred stole her Gisela to dance. She was out of breath and in need of a little break. She succeeded to find a way out of the dancefloor and she dropped on the nearest bench seat. 

"Tired?" Finan asked her with an amused smile, sitting next to her.

She shook her head. "I just need a break. Christ I'm thirsty." She sighed and he handed her his beer, half filled. "Do you drink only beers?" She asked him, gladly welcoming the drink.

He laughed, and maybe it was the alcohol but she was now sure it was the most beautiful sound she had heard in her entire life.

"I'm Irish." He grinned and she chuckled with him.

She drank a few gulps and gave him back the bottle. "I thought you had disappeared." 

Finan leaned a little toward her, his brown pupils mesmerising her. "Why d'ya care? Did ya miss me?" He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting, and she noticed his accent was thicker now that he was probably drunk too.

She leaned forward as well, holding his gaze and grinned. "Maybe." 

She knew the alcohol was probably the first to blame for the mess happening in her mind, but Finan was undoubtedly close. His knee was touching hers and it almost felt too much. She couldn't just stay here and simply stare at him, though she didn't want to leave him. She was about to speak but he was faster. 

"D'ya wanna dance?" He asked and she immediately nodded.

He stood up and gave her his hand, she looked alternately at his face and his palm a few times before grabbing it. When earlier, she had wished Gisela to let go of her hand the quickest possible so she could dance, now she wanted Finan to keep holding it, even when they were finally in the middle of the dancers. When he released her, I Follow Rivers was now playing in the bar. Saegyth loved that song, it made her want to dance but rhythm was soft enough to make her movements slow. She smiled at Finan who definitely wasn't the greatest dancer but seemed to enjoy the moment. He grabbed her hand and made her twirl, her laugh barely audible with the music.

After a few twirls, her head was spinning again, and she had to hold his shoulders to not stumble, his hands on her waist to keep her straight. The song was suddenly calm and they could now hear each other's chuckles. Finan leaned down to her ear, his hot breath caressing her skin. 

"Ya're beautiful." He said, his voice or the words, or maybe both making her shiver. 

He moved away but his face was still close to hers. Now the singer's voice was only accompanied by the piano, it was her favourite part, and her lips were instinctively forming the lyrics, but her whole attention was on Finan. She couldn't keep her eyes away from him, his eyelids half closed and his nose touching hers. It was like the time had stopped and all she could feel was his breath on her mouth and how she was craving for their lips that seemed to be attracted by an invisible force to finally collide. She closed her eyes when his hand moved to the side of her face, his thumb brushing her skin. His forehead touched hers and her heart was racing as fast the rhythm of the music that had started to accelerate. 

Then suddenly everything vanished. When she opened her eyes Finan wasn't looking at her anymore, but at his friend Sihtric, his arms around the Irishman's shoulders and his face as pale as a ghost. 

"Finan, I think I'm going to throw up." Sihtric stammered. 

"Fuck off." He grumbled and started to drag his friend to the toilets, letting Saegyth on her own in the middle of the crowd.

It took her a moment to realize what just happened, her breath slow and her gaze lost. She was feeling so empty, the suddenness blowing her clear. She went back to reality when she felt arms wrapping around her neck from behind her back. She blinked several times until she turned her head and recognized Gisela. 

"Are you alright?" She frowned.

"Yes." She breathed and her friend nodded.

"It's time to go."

…

Saegyth shivered at the cold water as she turned on the shower. Her head was hurting because of her hangover, but it could have been worse. She rubbed her face vigorously before untangling her hair with her fingers. As she washed herself, memories of the party came back to her mind until the moment she was dancing with Finan and she felt her cheeks grow hot. They were supposed to see each other, as every Sunday, today and she had no idea how she should react once she'd be with him. Of course they had been both drunk, but she had truly wanted him to kiss her. And now she doubted she could ever face him without feeling utterly uncomfortable. 

She hesitated to text Gisela about what happened, and when she finally did, she first received a mess of random capital letters. Eventually, she told her to try to act as usual, which Saegyth already knew almost impossible, and that another occasion would come soon enough. The blonde was doubtful, what if he only wanted to have fun? That this kiss that never happened meant nothing to him.

She reluctantly went to his flat at the usual hour and sent him a message when she was in front of the building. He quickly opened her and to her surprise, he seemed as uncomfortable as her. She couldn't tell if it was reassuring her or not. Once they were in his flat, she started to remove her stuff from her bag. 

"So, did ya like the party yesterday?" He asked sitting in front of her.

She briefly looked up to him and she felt like he was trying to read her mind. "I did." She replied, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sorry for Sihtric, this idiot can't hold his liquor." He said, holding back a laugh.

She bit her lips, wondering if he was sorry for the interruption Sihtric occured or just for his presence in general. "It's alright." She smiled, still looking away.

"Good." 

They studied silently that day, for a moment she almost forgot his presence, until she raised her gaze and crossed his. His pen was twirling between his fingers in a practiced move and he seemed to take a deep breath. 

"What?" She carefully asked when his lips parted slightly to speak, but he hesitated.

He stopped to play with his pen and looked down to his notebook. "It's just… Yesterday when we were dancin'…" 

"Yes?" She cut him, her breath short. 

He raised his gaze and he stared at her for a moment before finally speaking again. "Well, I meant it when I said ya were beautiful. And I also intended to kiss ya, before this idiot arrived." He grumbled the last words. 

Saegyth was looking at him with wide eyes. Her teeth brushed her lower lips before she pretended to concentrate again on her work, when she actually just tried to hide her smile. "Thank you." 

He kept watching, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Aye, ya're welcome." He repeated, visibly destabilised.  

They worked silently again until this time it was the sound of rain that interrupted them. Through the window, Saegyth could see the dark sky and heavy drops crashing violently against the pane. She sighed, already imagining how wet to the bones she'd be when finally to her room. 

"Ya can stay here if ya want." Finan proposed to her. 

She shook her head. "I don't want to bother you." 

"I wouldn't propose if ya were." He said, tilting his head and kindly smiling.

And so she accepted. They both put their things away, judging they had worked enough for today and instead they started to work on their dinner. She took a look at the content of his fridge with him and they came to the conclusion that they should do pastas with cooked zucchinis. Finan declared that he could make the pastas, and Saegyth realized how what she thought was the easiest thing on Earth to cook could actually be difficult. 

"Oh my god Finan, didn't you watch the time?" She exclaimed after tasting a definitely overcooked pasta. 

"I forgot." He grimaced, staring at the disaster. He waved his hands when she gave him a desperate look. "What? I was distracted." He said in his defence. 

She huffed amusingly. "You were?" She raised an eyebrow. 

He nodded, leaning slightly above her. "Aye, but ya should watch your pan, or we'll eat burned zucchinis with my delicious pastas." 

She laughed before narrowing her eyes. "I'm not that easily distracted." She declared, crossing her arms. He raised an eyebrow again, challenging her. But she turned around and took a wooden spoon to turn the vegetables in the pan. "It's almost ready, maybe you can set the table." 

"Yes ma'am!" He said obediently and she rolled her eyes. 

Fortunately, the zucchinis weren't burned, but they still had to eat the overcooked pastas. Though, she succeeded to forget this fact as her whole mind was focused on the man sitting in front of her. She couldn't help but think about last night again, what he said earlier, and if it would happen again tonight. There would be no music and, thank God, no Sihtric to interrupt them. The thought remained in the corner of her mind, as they talked. 

This time their discussion seemed more personal than usual. In an hour she learned more of him than in the past two months. He, surprisingly, vaguely talked of why he left Ireland, saying he just wanted to get away from his family. She didn't push the discussion further, remembering his reaction last night, but felt honoured that he decided to share a little of it with her. 

When they finished dinner, it was still raining like it was the Great Flood. 

"You're sure I can stay here for the night?" She asked him, not wanting to take advantage of his kindness. 

He turned around, taking the plate she was handing him. "I'm sure." He confirmed before turning again and putting the plate on the pile on a shelf. 

"Thank you very much." She waited for him to face her to continue. "For everything you did for me since we met. You didn't have to." 

"That's where ya're mistaking." He replied, leaning against the counter. "I did have to." 

She confusedly frowned at him, there wasn't any smirk on his face and she suddenly got scared she had been mistaking on in fact everything. 

"I had to do all of this, not only because it felt right to do so, but also because I wanted to see ya."  

She felt like her heart had suddenly stopped to beat as she kept holding his gaze. He stepped toward her until she had to lift her chin slightly to look at him in the eyes. 

"So it wasn't pure charity." She teased and she felt satisfied as the sound of his warm laugh reached her ears. 

"Not totally." He admitted with a lopsided smile.

"We have a common point then." He raised a brow and she smirked. "I kept coming because I also wanted to see you." 

He chuckled again, his eyes sparking as he detailed her face. And slowly, despite the lack of music, the same tension that last night grew between them. His palm cupped the side of her face, his thumb grazing in the same tender way on her cheek as he leaned his face down to hers. When his nose touched hers, she closed eyes, his hot breath mixing with hers. And finally, she felt his lips against hers, his kiss so delicate she felt as if she was a masterpiece. 

When he moved away, she was smiling fondly, her whole body shivering at what just happened. She opened her eyes and was pleased to see the same expression on Finan's face.

"I feel like a girl who just had her first kiss." She confessed, blushing. 

Finan grinned, his hand sliding in her hair. "Let's not make it the last then." 

She gladly welcomed his mouth, this time more eager, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. There was something almost natural with kissing him, as if it had always been meant to be. His hands slid down her waist to rest on her hips, but he didn't go further. When they separated, both out of breath, Finan pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

"We should go to sleep." He said and she reluctantly nodded. 

Saegyth had obviously nothing to wear for the night, so Finan lent her a t-shirt and sweatpants. When she walked out of the bathroom, she frowned at him as he was dropping a cushion and a cover on the couch. 

"What are you doing?" She asked him, confused.

He turned around. "Makin' my bed." He answered, speaking slowly as if he was a child just being caught doing something foolish. 

"Finan, you just kissed me. I think we can at least share a bed now." She said with an amused smile. 

He sighed in relief and took back his cushion before walking towards her again. "Good, because sleepin' on this is pretty much like sleepin' on the damn floor." He explained, making her giggle before she kissed him lightly. 

Not long after, they crawled to bed, facing each other in the dark. Saegyth shyly let her fingers brush his bearded cheek until Finan turned his head to kiss her wrist tenderly. It wasn't the first time she was sleeping with a man, but never before it felt so intimate even though they were still fully clothed. In fact, a lot of things she thought she knew got swept away by Finan. What she had felt before suddenly sounding like only a prelude of what he would make her feel.

A/N: 7000 fucking words. Also, Finan playing rugby ? Highkey hot.

Tags: @geekandbooknerd​ @poguesmaybank​ @obipoelover​ @mrsalwayswrite​

#finan the agile #finan #modern!Finan #finan x oc #The Last Kingdom #fanfiction

[letterboxd]

The Other Bill and Ted.

As No Man of God hits theaters and VOD following its Tribeca premiere in June, director Amber Sealey talks to Dominic Corry about her Ted Bundy two-hander and answers our Life in Film questions.

Amber Sealey has been very acknowledging of the fact that her new film is one of many to center around the horrific crimes of serial rapist and murderer Ted Bundy. As she outlined in her Tribeca Q&A with Letterboxd, one way she intended No Man of God to stick out from the pack was through the use of consciously silent background characters who represent Bundy’s voiceless victims.

The structure and source of the film also help distinguish it from other Ted Bundy movies: No Man of God is based on the recordings of FBI agent Bill Hagmaier (played in the film by Elijah Wood), who was tasked with interviewing an incarcerated Bundy in the years leading up to his execution, in order to help determine whether or not he was criminally insane, which could’ve helped to remove Bundy from death row.

With many of Bundy’s victims never officially attributed to the killer, Hagmaier also sought to draw confessions, and something resembling remorse, out of Bundy, to help bring closure to those victims’ families. As detailed in the film, much of which was taken directly from transcripts of the interviews, Bundy and Hagmaier’s relationship was complicated, and the intimacy that develops between them informs No Man of God in often uncomfortable ways.

Luke Kirby and Elijah Wood in a scene from ‘No Man of God’.

Wood (also a producer on the film) and Luke Kirby turn in career-high work as Hagmaier and Bundy, respectively, while Sealey textures the film with some of the most emotive stock-footage montage sequences this side of The Parallax View. Among positive reactions to the film, Claira Curtis, in a four-star review, writes: “Perhaps one of the most successful elements lies in Amber Sealey’s uncentering of the ‘genius’ moniker that has followed Bundy through his years of infamy.” On the pairing of Wood and Kirby in the leading roles, Connor Ashdown-Ford notes that “the chemistry between them both is so authentic it’s darn right unsettling”.

Unsettling is right. Late in the film, Sealey depicts a real-life TV interview that took place between Bundy and evangelical preacher/​author/​psychologist James Dobson (played by stalwart character actor Christian Clemonson), who uses Bundy to forward his anti-pornography agenda. Throughout this scene, the camera lingers on a young female member of the TV crew (played by an uncredited Hannah Jessup) as she silently reacts to being in Bundy’s presence. Emblematic of Sealey’s aforementioned philosophy in constructing the film, it’s a moment that appears to be having an impact on audiences, as detailed in Nolan Barth’s review: “She might have one of my favorite performances of this year? She shows us fascination, guilt, disgust and fear in like only 30 seconds of screen time. Give her an Oscar. Please.”

In an awkward incident that represents a perhaps unanticipated effect of there being so many contemporaneous movies with the same subject matter, director Joe Berlinger (Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, the Paradise Lost trilogy), who recently directed both the Zac Efron-starring scripted Ted Bundy biopic Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile and the documentary Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes, sent an email to Sealey ahead of No Man of God’s Tribeca premiere about remarks she had made while discussing how her film differentiated itself from the existing Ted Bundy movies. He felt she had accused him of glorifying Bundy. After Sealey took the exchange public, she explained to Variety that she had never singled out Berlinger’s films in any of her remarks.

In a conversation with Letterboxd, Sealey delves into her approach to No Man of God, and talks about some of her filmic inspirations.

‘No Man of God’ director Amber Sealey.

There is really effective and creepy use of stock-footage montages in this film. Sometimes you see that sort of thing at the beginning of a film, but it’s interesting that you keep going back to them after using them in the opening credits. What was the thinking in using those montages and how did you select the footage? Amber Sealey: The thinking for those was a couple things: One, we don’t leave the prison, and I wanted [the audience] to know a little bit what’s going on outside, in terms of the cultural zeitgeist, like what’s the tone of the time? What movies are popular? What books are popular? What are people wearing? I wanted to have there be a kind of cultural touchstone outside of the prison, but at the same time I wanted it to represent potentially a little bit of what was going on inside Bill’s mind. So the story of the montages as they go on, it gets a little bit more fucked up, for lack of a better word, for Bill, inside of his head.

We were originally going to shoot the crowd scenes [of protesters outside the prison] and recreate them and then because of Covid restrictions, we couldn’t do that anymore. So then I knew we were going to be using archival footage for the crowd, and I didn’t want the archival crowd footage to suddenly jump out as being so different from the rest of our film. We’re shooting on an ARRI camera, [so it’s] not going to look like a Hi-8 from the 1980s. I needed to incorporate this look, this ’80s grainy look into the rest of the movie so that it feels like it’s part and parcel of the film, part of the storytelling.

We got [the footage] in different ways. I have an old friend that I’ve known since I was like, two, he lived next door to me, and my cousin, they both had video cameras in the ’80s and would film everything. So some of that footage is old family footage of their family or friends. There’s a couple shots in there of my neighbors when I was growing up. Then some of it, we did a lot of research on [stock-imagery services] Getty and Pond5, just finding archival footage that we could use that really told the story that we wanted to tell with the montages. It was a lengthy process finding all of that footage for sure.

What was Bill Hagmaier’s involvement in the film? Bill is an executive producer on the film, so he was very involved. The transcripts of those conversations between Bill and Ted, we got from Bill. Bill gave us so much great stuff to work with—the newer FBI files that he was allowed to share with us and the recordings, and when the script was originally written it was written based off of those recordings, and the writer originally spoke to Bill and then when I came on board, I talked to him and then I changed the script, even more from conversations I had with him. He was just a resource.

Almost every [character] you see on screen, those are real people, and he hooked us up with a lot of those real people. I spoke with the prison guards and the wardens and all of that. Then he was just a resource in terms of like, I would ask him, “what color were your shoes?” “Did you carry this kind of briefcase or that kind of briefcase?” Because it was important to me that all that production-design stuff was really authentic. I liked to know, like, “what were your haircuts like then, Bill?” So he was available to talk about the emotional side of things, and then the real just humdrum kind of things. He’s just a lovely guy, he’s really supportive of me and of the film and he just wanted to be accessible as much as he could and he was. He’s a very humble, generous person.

Aleksa Palladino plays civil-rights attorney Carolyn Lieberman to Luke Kirby’s Ted Bundy.

What films did you watch, or cite as reference points in preparation for No Man of God? Literally hundreds and hundreds of movies. When I’m looking for my creative look, I just watched so many films, and a lot of old films. I’d have to go back and look at my look book to tell you all of them but I pull images from the weirdest places. But once I get past figuring out the creative look of the film, I don’t then like to watch the movies a lot because I try to really make it its own thing and I worry too much that I’ll be copycatting other artists and I want to try [to] avoid that.

What’s your favorite true-crime movie? Oh god, what was the one about the guy who like, went to the bathroom and confessed, accidentally? He forgot his mic was on? Do you remember that one?

The Jinx? Yeah. Even though it’s a documentary, I’m going to go with that.

What’s your favorite big-screen serial-killer performance? It has to be Luke Kirby. Luke Kirby as Bundy.

What was the first horror film you saw? My dad had me watch Cat People when I was nine. Does that count?

The Val Lewton one? The ’80s one.

Oh, the Paul Schrader one? Yes! The Paul Schrader one.

Nastassja Kinski in Paul Schrader’s ‘Cat People’ (1982).

When you were nine years old? Yeah. I also watched Blue Velvet when I was nine. Oh wow, thank you Dad.

What’s the most disturbing film you’ve ever seen? Most disturbing, hmm… Kids.

What film made you want to become a filmmaker? It was Michael Winterbottom’s Nine Songs. My first film was a reaction to that movie. I’m a huge Winterbottom fan. That’s a great movie, but also it advertises itself as being a real relationship and real sex and I watched it and I was like, well that’s not like any… it was like two models, you know? Their sex scenes were like a perfume ad and I was like, well that’s not what real sex looks like for real people. I made my first feature after that.

What’s your go-to comfort movie? Oh, so many, let’s think. The Proposal. I love Trainwreck. I really like rom-coms, like if I’m sick or something, I’ll watch rom-coms. Roman Holiday, stuff like that.

What’s a classic that you couldn’t get into or that you think is overrated? Umm. Star Wars. I’m trying to think, there’s something else that I just don’t like… everyone loves that singing movie. What’s that singing movie that when Moonlight won the Oscar, it got announced?

La La Land. Yeah. I was not into that.

What filmmaker living or dead do you envy/admire the most? Yorgos Lanthimos. Or Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

If you were forced to remake a classic movie, what would you remake? Grease.

Who would be in the cast of your Grease remake? Oh I don't even know but it would be much darker. It would still be a musical and still be funny, but much darker.

I would like to see that movie. I would too.

Related content

Diego’s list of films featuring the FBI

Boris1980’s list of films about serial killers

Follow Dominic on Letterboxd

‘No Man of God’ is in theaters and on VOD from August 27, 2021.

#amber sealey #luke kirby #elijah wood #ted bundy #bill hagmaier #fbi #serial killer #thriller #courtroom #fbi movies #letterboxd

[rairaidango]

SEEDS THAT GROW - Tobisaku, Madasaku, Ita(masaku)

CHAPTER 2 - BEST FRIENDS

1

First chapter garnered more attention than I had expected it to ngl! But it felt nice to know ppl like wtv im trying out here. Here is chapter 2! Just a reminder I’m not a creative writer (nor do I write well at all lol). This is just fun for me and allows me to focus on something new during quarantine :) It’s pr slowburn but focuses on a lot of Sakura’s thoughts and feelings. (and her amazing friendship with Ino) 

TW : mentions of depression, anxiety, self-loathing, etc

“Yeah I’ve definitely seen you at the club before!” Itama pointed at her, mouth wide open in a boyish smile.

There was no way this Itama boy was that boy. Was there? 

Sakura’s eyes were eagle wide but she quickly shook it off with an awkward laugh. She really couldn’t be sure if it was him, but maybe it was? There really was a possibility. 

“Ah, you know maybe! I can’t recall if I have seen you on a night out though.” she tried to calm her nerves down with even more awkward laughter, but she caught Itachi’s eyes. He could see she was a little uncomfortable.

“Maybe you were like really drunk or something but I’ve definitely seen you-”

“Itama, you’ve seen everyone at the club.” Itachi rescued her. She gave Itachi a silent look of thanks. He only nodded in reply. “And you know, you talk too much man.” He slapped the Itama boy on the back.

“Was just trying to be friendly!”

“More like annoying. Why are we friends again?” Shisui tapped his finger on his chin comedically before laughing and receiving punches. 

The boys were strangers to her, with maybe the exception of Itachi, but she barely ever spoke to anyone outside of her girl group. She never allowed herself to talk to guys casually, and there was a reason for that as stupid as some people felt about it- but it made sense to her at the time and she feared getting close to people.

So this, this, this was nice. And this was a good thing, a casual conversation with friendly guys. She smiled at the thought, because she missed the times when she had close male friends. 

“Alright, everyone’s here according to the attendance list.” Madara announced whilst shuffling the papers in his hand. He pointed to the board making sure to point out the layout of the plans for tomorrow. “The introductory session is tomorrow and we’ve all assigned you to specific roles. We have a large group of eager college students who want to learn more about the wondrous world of medicine and medical practices. If you look at the board you’ll see about 5 groups, each group having 10 students. And two of you will essentially be leading each group and bring them around our campus, then the facilities in our building. This tour will all happen after the presentation that I and Izuna will prepare. Lecture hall 2 alright. You should ALL be there before students arrive. Is that clear?” 

The many student volunteers nodded. 

“Do we have to do anything before the talk?” Itama raised his hand and spoke. 

“Usher in and organise the students coming into the hall. Just make sure everything’s done in an orderly fashion. Knowing you Itama...please do this and work with Itachi.” 

Madara knew Itama? Sakura quirked her brow glancing ever so slightly at the boy with the badly done highlights. She wondered what relationship they had for Madara to speak so casually of him. 

“Will this be sent to us through email?”

“Of course, you’ll receive the plans, groups, layout and even the presentation when you leave the union. We professors aren’t stupid enough to think any of you, or one of you, could remember this stuff.” A playful smirk plastered on Madara’s face was all it took for Sakura to understand that he was probably only referring to Itama. “Alright 3.30pm tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.”

Who were they to each other?

“You know, I get why nii-san finds your uncle annoying and doesn’t like him very much.” Itama grumbled. 

“Eh well to be honest, I get your brother.” Shisui shrugged in response. “Madara likes Itachi though, because he’s a ‘prodigy’.” Itachi only smiled at the mention of his name.“He’s your professor right uh-sorry what’s your name?” 

“Ah yeah he is.” a pause. “Uh my name is Sakura. And he’s really a good teacher though.” She got up from her seat and caught sight of the mentioned professor turning off the projector. 

And then she realised he was looking right back at her with a piercing red gaze. Embarrassment rose in her and her cheeks felt hot; she looked away as quickly as she noticed his gaze and covered her face from him. 

What was that reaction?

“Sakura? I bet you hear how fitting that is.” Shisui snorted. She noticed Itachi was giving her some sort of look, but she couldn’t really figure it out. 

Ah shit, he knows. 

“Yeah, but you don’t have him constantly picking on you in class and after class and outside of university.” 

“Outside of university?” Sakura questioned. 

“Yeah, he’s just close to my family. Don’t really understand how or why.” Itama says hands stretched up in the air. 

“Don’t know why we’re close to you.” Itachi teased coolly, earning him an annoyed look from Itama. 

“Yo, anyone wants some bubble tea. Kokoro Kafe?” Shisui and Itachi grabbed their bags and headed towards the door. “I could do with some milk tea.”

“My sweet tooth and I agree. Sakura?” Sakura looked at the boys in front her. Were they really inviting her to go out and eat? Her? 

It was a good thing, they were nice people, and where was the harm in getting to know them?

But Sakura couldn't accept this.

“It’s alright, thank you though. I really do appreciate the invite. I’m just going to go back home and eat.” She smiled, eyes closed. “It was really nice meeting you three though.” She waved, and the boys all waved back and left the union. 

She sighed.

Outside, it was getting dark. The blue paint of the sky was darkening to a violet tone dashed with white specks of clouds. The yellow street lights only added to the magical transition of day to evening. It was quiet - but not eerily so, soft fading chatter of students echoed around the campus and the sounds of distant birds were sung in the air. 

Sakura breathed in, taking in the moment. She was sitting down on the cold stone steps in front of the union. She rarely ever looked at the scenery around her, but when she did, it helped her feel a little bit more at peace. It helped her feel a little bit more alive.

“Sakura?”

“Sir, you haven’t left?” a sudden bubble of anxiety exploding in her.

“I am now. Are you alright?” He asked. She wasn’t sure if he was asking just to be nice or if he genuinely was concerned. 

He probably didn’t care, he just had to ask as her teacher. Realistically speaking, why would anyone really care anyways. She was pretty burdensome and didn’t deserve to be worried about by even her closest friends. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” She smiled, her smile feigning genuine happiness.

“Alright then.” He passed her a...cookie? “Just making sure. Get home safe, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pointed at her, his expression asking her for confirmation. She just nodded in reply with the same smile.

His figure grew smaller as he walked away and into the parking area, and her stomach felt even more uncomfortable now that she was alone. But she wanted to be alone, so she really couldn’t complain about the discomfort. 

Also, what the fuck? A cookie?

--

“I kind of wanted to ask for her number…” 

“Then you should have before we left.” Shisui sipped his Chatime drink. “But then again, maybe you scared her off with all that eagerness.” 

“I don’t think I came off too forward.” Itama stated questioningly, and looked to Itachi for an answer.

“I mean...when you mentioned the club..she did look a bit uncomfortable.” Itachi pointed out. Itama pouted slightly. “Maybe next time. You need to be able to read people better if you wanna find someone.” Shisui only laughed. All of the boys, including Itama himself, knew that it was hard for the boy to date. “Not your fault though, cheer up.”

“I was a bit nervous.” Itama said, taking a sip of his green tea latte with a nervous smile.”I’m sure I’ve seen her at Kyo, but only in passing maybe, once or twice. Pretty sure we never talked before.” he sunk into the chair. Itachi just stared at his friend’s disappointed features. “I would’ve remembered.”

“You’re so upset, awh!” Shisui teased.

“She was just really pretty, you know?”

--

In their house it was always quite lively; everyone was cooking and getting dinner ready before communing in the living room area to gossip and talk about their day. Hinata and Ino were undoubtedly the best cooks of the house, while Sakura and TenTen were often the ones buying readymade food. 

Tonight however, Sakura’s fridge was almost empty and all she could really make was some good old penne pasta with ready done tomato sauce. She wasn’t upset about the option, but it was about the fourth time in a row now that she’s had to eat pasta for dinner. 

Ino came into the living room - bouncing happily as her usually gleeful self- with an amazing katsu curry dish she had whipped up. The curry flavours lit up the whole room in salivating awe. 

“Yes, all of you can have some too. I made a lot.” She grinned with a certain kind of confidence only the Yamanakas had. Taking a seat on the floor between Sakura and Tenten, Ino dug into her delicious dish.

“Honestly I’d marry you just for your food.” Sakura hummed after taking a spoon of her curry. 

“JUST for my food?”

“Let me correct myself.” Sakura rubbed her chin in a joking manner. “Because I love you.” Sakura hugged her best friend, and everyone erupted with laughter. 

“Ino would be an annoying wife though, think about it.” Temari piped in. “All that nagging and having to do everything her way blah blah.” 

“Well, Shikamaru seems to be completely fine with Ino.” Tenten winked and gave a sly look to her long haired blonde friend. 

“Oh shut up, we aren’t a thing. We’re just hooking up here and there and we enjoy each other’s company.” 

“Well I bet 50 that they’ll end up together!” Ino shot a look at Tenten.

“Honestly I’d be happy if you guys date Pig, you’ve known each other for a while and he is actually a nice person.” Sakura thought of them dating, and she had always rooted for them to eventually end up together. Ino furrowed he brows. 

“Maybe Ino just wants to just leave it as it is?” Hinata, usually just an observer, added. “I’m happy you’re having fun though!”

“Okay enough about me guys. My love life is always a hot topic but it gets tiresome when-” Ino flipped her hair back dramatically, “-its always about me” she grinned and sat prettily. 

“Yeah oh my god Hinata how are you and Naruto!” Tenten squealed like a little 15 year old girl. Hinata blushed at the question, she was usually more reserved when talking about her personal life.

But Sakura could feel a tightness in her chest at hearing that name. 

Hinata noticed this, and smiled softly. 

“We’re doing really good. It’s been about 2 months and he’s already met my family.” Hinata made sure to keep it short for her pink haired friend. She knew there was a lot to unpack there and hadn’t expected Tenten to carelessly bring that name about. 

“Awh, you guys are honestly so cute. It makes me happy knowing that 2 of us here are having good and fun love lives.” Tenten sighed as she slid next to Temari. 

“Let’s not talk about me though!” Hinata waves her hands off nervously. “My relationship isn’t very interesting, we all know about it!” She glanced at Sakura, who was fumbling with her fork and pasta. Ino noticed it too and caught on to redirect the conversation. 

“Sakura! So, found that mystery hot makeout session boy in Kyo yet?” Ino grinned nudging her best friend.

“Ah?” Sakura woke up from a trance. 

Fuck. She didn’t like falling in and out of conversation and her thoughts like this. It was really tiring and disorienting. 

“Kyo guy!” Tenten giggled back.

“Oh you know what, maybe? I met this guy today and he said he recognised me-”

“What?! You’re only saying this now?? Bitch the fuck!!” Ino’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped to the floor. 

“What’s his name?” Temari asked amidst all the shocked faces.

“Well uh..I met 3 guys. The guy who I think could be the one I met at Kyo is Itama. Then I met Sasuke’s brother and another Uchiha. Shisui if I remember right.” Sakura remembered. They were all really friendly guys.

“Was it at that meeting today?” Ino asked.

“Yeah, Madara knows like all three of them personally. Madara’s Itachi’s uncle. And I think Madara also knows Itama’s family? Or something? Honestly I’m not sure.” It was confusing to be fair. 

“Even I’ve never met the famous Itachi…” Ino muttered. “So, Itama was it?”

“Yeah. He’s got like brown hair with silver highlights and it’s not done well I can tell you that.” Sakura scoffed. “He said he recognised me because he’s seen me in the club.”

“Ah but everyone here goes to all the clubs. Your pink hair sticks out so he probably just remembered that.” Temari waved her hand and looked at Sakura before smirking. “Was he cute though?” 

“I mean..he was actually pretty cute...in a boyish charming kinda way.” All the girls had wide smiles on their faces.

“Will Sakura finally find the one?!” Ino shrieked.

“Is this Kyo club makeout boy?!” Tenten added.

“Will Sakura go on dates again?!” Temari furthered the questioning.

“Stay tuned to find out!” Hinata closed the statements clapping her hands together. It was followed by her kind smile and all the girls laughing- the atmosphere was light and warm between them. The girls, all 5 of them, shared a strong bond. 

Sakura smiled at their jokes, but she also knew they genuinely wanted her to be happy. All of them understood how hard it was for Sakura to engage in meaningful conversations with boys; her anxiety and defenses would instantly go up if a boy approached her on campus. Which was why they were all so interested in ‘Kyo club makeout boy’ who Sakura -though very drunk and out of it -chose to instigate a hot kissing battle with. 

However happy they were for her -and she was appreciative of this, don’t mistake that - it was hard to see herself dating again. It was a scary thing to think about, even though deep down she wanted to fall in love, again. She missed being in love, and the last time she was - she was unlucky. 

--

There was a knock at Sakura’s door. 

“Just come in!” Sakura yelled from her desk spilling with notes from lectures. The door opened revealing Ino in her flowery satin nightdress. 

“Almost done?” The blonde sat on Sakura’s double bed that was messily covered in her grey covers detailed with white and pink sakura trees. Looking at Sakura - who was dressed in her oversized Neck deep tee - Ino could see she was stressed; but this was often how Sakura looked. It worried Ino.

“Yeah - I’ll get to bed soon.” Sakura muttered, completely focused on her assignment. Scribbling away, her desk lamp was bright and boring into her papers and laptop screen; her jade eyes were tired and her eyelids weighed heavy. She sighed. She wasn’t taking care of herself with all of these late nights. 

She was tired of feeling this way.

“Do you need me to stay? Ino asked. “I can’t really sleep either... I’m just feeling a little off as well.” Sakura turned to look at her, not sure what she was saying.

“Yeah..of course. What’s..wrong?” Sakura asked, turning around from her work. Ino shuffled uncomfortably and crossed her legs on the bed. Had Sakura been so caught up in her own head that she completely ignored her best friend? Was Ino hiding it well or was Sakura that selfish?

“The whole talk earlier about Shikamaru...it just made me uncomfortable.” Ino paused. Sakura had completely forgotten and internally facepalmed herself. “I don’t like him that way. And you know how I feel about relationships.” The issue here was that Ino didn’t want to settle down, and Sakura would often bring up relationships to Ino - about how Ino should get in a relationship. Sakura knew that her friend was a strong and confident person, but had taken that for advantage and pressed on Ino’s insecurities.

“Fuck I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have projected my own wants of being in a relationship onto you..” Sakura muttered, guilt strung in her words. Her head was swirling and she felt horrible. Why was she such a bad friend? People always had to support her, people always had to help her, and she couldn’t even keep her own mouth shut. Why was Sakura such a fucking shit friend- and to Ino who had been there for her every step of the way. 

“No it’s okay, I just felt weird talking about it and I know I won’t date him. I just don’t want to get into a relationship.” Sakura’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but her head was heavy with guilt. “Hey, honestly don’t feel too bad about it at all. I came to also just sit with you. I knew you were uncomfortable too.”

Ino could pick up on Sakura’s discomfort, and Sakura couldn’t even do the same for her friend. She didn’t deserve Ino. 

“Yeah. The whole Naruto thing kinda just made me space out.” Sakura ducked her head as she moved to sit next to her best friend. “It’s just...it hurts to think about it sometimes.”

“You know, I think if you tried to talk to him now he would be all for it. You know how much he cares about you. Heck he loves you as much as I do.” Ino’s head fell into Sakura’s neck to remind her that she wasn’t alone. 

“Maybe one day I can. When I’m better.” Sakura muttered, wanting to believe it could happen. She wanted it to, but somewhere inside, she didn’t want it to. 

“Well, when you’re feeling good, or bad, and on your best and worst days I’m here for you okay?” Ino smiled reassuringly. 

“I know.” Sakura smiled in response. “I...I also emailed welfare for a session…its in 2 days” Ino jumped up and looked at her friend. 

“You did?” Sakura nodded smiling. “I’m so proud of you! That’s a really big step! I can’t wait” Sakura was met with a loving hug and giggled in response. “I am so proud of you. I’m coming with you okay?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I am.” 

Sakura thanked Ino. That night, Ino slept on Sakura’s bed to make sure Sakura slept alright and that she would feel at ease falling asleep. Ino missed being at peace with her best friend, and she just wanted the best for Sakura. 

There were no other two best friends like those two. 

--

She doesn’t even know why she’s here at this point. Why did she volunteer to do this? 

Sakura groaned internally, her back against the wall. She was standing in the hall filled with college students, and she was lined up on the sides of the hall with other volunteers. She slept pretty late last night, but she was glad she managed to get sleep anyway. The anxiety and self-deprecating thoughts always snuck their way into her head when she wanted to find peace in slumber; but she felt like she deserved it anyways.

It was just exhausting. 

“Oh I think he’s finally about to end his speech.” Shisui spoke. 

“Finally.” Itama yawned. “We gotta gather the students and call the groups after this.” Itama looked at Sakura, expecting an answer from his group partner. She was looking at Izuna presenting, but her mind seemed elsewhere. 

“Honestly, Madara talks a lot, but Izuna can go on forever. At least Madara is able to get straight to the bush rather than beat around it.” Shisui huffed. “Don’t know how Sasuke and you dealt with uncle Izuna over summer.”

Sakura woke up. Sasuke?

Itachi noticed.

“We were fine. It wasn’t hard.” Itachi shrugged his shoulders.

“And now your tour shall start. The volunteers will bring you around campus and the facilities - they’ll call you by name so when they do please stand up and come on stage.” Izuna closed signalling a thumbs up. 

“Aight, that's our cue Sakura.” Itama nudged her with a grin. 

He had such a boyish grin, Sakura thought. 

“Lets round up the kids.” She joked, a more confident part of her showing. Itama looked at her, amused.

Gathering their group, Sakura felt a little out of place. She had to remind herself to be confident, to just go with it, and that she would be fine. A little speaking wouldn’t hurt her and she chose to do this, so she had to live up to it. 

“So here we have our main cafeteria. Conveniently close to the Student Union, so it’ll be easy to grab lunch.” Sakura walked the students through the food hall. It was large and circular shaped, and it smelled like damn good food. 

“It’ll be easy unless you’re studying art.” Itama joked. “Which none of y’all are, so it’ll be an easy quick lunch!” he winked, earning him a laugh from the younger people. Sakura smiled. This Itama boy had charm, that much she knew. “Alright so that concludes the main campus. We’ve just got the facilities left in our building.” he led the way. 

Itama was so confident, and so happy. He carried himself so well and just by the way he walked, you knew he was someone whose company people enjoyed. 

“Oh yeah we’re passing the main Law building, if any of you were interested in what’s that big old rusty building. It’s the Law building. Just one of their buildings.” Itama pointed to a very wide and stretched out red brick build. 

Laughs, and a lot of them. 

“They like you.” Sakura noted, walking by Itama’s side. She peered to see his reaction which wasn’t any less than what she expected from the boy. A toothy grin. He may be older, but sometimes she swore he was 15. 

“I’m just a likable guy haha! They like you too, you know. You speak very well.” he replied pointing backwards to their walking group of students.

“Oh no, I really don’t.” He looked at her with a really-bitch-? Face. “Alright, I guess..yeah I can speak quite well. But I’m not as confident as you.”

“What? Really? You seem really confident to me.” That earned him a sweet laugh. He suddenly felt a jump in his stomach.

“I’m not. I can be, but I doubt myself a lot.” They were close to the building entrance. “You also don’t really know me.” She pointed out, opening the doors to their building.

“Okay everyone, we’ll take you to labs first.” Itama announced to the buzzing group, before turning to Sakura. “Well then, can I get to know you?” he swung his phone out. 

--

“Did you get her number?” Shisui asked, slinging an arm around his two friends. 

Itama looked at the pink haired girl across the lecture hall.

“No, I didn’t.”

#sakura #sakura haruno #sakura fanfiction #sakura fanfic #sakura haruno fanfic #madasaku #itasaku #itama #its itama not itachi #i know itachi is bby dw #tobirama #tobirama senju #madara uchiha #slow burn #tobisaku #he didnt get her number #sad reaccs #i cant write #i dont write well #but this is fun #i hope i did well #criesinincompetence #itachi #sasusaku #kinda #not really #sasuke #madara #seeds that grow #seeds that grow fanfic

[junkyuholic]

hii can i request something? a yedam imagine hah au : 8 - college!au, trope : 9 - strangers to lovers and prompt : 22 "did you hack into my hotspot?" i imagined it as their dorm being next to each other thanks in advance🥰❤

omfg it’s been ages since ive written so tysm for requesting!!! I hope you liked this <3

Bang Yedam - “did you hack into my hotspot?” college au! strangers to lovers!

You were running to the college’s library, you were in desperate need of wifi, as you had a 2000 word essay awaiting you, it’s due date within only a few hours. Instead of finishing the essay slowly over time, you had decided it would be best to procrastinate, leaving it to the very last minute which always lead to you crying because the stress became to hard to handle. But you always did get the job done with passing grades - the very minimum you achieved.

Right as you were about to open the door that lead to unlimited wifi, that you so desperately needed, a sign had stopped you “LIBRARY CLOSED DUE TO UNSAFE ELECTRICITY PROBLEMS”. Screaming internally, you wished you had gotten electrocuted right then and there, not only would you have recieved compensation from your college but you would have also been excused from handing up the essay due.

You decided to go back into your dorm and text your family if they were home, as you were texting your family. While going up the stairs, holding onto your laptop with your arm wrapped around it, the worst thing that could’ve happened, had happened. Not watching your stepping on the steps you had almost slipped, to prevent yourself from falling down, you had held onto the railing on the right side of you, the side that was holding onto your laptop. You thanked the gods for saving you but within the same moment all you could do was watch your laptop go rolling down the stairs, you cringed every single time it made a sound while going down each step.

As the falling of the laptop came to an end, you basically sprinted down the stairs to see if the damage was serious, and the damage was beyond repair. Your laptop was now in pieces and all you could do was stare at it in horror. You picked up whatever was left of the laptop and quickly made your way to your dorm. There was no time to cry over your laptop, you had a 2000 word essay due in less than 2 hours and if you couldn’t use your laptop to type it up, you were going to use your phone. Which had no access to any wifi or had any data whatsoever.

You knew it was morally wrong but you were beyond desperate right now, the essay awaiting completion was 70% of your grade, if you got good marks on this, you wouldn’t even need to worry about any other assignments or essays or even quizzes, and probably skip class for the rest of the semester, because you knew that was all possible, only if your phone had data so you could finish the essay.

You decided to hack into somebody’s hotspot, to be even more specific, you had decided to hack into your dorm neighbours hotspot, you didn’t know him particularly well, and he wasn’t even in your course. But you were sure he wouldn’t mind if you used a little bit of his data, right? So you did the morally wrong and hacked into his hotspot, wasn’t that hard either as his password was ‘shawnmendes’ and you could always hear him singing his songs through the dormitory walls, he was pretty good but that was beside the point, you quickly got to work and started typing up your essay - which was now due in less than 3 hours.

Finishing off your references, you had completely finished your essay with 10 minutes to spare, now all you had to do was submit it-

KNOCK KNOCK

Loud knocking was coming from the front door of your dorm, you sighed in annoyance as you had to quickly submit your essay so you could be in peace, but the person on the other side of the door was clearly not happy. Walking to the door while yawning you opened your door, about to lecture the person who was knocking when your words got caught up within your throat. It was your neighbour, the neighbour which you had hacked into his hotspot, and used his data for almsot the past 3 hours. You gulped in fear and decided to act dumb.

“Hi, it’s Yedam rig-“

“Did you hack into my hotspot?” Your neighbour asked, cutting you off completely.

“What?! No way! Why would I do that?” It was the only way you could get out of this, the amount of data you used would take you weeks of committed working to pay it off.

“Oh really? I’ll cut it off right now the-“

“No! Please don’t I beg you, I still have to submit my essay!!” Screw acting dumb, you’re desperate, you probably only now had 7 minutes to submit it to him, the sumbition of the task wouldn’t even take a minute, all you had to do was email the essay to your professor and then you were done, but your neighbour was obviously not letting you get off the hook.

“So you did hack into my hotspot?” It was a rhetorical question, you didn’t even have to verbally answer it but you did anyways.

“You really need to let me submit it cause I’ll be losing 70% of my grade if I don’t at least hand it up.” You had 5 minutes left, you were doomed. In his hand he was holding his phone with his thumb hovering over the ‘disconnect’ option, the second he pressed the ‘disconnect’ its completely over for you, all your hard work goes down the drain and the reason of it all would be because your neighbour... and because you decided to leave the essay to last minute, but that’s really beside the point here. You just turned around and ran to your phone, quickly submitting it, you didn’t care at this point, you only had a few minutes left before the deadline.

Letting out a sigh of relief you saw that the essay had been sent to your teacher, but turning back around you saw your neighbour gone, deciding to take a nap to sleep all the unnecessary stress away. Later that night, you got up, got ready and decided to go and try and get your laptop repaired, the option of getting it repaired was cheaper than getting a new one anyways. As you were exiting your dormitory, you see your neighbour, standing there with something behind his back.

“Morni-“ he started off before quickly being cut off by you.

“I am so sorry about hacking into your hotspot, and I know I used a lot of your data, I promise I’ll pay it ba-“ this time he interrupted you.

“You can pay me back by doing three things for me.”

“One, I want you to give me your broken laptop.” He took one step closer to you.

“Two, I want you to accept the laptop that I’ve brought for you.” He took two more steps closer.

“Three, let me buy you dinner.” He took three more steps closer.

Both his and your face were crimson red, “I’m sorry you don’t have to do any of these things if you don’t wan-“

“Deal.” You breathed out with a small smile on your face, his worried expression turning into one similar to yours.

“I’m Yedam.”

“I’m Y/N.”

The day that you considered ‘the worst day of my life’ wasn’t really the worst day of your life, despite having your laptop broken into pieces and almost having a heart attack because you almost didn’t hand up your essay, the day ended with you going on a date with your neighbour, Yedam, who was now your boyfriend of one year. Maybe it was fate or maybe it was a coincidence, whatever it was, you were beyond lucky to be blessed with a boyfriend like him, he was the same, beyond lucky to have you as his girlfriend.

#ygtb #treasure #treasurebox #ygtb imagines #treasure imagines #treasure scenarios #ygtb scenarios #yedam #bang yedam #ygtb reactions #ygtb yedam #treasureboxreactions #treasure box headcanons #treasure 13 reactions #treasure 13 #yg treasure box #ygtbnet #college au #strangers to lovers

[arizonaconservativegal]

Hi, I was wondering if you could explain to a non-American what is happening/has happened with this whole impeachment stuff? I’ve tried looking through new reports, but they’re all heavily left-wing biased.

Ah heck, I really haven't been following it because there is zero chance they are going to remove the president but I'll do my best. Also I apologize if this is over explained but I'm not sure if it's the process you're confused about or the details of this specific case so I'm going to try to explain both.

Alright so Congress is made up of two bodies of elected officials, the House of Representatives and the Senate. The president is entirely separate from Congress, but the two oversee each other. Impeachment is one of Congress's options for handling a president who has violated his oath of office and it functions a little like a criminal trial.

The House of Representatives investigates and determines if there is enough evidence to suggest there might have been a crime (kind of like how a grand jury would decide if a case would move to an actual trial). They hold investigative hearings and call witnesses to help them determine if a crime has been committed and if so, what that crime was. This has been going on for several weeks now and if you hear the term "impeachment inquiry," this is what it refers to.

The House then draws up the Articles of Impeachment, which you can think of as an indictment in a criminal trial. They lay out all of the charges the president is facing and a simple majority (50% plus one) must approve each of them. This vote happened last week.

In this case, Trump is facing charges of abuse of power and obstruction of Congress. Allegedly, he abused his power by threatening to withhold aid from Ukraine if they did not investigate a political rival (Joe Biden) and he may have obstructed Congress by instructing his staff not to comply with Congressional subpoenas.

If I can insert my own commentary here, these charges are excuses rather than reasons for impeachment. House Democrats have been looking for anything they can possibly use against Trump since before he was even inaugurated. This whole thing is flimsy at best and a mockery of our constitution with unconsidered consequences at worst.

Once the House votes to approve the Articles of Impeachment, the president is officially considered "impeached" but not yet removed from office. The paperwork is sent over to the Senate where the president will stand trial and it is up to the Senate to determine if the president should be convicted and "sentenced" to removal from office. This requires a two-thirds majority vote of the Senate. I should note that although this functions like a criminal trial, it is not technically a true criminal trial so if the president is convicted, he could still face actual criminal charges and potential jail time later on after he has been removed from office.

The hang up right now is that the House of Representatives is controlled by the Democrats who hate the president, but the Senate is controlled by the Republicans who are generally more fond of the president because he is also a Republican. The House has voted to approve the Articles of Impeachment, but they are currently refusing to deliver the documents to the Senate because the president's allies there are not likely to convict him.

I have to be honest, I have no idea if the House Democrats will be able to avoid delivering those papers to the Senate and I'm not really clear on what happens if the Senate never officially receives them. As far as I know, this has never happened before. I'm actually more interested in how that piece of the fight plays out than anything else so far.

But if the Senate trial does get started, Mitch McConnell (as the head of the majority party in the Senate) gets to decide what happens next. And if there is one thing you should know about Mitch McConnell it is that he is one devious son of a bitch and he knows every single Senate rule backwards and forwards and isn't afraid to exploit them especially if he feels the Democrats have already been playing unfairly. I have to say I respect and fear him immensely for it.

So basically there are two options for McConnell once he receives the paperwork:

#1: he can table it in favor of working on more pressing matters and the entire thing stalls. No hearings are held, no votes are taken, no one is removed from office. Trump is still technically impeached but who cares because nothing ever comes of it (at least until the Democrats take control of the Senate but let's be honest, if they manage that in 2020, Trump's done for anyway)

Or #2: he can proceed to trial. I think he will pick this route. There are very few rules in a Senate impeachment trial. McConnell gets to call any witness he likes, bar anyone from testifying that he wants (which is something the Democrats already did on the House side so you can bet McConnell feels this is a completely fair strategy at this point), ask any questions he wants, and drag the whole thing out as long as he pleases. Sure, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court gets to preside over the whole circus, but that guy is a Republican too so I wouldn't count on him to be much help to the Democrats.

Now the thing to remember here is that Democrats currently have 5 presidential candidates who are members of the Senate, plus Joe Biden who is very much at the center of all the allegations against Trump. So McConnell can tie up every single one of these people in months and months of hearings during election season, meaning they can't be out on the campaign trail. In fact, federal law prohibits them from doing any campaign activities while on the premises. No fundraising calls, no strategy meetings with staff, no checking email even. Nothing. They can grandstand as much as McConnell lets them during the trial, but it's not like C-SPAN is a popular channel these days. Every hour he has these guys in a hearing is an hour that is completely wasted for them during the most critical point in their campaign.

But there is something else here. Joe Biden is looking at least as guilty as Donald Trump in all of this. There is not a single thing to prohibit McConnell from calling ol' Joe and even Hunter Biden to testify. Defying his subpoena would be Obstruction of Congress (the very same thing Trump is charged with). If they do respond to a subpoena and testify, any crime they implicate themselves in would be fair game for a criminal trial. They would have little choice but to plead the fifth (constitutional protection against self-incrimination) and how do you think that would look to American voters? "Uh sorry, I can't answer that because it will make me look really guilty..."

If this thing ever came to a vote in the Senate (and that is a big if), a two-thirds majority would be required to convinct and remove the president from office. Two-thirds of the Senate is 67 Senators out of 100. There is no separate vote to acquit. If the vote to convinct fails to get the necessary 67 votes, the president is automatically considered acquitted and gets to stay in office.

The current Senate is made up of 45 Democrats, 53 Republicans and 2 Independents (although I think one of those two is Bernie Sanders who is running for president as a Democrat). Even if Democrats managed to pull a couple of Republican votes to their side, they wouldn't come close to that magic number of 67.

But just for fun, let's pretend this is Democrat Fantasy World and they do get 67 votes. What happens next? The US Constitution says that the president is then removed from office and the vice president takes his place. Which means Mike Pence would be the president. Mike Pence, the only person Democrats fear more than Trump because he is far more conservative and actually knows how to get things done in government. By the way, it's late enough in Trump's term that Pence could serve out the remaining few months of this term, run for the seat in 2020, and then run for re-election again in 2024 (constitution technically says a president may serve 10 years, this would put him at about 9). Do you hear that sound? That is the sound of me laughing until my sides hurt because if this happens, Democrats will have no one to blame but themselves.

Oh and if they want to impeach Pence too? The entire process starts over. Good luck guys.

TL;DR: Congress got tired of actually doing its job and decided to waste a lot of time and resources on a dog and pony show. Nothing is actually going to come of it.

[aroworlds]

The Vampire Conundrum, Part One

When Rowan Ross is pressured into placing an aromantic pride mug on his desk, he doesn't know how to react when his co-workers don't notice it. Don't they realise he spent a weekend rehearsing answers for questions unasked? Then again, if nobody knows what aromanticism is, can't he display a growing collection of pride merch without a repeat of his coming out as trans? Be visible with impunity through their ignorance?

He can endure their thinking him a fan of archery, comic-book superheroes and glittery vampire movies. It's not like anyone in the office is an archer. (Are they?) But when a patch on his bag results in a massive misconception, correcting it means doing the one thing he most fears: making a scene.

After all, his name isn't Aro.

Contains: One trans, bisexual frayromantic alongside an office of well-meaning cis co-workers who think they're being supportive and inclusive.

Content Advisory: This story hinges on the way most cishet alloromantic people know nothing about aromanticism and the ways many trans-accepting cis people fail to best communicate their acceptance. In other words, expect a series of queer, trans and aro microaggressions. There are no depictions or mentions of sexual attraction beyond the words "allosexual" and "bisexual", but there are non-detailed references to Rowan's previous experiences with romance.

Length: 2, 951 words (part one of two).

Note: Posted for @aggressivelyarospec‘s AggressivelyArospectacular 2019.

What is pride merch for if not petty passive-aggression in response to allo folks’ amatonormativity?

Beset by dizzying anxiety, Rowan places a green mug, printed on one side with a five-striped flag, on his desk. Done. He exhales and takes another furtive glance around the poky ten-desk office, but only Shelby sits close and she’s too busy peering at her computer to notice him. There: mug at work! Right where people can see! He grabs his phone, snaps a quick photo to send as proof to Matt and then, before anyone can ask about the mug or Rowan’s behaviour, moves it beside his pen caddy, the handle angled to hide the stripes.

Why does he have to be this scared? Everyone knows he’s trans. Hormones aren’t yet magical enough to give Rowan cis-unquestioned masculinity; coming out felt less damaging than constant misgendering. At the same time, being trans is why he feels like to pass out from nervousness. The initial slew of queries, concerns and clarifications, followed by daily episodes of cissexism, isn’t something anyone should care to repeat!

Trans identity, after the passing of marriage equality, at least possesses the dubious state of being the new conservative-favourite punching bag. Before he sent Damien his “I accept the position, by the way I’m trans” email, few people here would have been ignorant of Rowan’s theoretical existence.

Aromanticism, by contrast, requires more than revelation: it requires conceptualisation.

He thought he was prepared, last time.

Rowan Ross, master of whiteboards and planners, came for his first day armed with a list of resources and print-outs of an article he wrote for his university’s student magazine. He’d written out answers to likely questions and rehearsed them at his mirror. He wasn’t going to have another panic attack when faced with questions he couldn’t answer. He was going to be fine.

Instead, he learnt again that one can’t prepare for all the shapes of cis ignorance.

Hesitating to mention his aromanticism because being out as trans already ramps up the difficulty of his working life shouldn’t be cowardly. Why can’t Matt see that?

He stares at the mug, dizzy. Damien may not notice the striped flag, but Shelby uses anything as an opportunity to provide unneeded reassurances. Melanie has enough enthusiastic, unrestrained curiosity for ten people!

I read that trans men bind their chests. Is it comfortable? Do you do it every day? Are you allowed to wear a bra when you don’t?

Rowan shudders. No. He’s survived her interrogations; can’t he survive this, too? He practiced a short explanatory speech, made an email-ready digital PDF booklet and packed printed versions inside his satchel. He rehearsed his responses to as many provocative and prying questions as possible, including the line I’d rather not answer that. Maybe it won’t be as bad, this time! Maybe they won’t notice immediately, giving him more time to prepare and anticipate. Melanie doesn’t come back until next month; perhaps this mug, so bright and green, will pass unremarked until then.

Does the want to return it to his bag make Matt right?

Rowan touches the handle for luck and wonders if this will go better should someone not Melanie ask first.

***

“Good morning, everyone!” Melanie breezes through the office in an aura of floral-with-vanilla perfume, making a beeline for Rowan’s desk. She’s small, curvy and grandmotherly-but-modern in appearance: coloured slacks and loose floral-print blouses worn with dangling gold pendants and stacks of bangles over freckle-dusted forearms. Aside from her pixie-cut grey hair, she looks to him like a walking Millers advertisement. “Rowan, can you tell me how to put the new logo in my email again? Please? I know you told me last time.”

Rowan doesn’t understand why people who send emails on a daily basis don’t take the time to learn these things, but he’s worked here long enough to accept this lack as a fundamental truth of the universe. He turns to face her, his flag mug held in his right hand. “Do you want the instruction PDF I wrote, or do you want me to just do it for you?”

A few months ago, caught up in a fit of hopefulness inspired by a new SSRI and the less-inspiring reality of being the youngest person in the office, he spent his spare time typing up Rowan Ross’s Ultimate Guide to Basic Office Computing—a guide languishing unread by anyone not Rowan.

“Just fix it for me now.” Melanie beams at him, paying his mug no attention. “Thanks, Rowan!”

What will it take for someone to notice? Pouring his coffee on their shoes? He swallows the dregs, stands and follows Melanie to her computer before setting his mug on her desk, flag facing outwards, to take up her mouse and open her email settings.

To think he worried about someone’s asking questions! Rowan didn’t consider the problem of a lack of interest, but he’s spent the last five weeks drinking from a flag mug without as much as a passing glance.

“You’re a doll, Rowan!” Melanie hesitates; Rowan holds back a sigh. Here it comes. “Wait. Is that offensive, even though there’s male dolls, like Ken? And gay men collect dolls, don’t they? But gay men like feminine things and you don’t when you’re trans-gender, do you? You’re a darling? I know! You’re a treasure.” Melanie grins, as though she didn’t make an easily-overlooked statement into a thing shaded with too many queer microaggressions for one bi trans man to untangle, and grasps his mug. “I’ll get you some more coffee! One sugar, a dash of milk! Thank you so much!”

Her pink-painted nails and beige hands cover the flag, only a small section of black and grey visible at the edge of her pinky finger.

Maybe she’ll notice when she fills the mug.

Maybe she’ll notice when she brings it back to him.

Maybe pigs will fly and she’ll stop placing that too-long pause between “trans” and “gender”, too.

This way, there’s no need to endure alloromantic absurdity or criticism. No suffering the pain of being unable to explain or correct, given how often cis people dismiss even small gender-related requests. He did what Matt demanded; he left the mug on his desk. How is it Rowan’s fault that nobody’s knowledgeable enough to express curiosity? That he forgot to factor in the remarkable cishet tendency to avoid anything suggestive of unknown queerness?

Going ignored, somehow, doesn’t feel like a victory.

***

When Rowan sees a mug online featuring a shield in aromantic colours behind a design of crossed arrows in pride colours for other aromantic-spectrum identities, he snatches one with frayromantic blues. He also buys an unneeded but matching pencil case followed by a journal covered with rows of arrows coloured in aro stripes.

If he needn’t fear curiosity or question, why not pride up his desk? At least he can gulp coffee from a frayro mug emblazoned with an aro shield every time Shelby asks him if he’s found a partner yet.

What is pride merch for if not petty passive-aggression in response to allo folks’ amatonormativity?

A fortnight later, he arranges his mugs on his desk, stashes his decorative paper clip collection in the pencil case and ponders, just for a moment, if anyone’s made a pride-themed whiteboard.

“Rowan!” Damien appears out of nowhere and claps his hand on Rowan’s shoulder. He’s a raw-boned giant of a man with an improbable ability for stealth; Rowan, cursed with a body that reacts to unknown stimuli as though lethal rather than first checking, still can’t keep himself from jumping out of his chair on Damien’s approach. “I’ve got this photo from last night I want for Facebook. Can you crop out an arm from the side for me? I just sent it to you.”

“Sure,” Rowan murmurs, once his heart stops threatening to burst from terror. “I’ll do it right now.”

“Thanks. I’ll get you a coffee.” Damien snatches up the new mug, tiny in his oversized hands. Rowan doesn’t care to imagine how much of Damien’s pay goes to custom tailoring, but his pinstripe suits are the living dapper embodiment of every How to Dress Like a Professional Man guide Rowan has read and failed to implement. “Huh. I didn’t know you were into archery. One sugar, little bit of milk?”

“Yeah. I … uh...” Rowan blinks, struggling to find an answer, but Damien heads for the hallway and the kitchenette they share with the rest of the floor. Archery? Surely none of the arrow designs are realistic enough for any archery enthusiast to regard them as an expression of interest for the sport? Not to mention the stripes?

How do cishets cultivate their air of continued obliviousness? They’ve all seen Rowan’s trans pride phone case and bi pride pin; nobody won’t have seen the rainbow flag in the news. Shouldn’t one of them catch on to the concept of pride flags?

Why complain when their ignorance is easier than their questions?

He shakes his head, opens his emails and finds the photo from yesterday’s event, complete with a stray arm on one side and a half an empty chair on the other. He crops out the arm and the chair before adjusting the contrast and colours, until the photo appears as though only maybe taken on a cheap phone, indoors, by a man with his back to the window.

“Hey, did you know that Rowan’s really into archery?”

Rowan looks up. Damien stands by the door, showing Melanie Rowan’s newest mug.

He should say something before he gets archery gear in the office Secret Santa. He should say something even though they’re on the other side of the room and a lifetime of good manners, parental expectation and disabling anxiety says one doesn’t intrude on someone else’s conversation. What if someone in the office secretly likes archery and asks him questions? But corrections mean doing the one thing Rowan hopes he can continue to avoid, so...

He slides his hands under his legs and inhales slowly in a vain attempt to head off the giddy anxiousness. Does this mistake desperately need fixing? Can’t he wait to see what happens first?

“Archery? How does anyone get into archery?” Melanie shakes her head. “You don’t do it in school. Is it a country thing? Or a rich kid thing?”

“I did. Year nine, I think? And my school wasn’t that fancy. I think kids do more of that stuff, now, than real sport.” Damien shrugs and heads towards Rowan’s computer, setting his mug down on the desk. “You fixed the lighting! I don’t suppose you can make my face less red? It isn’t that red in real life.”

It is, but that’s easier to fix than the burgeoning fear that this archery misconception won’t be a one-off incident.

***

Another awful conversation with his housemates pushes Rowan into getting out his sewing box, despite a Melanie-induced fear that showing himself to be good at a traditionally-female art will result in another expression of cis nonsense. Too many friends still ask why he buys plain T-shirts from the women’s section (better fit) or has lavender-scented shower gel on his shelf in the bathroom (he likes it). He’s a man to the not-completely-cissexist people in his life if he meets a boring, insecure definition of manhood. “Oh, great God of Trans Men,” he mutters, “please pardon me for the crime of unmasculinity, because everyone knows you don’t allow true men to embroider.”

How is cross-stitch not just analogue pixel art, anyway?

He flips off whomever it is Melanie thinks “allows” him to defy gender norms before sketching a pattern, struggling with the shape of the R. His embroidery floss stash doesn’t allow him to perfectly colour-match the greens, but after the best part of a weekend Rowan produces a patch reading “ARO” in aromantic stripes against a background of allo-aro yellow and gold. He needs another hour to stitch it to his satchel beside a cluster of badges (trans pride, pronouns, bisexual flag), but the finish is worth the late night and sore fingertips.

Surely this will tell people that those five stripes mean something more than a liking for archery or the colour green?

He fists his hands, lips trembling. What call does an allo cis gay like Matt have to mock the idea of coming out as aromantic when Rowan, who lost his home, his family and his dog to the mistakes he made in coming out, knows exactly what those words mean? Why did Matt have to say that “someone like Rowan” only put a lousy mug on his desk because he knew nobody will ask? Yes, he owns a collection of anxiety disorder diagnoses, illnesses fairly earnt, a disability unchosen. That doesn’t make him cowardly!

Matt doesn’t emerge from his bedroom before Rowan dashes to catch the train, so he lacks even the questionable satisfaction of seeing his housemate note the large patch on his bag. He’s just left with a mood bouncing between frustration, anger and the quieter, sickening fear that making the patch didn’t challenge Matt’s opinion as much as validate it. Should Rowan have done that? What else can he do?

Why does Matt have to be so damn allo?

By the time he arrives at the office, Rowan focuses just enough to concentrate on the distraction waiting for him in the kitchenette. The walls need painting and the air conditioning smells like mice, but sharing the floor with four other sub-governmental community projects meant everyone pitched in for a decent coffee machine without too many hassles. Damien needs to stop taking terrible work-related selfies, but he does enforce a cleaning rota so Rowan can enjoy avoiding the horrors of instant coffee.

“Aro?”

Groggy annoyance fades into a heart-pounding, palm-sweating, vibrant wakefulness. Rowan wheels to face Melanie; she peers at the satchel hanging off his hip. Matt’s wrong about Rowan. This will prove it!

“Uh, yeah,” he says, fighting to sound casual. “I’m aro.”

There. He said it!

“Oh, like the movie vampire?”

The movie vampire? What vampire? There’s no obviously-aromantic vampire in a well-known movie; someone online would have said so! “I’m sorry?”

“The Twilight movies! You know the ones the teenage girls liked, with the family of glittery, vegetarian vampires and the human girl? And it was supposed to be romantic somehow? My daughter had posters and a quilt cover and T-shirts and Barbie dolls.” Melanie pulls a face, her lips twisting. “But she loved them, and there’s a vampire called Aro.”

Belatedly, he remembers a joke that posts about a minor character used to turn up in aro hashtags. “I suppose? But it isn’t a name when—”

“Damien! Rowan’s called Aro now! Should we hold a meeting telling everyone? Or just send an email around?” Melanie looks out into the hallway dividing the floor into its suites of offices: Damien stands outside their door, his battered phone held to his ear. “I didn’t know trans people were allowed to change names twice! Although I don’t suppose there’s a limit, is there? If I married someone five times, I could change my last name five times, couldn’t I? Is it really that different?”

“It,” Rowan says into the barest break in sentences, “isn’t—”

“Damien! Stop gasbagging about golf or whatever … I swear, that man never listens when you want him. Always on the phone! Damien.” She bustles out into the hallway with the determined stride of a woman on a mission. “Rowan’s Aro now!”

Panic spurs him into running after her. “Melanie!”

“Aro!” Shelby grabs his forearm as Rowan skids into the hallway, her brow furrowed in concern. If Melanie seems like the plump, huggable sort of grandmother, Shelby looks like the muscular, marathon-running grandmother who hits the beach every morning. Salt-coarsened long hair in a single braid, a fashionable black blazer worn over a T-shirt, hiking boots. “Is that European? Don’t worry, we’ll all do our best to remember, and you’re allowed to growl when we don’t. We said there’d be no problem, and we meant it. You’re allowed to growl at us when we make mistakes, okay? Okay, Aro? Promise me that you will correct us!”

The self-appointed protector figure of the office, she was kind during Rowan’s first week. Kind in a way that draws unnecessary attention, given her inability to correct someone else’s misuse of pronouns without crafting a production of hushed voices and pointed nudges—followed by scathing lectures that never happen far enough outside his earshot.

Why are the only options complete stealth or queerness front and centre in a way that never lets him be just a different shape of normal? Where exists a blessed middle ground?

Melanie reaches Damien and stares up at him, waving one hand and tapping the opposite foot, until Damien lowers his phone.

“Uh … thank you, but my name isn’t—”

“You absolutely must correct us.” Shelby squeezes Rowan’s forearm in a firm grip. “We’re not used to all this, but that doesn’t mean we won’t try. Aro. Do you people usually choose unusual names like that? You know, you trans people? Promise me that you’ll correct us. You need to know that we don’t mind in the least, truly we don’t!”

“I’m not—”

“Anyway, how was your weekend? You didn’t stay at home, did you? It worries me that you haven’t found a girl yet. Or a boy!” Shelby clasps his hand between hers, looking into his eyes as though hoping to impress upon him the depth of her sincerity. “You do know, Aro, that any girl—or boy!—will be lucky to date a sweet boy like you, don’t you?”

What does it mean, Rowan wonders in irony-fuelled despair, that returning to Births, Deaths and Marriages now feels like the easiest option?

#aggressivelyarospectacular #aggressivelyarospec #aromantic #aro writing #alloaro #arospec creations #fiction #original fiction #original fiction and prose #contemporary #amatonormativity #cissexism #queer antagonism #romance mention #aromantic and bisexual #aromantic and transgender #k. a. cook #long post #very long post #extremely long post #physical intimacy #frayromantic #love mention

[katsens-writing]

And Life Goes On

A/N: This was written originally as an epilogue to See You Again but it was too long so I turned it into a mini-sequel/connected one-shot, whatever you want to call it. It takes place the day after the story ends. You should read See You Again first or else this wouldn’t make much sense. As always my asks and messages are open. If you want to be added to my Marvel taglist or any of my other ones, just let me know, it’s no trouble at all! Thanks again to @itsallavengers and @wisemanwhodoesntknow for the inspiration! (Sorry it took so long to get this part up guys!)

Summary: Tony makes amends and Peter puts his foot down.

Content: A little sadness, a tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff. Some mildly bad language? Let me know if I need to add anything. *This story contains a few references to Far From Home but they are not in themselves spoilery. If you have not seen it, read at your own discretion.*

Word Count: About 5.8k

See You Again, Part 1   Masterlist   Buy me a coffee?

---

     Tony yawned and stretched before getting out of bed. The sun hadn’t even started to rise yet but he had a busy day ahead of him and he needed to be up bright and early if he wanted to get anything done, or at least for the first part. He quietly got dressed before slipping out of the room, sneaking down the hall without a sound.

     “Boss, is something wrong?” FRIDAY’s sudden voice made Tony start.

     “Shh!” Tony winced. He’d manually set an alarm himself instead of having FRIDAY wake him up for a reason. He should’ve known that wouldn’t work. “Everything’s fine, Fri. Keep an eye on Pepper, let me know the second she wakes up, ok?”

     “Okay...” the AI’s response was drawn out in suspicion but she didn’t say anything. Her boss was acting strange but if he said nothing was wrong...

     Tony quickly snuck down to the kitchen and got to work gathering ingredients. “Flour, milk, eggs...” Tony muttered quietly to himself. “Chocolate chips... chocolate chips? Yeah, chocolate chips... bacon, fruit, granola...”

     45 minutes later FRIDAY chimed overhead. “Boss? Pepper just finished getting dressed. She’ll be down here any minute.”

     “Perfect!” Tony grinned, balancing two plates. He turned at a shuffling sound in the doorway.

     “Tony? What--” Pepper blinked tiredly. She stopped mid-sentence and mid-step. “What’s all this?” she asked, her eyes slightly wide.

     “Well, I felt bad about yesterday,” Tony began as he sat the two plates down on a marble top island. “And I wanted to apologize.” He straightened with a sigh and wiped his hands on a towel. He slowly walked around the island to Pepper.

     “I haven’t been the husband you deserve in quite some time and I’m sorry. You’ve stayed by me this whole time when everyone else in your place would’ve left, hell, even times I would’ve left,” he shrugged. Pepper looked at him with a small frown, her brow furrowing a little. He looked at her guiltily as he continued. “I don’t deserve you. I never have, and I don’t even hope that I ever will, because I know that it’s just not going to happen. I-” Tony sighed. “I have a lot to make up for, I know, and believe me, this is just the start.” Tony took Pepper’s forearms in his hands. “I love you, Pepper. I love you more than I can ever even hope to show you and I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been. You deserve so much more.”

     Pepper placed a hand on Tony’s cheek and looked at him with concern in her eyes, tears brimming them. His hands fell to her waist where they rested comfortably, just like he remembered. “Tony,” her voice cracked as her eyes filled with tears. “Tony, what’s going on?”

     “I promise I’ll tell you everything later,” Tony smiled, lifting a hand to her cheek and sliding an arm around her waist. “But first...” Tony lifted his chin and gently rested his lips on Pepper’s. Pepper closed her eyes, the fear and worry vanishing from her body. She wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck, and Tony tightened his arm around her waist, each pulling the other closer. Tear’s glinted along Pepper’s eyelashes. She didn’t know what was going on, but she had her husband back.

     After breakfast and a promise to Pepper to answer all her questions later, Tony excused himself. As he was heading down the hall to the elevator, he called out to FRIDAY.

     “Hey Fri, what’s on the schedule today?”

     “Your schedule today is clear boss,” the AI replied.”It's Saturday.”

     “Excellent! I’ve got some errands to run--” Tony stopped short just as the elevator door opened. “Actually... would you like to come with me, FRIDAY?”

     “Boss?” FRIDAY’s tone held more emotions in it than Tony had felt in the past five years... well before last night anyway.

     “Well?” Tony pressed, trying to suppress a smile.

     “Of course!” The AI replied excitedly.

     “Great! I have some stuff I have to do in the office first. I’ll meet you in the lab in 10,” Tony grinned. He stepped into the elevator and headed to the office floor. He stepped out into the reception area and was just a little surprised to see his receptionist there. She turned at the sound of the elevator.

     “Oh, Mr. Stark!” She started, clearly caught by surprise. “Sir! I- I didn’t know you were--”

     “What are you doing here?” he asked, his brow furrowed a little, not in anger but confusion.

     Her face flushed. “Well, I was a little behind yesterday and--”

     Tony lifted a hand and cut her off. “It doesn’t matter. You work so hard to keep this chaotic place running, definitely way harder than I have been the past couple of years. I want to apologize for that, I haven’t been a good boss in quite some time and I want to make it up to you. I’m giving you the next two weeks off with pay. If you decide to go anywhere, let me know and I’ll take care of the arrangements, ok?”

     Tony entered his office and closed the door, leaving behind his dazed receptionist standing in the hallway. He began leafing through some papers on his desk, putting some aside until he found what he was looking for. He picked up the business card and dialed the number. As the phone rang, he looked over the brochure. An amused huff escaped him as he listened to the energetic recording when the voicemail picked up. He left a message for the young entrepreneur saying he liked her presentation and that he would love to set up a meeting to get to know more about her business ideas. He left out the part about how she had already been approved for funding. He figured he’d tell her that in person.

     He sent a quick email to the board of directors about setting up a foundation for the firefighters and victims of the fire. He wanted to make sure that the little girl and her sister had a place to stay, as well as the others. He’d already called the hospitals and told them not to bill anyone connected to the fire; he’d see to those himself.

     He left his office and smiled to see his receptionist already gone. She probably figured she should leave quickly before her boss came to his senses. He hurried to the elevator and down to the lab. When the elevator doors slid open, he walked past the work tables and to the wall where his suits were held.

     Tony walked over to a small panel on the wall separate from the other and lifted his hand to it. Once it scanned his hand it beeped, and then he leaned forward for the retinal scan. The panel emitted a little chorus of musical beeps as the wall beside it split open to reveal a suit. Tony let out a low whistle as the lights around the new suit came on. It was sleek and low profile in his classic red and gold color scheme with black accents.

     “Boss?” FRIDAY spoke up questioningly.

     Tony grinned. “Perfect timing, Fri. It would seem Harley never got around to testing the new suit and I for one think that’s unacceptable.”

     “Well boss, Mr. Keener was--”

     “But you know what they say, if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” Tony continued as he powered up the suit. “What do ya say, Fri? Think you’re up for it?”

     “Yes, boss!” Tony’s grin widened at the excitement in the AI’s voice. He stepped into the suit and flexed his fingers as he adjusted to the fit and examined the controls. He heard a very faint hum as the computer systems came online.

     “You ready to go, Fri?” Tony inquired as he headed for the balcony and the launch platform.

     “All ready, boss!” The AI chirped.

     Tony chuckled at the AI’s voice. She sounded borderline giddy and he just couldn’t help it. “Then let’s go!”

     As Tony went above the city he noticed how smoothly the suit flew and how quiet it was. The controls responded like a dream and it was so comfortable and light he could almost forget he was even wearing it.

     “Harley really outdid himself,” Tony commented to FRIDAY. “How’s everything running on your end?”

     “I couldn’t agree more, boss,” FRIDAY agreed, sounding impressed. “The systems are all running great. I have to say, it’s one of the best suits I’ve seen... not better than yours though, boss, of course.” She added quickly.

     “Oh, of course,” Tony smirked, suppressing a snort. “Call Harley up, would ya Fri?” A soft dial tone filled the suit as the phone rang before a young man answered.

     “What the hell, Stark?” Harley started in way of greeting, immediately launching into his tirade. Tony rolled his eyes affectionately with a light smile. The background behind Harley moved quickly back and forth and Tony could only guess he was jogging somewhere.

     “You haven’t answered my texts in nearly two weeks, I reach out to you by actually calling you for once and you don’t answer, and then, then you call the next day in the middle of a--” Harley’s words were cut off as he dropped to the floor behind a desk. He ducked his head down and closed his eyes tight. When he opened them, he opened his mouth to continue delivering his riot act when he saw Tony’s bemused smirk that instantly stunned him into silence. He blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head, thinking he was imagining things. Tony looked like himself again, just like he had five years ago. As the shock wore off, he realized Tony wasn’t calling from his office.

     “Where are you?” Harley scowled, his brow furrowing as he recovered.

     “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Tony grinned.

     Harley scoffed and rolled his eyes at the smug look on Tony’s face before he gave a sharp cry and jumped to the side, dropping his phone. He quickly grabbed it and when he did, Tony could see he was now flat-out running.

     “Harley, what’s going on?” Tony’s grin disappeared and his voice grew serious. If the kid was in trouble, he wanted to know. He’d give him a riot act of his own later for not calling him sooner if he was.

     “Uh, nothing,” Harley quickly, instinctively replied. He immediately closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself for his reaction. He really is back to his old self, Harley thought. Tony was the only one who ever managed to get Harley to panic like that when he was in over his head. “I just, uh, had some kids over from the shelter and the group home for a tour of the compound lab.” His eyes widened as he dodged something. Tony saw an orange and yellow blur fly by the phone’s camera.

     “And how’s that going for you?” Tony smirked as he raised an eyebrow.

     “Shut up,” Harley growled much to Tony’s delight.

     “We can talk about it tomorrow at lunch. I’ll see you at 1 at Haab’s.”

     Harley opened his mouth to protest before his eyes widened in panic. “No, no, no! I said stay away from the muriatic--” he was cut off by a shattering crash. Harley swore. “I gotta go.”

     Tony chuckled after Harley hung up. Oh, he couldn’t wait to hear about this tomorrow. He’d send Harley a text later to remind him. “Hey Fri, is the Fire Safety Foundation headquarters still over on 58th?” he asked.

     “Yes boss, 27th floor,” the AI replied.

     Tony turned and headed for the building. As he got closer he saw the person he was looking for sitting at a table on the patio of what looked like a little outdoor break area for the employees of the building. As he flew lower, people below pointed up at him. He heard several surprised gasps and excited chatter following him as he went by. He landed on the patio a few feet from the woman’s table, much to her surprise, and disengaged the mask.

     “M-Mr. Stark!” The woman greeted as she wiped her hands on a napkin. She recovered rather quickly in spite of the shock still on her face. The woman she was sitting with remained quiet but her expression spoke volumes.

     “Ms. Kanick,” Tony grinned as he shook her hand. “It’s good to see you again. Sorry to interrupt your lunch ladies, I promise I won’t be long...” Tony nodded to the woman sitting across from Ms. Kanick.”

     “Oh, it’s fine, really, we’re, uh, just surprised to see you,” she replied, still a little stunned. “And please, call me Marissa.” She turned to the woman sitting across from her. “This is Angela Meyers, the assistant director.”

     “It’s an honor to meet you,” Tony smiled as he shook the woman’s hand.

     “It’s nice to meet you too,” Angela shook Tony’s hand uncertainly, shifting her eyes to Marissa in confusion.

     “Speaking of honor, that’s what I’m here to talk about,” he turned back to Marissa. “Since you took the time out of your very busy schedule to come and invite me in person, I thought it would only be fair to let you know in person that it would be my pleasure to be the guest of honor at the charity banquet.”

     “What- why that’s- that’s great, Mr. Stark, thank you!” Marissa stammered. Tony didn’t think it was possible but she looked even more surprised than when he landed by her lunch table.

     “No, thank you,” Tony looked at her meaningfully. “Your work has helped so many people, saved so many lives, more than you will ever know.” The woman smiled and lowered her eyes awkwardly, her cheeks flushing a little.

     Tony cleared his throat. “Sorry again about interrupting. It was wonderful to meet you, Ms. Meyers,” Tony smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few more stops to make.”

     Tony activated his thrusters and headed for the neighborhood he had visited the night before. As he flew over the familiar streets and alleys below, he spotted a little floral stand on one of the street corners. He landed several feet away from the stand, making sure not to mess up the flowers with the wind kicked up by the thrusters as he landed. He walked over to the stand and greeted the florist.

     “Hi, I’m looking for two of your best bouquets. Nothing too fancy or extravagant though, just something nice and simple.” Tony told the confused man before he started looking around at the flowers.

     “Uh, right...” the man slowly turned without taking his eyes off of Tony. “Well, I have some fresh roses in, the old fashioned ones. Or if you prefer something without a scent--”

     “Oh, these are nice,” Tony tilted his head and picked up some carnations.

     The florist glanced over with a raised eyebrow. “Sure, if they’re for your mom.”

     Tony looked at the man in confusion. “Huh?”

     The florist smirked as he took the bouquet from Tony. “Women like carnations but they don’t like to get carnations.”

     “Ah,” Tony replied. “Uh, you said something about roses?”

-

     After Tony paid for the roses he left, deciding to walk the rest of the way to his destination because it wasn’t far. He walked up to the familiar building and knocked on the front door.

     “Just a minute!” Came a warm voice. There was a light clattering noise and the sound of footsteps softly approaching and a brief pause before the door slowly opened.

     “Oh, Mr. Stark,” the woman gave a tight smile, her demeanor changing immediately.

     “Hi May,” Tony smiled back weakly. He felt a guilty pang in his chest at the change and the impersonal way she addressed him. It had been a while since he had seen Peter’s aunt. One of the many people he had forgotten about in his depression. May’s expression was unreadable but that in itself was enough. She was usually such a warm person, always smiling.

     Tony lowered his eyes guiltily. “I am so sorry about yesterday. I- I-” his voice cracked and he swallowed. May’s face softened, tears brimming her own eyes. Before Tony could recover, she had her arms around him and had pulled him into a gentle hug.

     “I know, Tony,” May hugged him tighter. “Losing him was hard on you too.”

     Tony closed his eyes tight against the tears forming and returned the hug. When they pulled apart he looked at May. “I know, but that’s no excuse. He was your nephew, practically your son...”

     May smiled at Tony sadly. “He was your son too,” she spoke softly.

     At that, the tears Tony had been fighting slipped down his cheeks and a small sob escaped him. May pulled Tony into another hug and they stood there on her front porch consoling each other. After a few minutes, May ushered Tony inside. He gave her one of the bouquets of rose. When she saw them, she accepted them, smiling through her tears. After putting them in a vase, they sat down and talked for a bit.

     “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you yesterday... or lately. I... I haven’t really been there for anyone since...” Tony’s voice trailed off. May put a comforting hand on his. He cleared his throat. “I thought- I thought maybe we could...” Tony looked down at the other bouquet of roses in his lap.

     “I would love that,” May smiled softly, her eyes moist. Within a few minutes, Happy had arrived at the house. When Tony and May walked down the steps, he greeted them with a smile.

    “Mrs. Parker, it’s lovely to see you again,” he opened the door for the two.

     “Hello, Happy,” May smiled.

     The three chatted about things as they drove. The neighborhood had changed so much since Tony had last seen it, even though it all looked the same from above. May pointed out the center she volunteered at on the weekends, saying they had expanded and just opened a new location in Brooklyn. Tony smiled. I’ll have to be sure to tell Steve and Peggy, I’m sure they’d love it. The pair may have retired long ago, but they still loved to stay active in the community, always volunteering their time.

     When the car pulled up to the gate, Happy got out and opened the door for them. “I’ll wait here for you guys. Take as long as you want.”

     “Nonsense,” May shook her head. “You should come. I mean, you’re welcome to, if you want... he loved you too, you know.”

     Happy smiled. “I would, thank you,” he spoke softly.

     Tony smiled warmly at Happy before turning to offer May his arm. The three of them walked arm in arm with May in the middle. It had been close to five years, but Tony knew the way. They wove their way among the graves and statues until they came to a stop at one underneath a large, beautiful oak tree, right beside Benjamin Parker’s. It was simple and understated, just the way he would’ve wanted it. The headstone read ‘Peter Benjamin Parker August 10, 2001- May 8, 2024. Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.’

     Tony knelt down and laid the roses on Peter’s grave. “Hey kid, it’s me. You won’t believe who I saw last night,” he chuckled weakly, his vision blurry. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I really let you down these past few years but... I promise, I’m going to do better from now on.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. I miss you, kid.”

     May’s eyes watered again at Tony’s words. When he straightened she gave him a sad smile. He gently put his arm around her shoulders. They stood there and looked over Peter’s grave. At the Avengers’ request on May’s behalf, fans of Spider-Man mostly left his grave alone, however, a small red and blue Spider-Man plushie had been left propped against the headstone. Tony’s brow furrowed as he noticed the blackened, dirty fabric. It almost looked charred in spots and it reminded him of his next stop.

     He turned to May and took her hands in his. “I’m really sorry to leave you May, but I have a few more places and people I have to visit. I’ll come by later this week and we can catch up, ok?”

     May nodded understandingly. “Thank you, Tony. I’ll see you then.”

     Tony turned to Happy. “Take her wherever she wants to go, Happy. I’ll meet you later.”

     Tony took off from the cemetery and headed for the hospital. On his way he had FRIDAY set a few reminders. “Hey, Fri? Remind me when I get back to the tower that I need to email Ms. Kanick to set up a meeting to discuss a yearly donation. Oh, and I need to text Harley about lunch tomorrow at 1. And don’t let me forget to call the Rogers! I haven’t seen them in forever and that worries me. They may be old but I swear, they need as much supervision as Harley does.”

     “Right, boss,” FRIDAY chuckled.

     “Here we are,” Tony spoke a little hesitantly as he landed outside the hospital. He stood outside staring at the building for a moment. He hadn’t been to the hospital since that night. He never really liked hospitals, even before that. Now he tended to avoid them like the plague.

     “Boss?” FRIDAY spoke up, breaking him from his reverie.

     “Hey, Fri, when is the board going to decide on the foundation?” he asked as he walked through the sliding doors.

     “Next week. They asked if you’d like to be there.” The AI replied.

     “Tell them I wouldn’t miss it,” Tony answered. He disengaged his mask as he approached the reception desk.

     “Hello. I’m here to see Carson?” Tony winced. He didn’t think it was going to work but he had to try.

     The person sitting behind the desk didn’t look up. They had dark skin, close-cropped hair and thick, black glasses frames with a navy blue top and a wide, red tie. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, hon,” they replied flatly, the clicking of their typing never even pausing.

     Tony sighed. “Yeah, I know. He’s a firefighter, he would’ve come in late last night, early this morning with his partner, Reyes...”

     “We had a lot of firefighters come in last night,” they interrupted, unimpressed. “There was a huge blaze over on Madison, the whole building came down.”

     “I know, I was there,” Tony replied, trying not to get frustrated.

     The person looked up at him before raising an eyebrow, the clacking on the keyboard finally stopping. “You’re Tony Stark.”

     “Yes,” Tony sighed exasperatedly. “I just want to see him, see how he’s doing.”

     The person’s face softened so slightly it was barely noticeable. “Your boy saved my kid brother in that fire five years ago.”

     Tony nodded. “Yeah, he probably did.” Tony didn’t mean to sound rude but he was tired.

     The person’s face softened a little more. “You saved that little girl last night too?” they asked.

     Tony’s eyes widened. “She’s here too?”

     They nodded, looking back to the computer in front of them and resuming their typing. “Her and her sister just left about an hour ago. She had the cutest little Spider-Man dress on. She was talking non-stop to all the nurses about how Iron Man saved her.” Tony thought he saw a faint smile on the person’s face.

     Tony smiled slightly to himself. He had hoped to see the little girl and her sister too, but if him missing her meant she was out of the hospital, he didn’t mind.

     Without looking up the person spoke. “Their chief came by not too long ago. If you take the south elevator up to the fourth floor, you still might catch him. Hard to miss.”

     “Oh, right, right,” Tony replied quickly, snapping out of his thoughts. “Thanks.” He turned and made his way for the south elevators. “South elevator, fourth floor...”  he muttered to himself as he pressed the button for the floor. “And then... wait. Which way?”

     The doors slid open and Tony looked to the right and left. He couldn’t see any sign of the fire chief but he heard a familiar voice followed by some laughter. He followed the sound to the right down the hall. The door was open and through it, he could see the firefighters he had met the night before. The men laughed at something and Reyes scoffed, shaking her head. Tony smirked and knocked on the door.

     “Hey, sorry for interrupting,” he spoke up as they turned, surprised. “I just wanted to stop by and say hi.”

     “Of course, come in!” Reyes stood up and waved him in. Carson looked a little confused.

     “Thank you,” Tony replied as he pulled up a chair next to Reyes’ chair. “So how are you feeling?” he addressed Carson as he settled in.

     “Fine, all things considered,” he shrugged weakly. “I inhaled a lot of smoke. The docs said it will take time for my lungs to clear. They’re keeping an eye out for signs of anything worse because it was an old building.”

     “They also said he’s not supposed to talk a lot,” Reyes glanced at Carson, crossing her arms. “And he’s supposed to keep that on as much as possible,” she added, indicating the oxygen mask.

     “C’mon, Reyes,” Carson turned and smiled tiredly at her. “You know how well I listen.”

     “Yeah, about as well as Rook,” she scoffed, putting the mask over his face. He began protesting but she glared at him and silenced him, swatting his hand away from the mask. he leaned back against the pillows reluctantly. He crossed his arms and sulked before wincing. His right arm was in a sling and his left shoulder was bandaged.

     “Speaking of Rook,” Tony turned to the bed next to Carson’s. He was filled with relief at the name and his shoulders eased but he didn’t let it show. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the young man in the bed. “Things got a little too toasty for you, huh?”

     “Maybe a little...” the young firefighter mumbled, lowering his eyes sheepishly. “Thanks for saving me.”

     Tony waved it off. “That was brave of you, finding that little girl and giving her your mask. Real stupid though. Brave but stupid. Why didn’t you stay out like your chief said?” he asked.

     The young firefighter shrugged. “I heard a woman calling for a little girl. She stopped an officer and asked if everyone had gotten out from the fifth floor and...” his voice trailed off. He looked up at Tony with a wince. “I just couldn’t leave her there. I couldn’t stand there and do nothing, not when I knew. Not when I could help.”

     Tony’s heart skipped at the young man’s words, but he hid it with a firm look. Oh my God, he sounds just like Peter, Tony thought. Terrifying. “Well, you’re definitely doing better than the last time I saw you,” he looked Rook up and down, remembering the young man lying in the ambulance, the paramedics fighting to save his life.

     He shook his head inwardly. “But next time, promise me you’ll keep the mask on, huh? It works better that way when you do.” Tony arched his eyebrows and Rook smiled sheepishly again, like a chastised kid. “Speaking of, you should probably have an oxygen mask on right now, yeah?”

     “He has tubes for his nose,” Reyes glared at the kid. “You keep taking ‘em out, they’re gonna put a full mask on you like Carson.” Reyes quickly glanced over at Carson, jerking his thumb in his direction, then looked back to Rook before doing a double-take. Carson gave her a sheepish grin which could be seen clear as day without his mask on.

     “I swear to God, Carson, I will duct tape that thing to your face, you pain in the ass!” Reyes practically climbed on top of Carson reaching for the mask but he pulled it out of her reach.

     “Aw, see Rook? She does care,” Carson grinned over at the young man who just shook his head as he dutifully put his oxygen tubes back in.

     Reyes glared at Carson and gripped his left shoulder firmly. “Ow ow ow! Ok, I give!” He protested painfully as he handed her the mask back.

     With intent focus, Reyes put it back over Carson’s mouth and nose. “Now keep it on!”

     “Yes ma’am,” Carson mumbled reluctantly, a hint of a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips. Reyes narrowed her eyes at him before shaking her head. Tony lowered his gaze to the floor to hide a smile. His eyes came to a rest on Carson’s left hand as he subtly entwined it with Reyes’ right hand. Tony glanced up at them, unnoticed as they continued to bicker. He smiled knowingly but didn’t say anything. He made a mental note to call their chief later and ask him a few questions.

     “I’m glad to see you’re all doing good. I’ll check in again with you guys later,” as Tony turned to leave, his gaze softened as it fell on Rook. The young firefighter had fallen fast asleep. Tony huffed softly. Peter could sleep through anything too. He quietly walked up to the young man and made sure the oxygen tube wasn’t pinched closed. The other firefighters noticed and paused their arguing, watching him closely. He looked over his shoulder at them as he stopped in the doorway. “Look after the kid, huh?” he jerked his head toward Rook, speaking to Carson. Cason nodded solemnly. Tony turned and looked at Reyes with a smirk. “And look after both of them.”

     Carson opened his mouth in protest and Reyes snorted. “Someone has to.” Tony chuckled with a nod. As he left the hospital, he flew back toward the tower.

     “Hey Fri? You up for one more task?” he asked.

     “Always, boss,” the AI’s Irish voice sounded eager.

     “I want you to find the best firefighting gear there is out there, everything from the trucks and equipment to their socks and underwear,” Tony ordered. “Find me the best there is and send me whatever you can get on it. Schematics, blueprints, patents, whatever. If you can get me samples, that’d be great. Have it all sent to the lab.”

     “Everything boss?” The AI asked incredulously.

     “Everything,” Tony replied firmly. “Don’t bother telling the board, this isn’t coming from the foundation.”

     “Well boss, you already have some of it. The fire extinguishers we keep in the lab are top of the line,” the AI informed him as he landed.

     Tony frowned and picked one up as he walked by it. “That’s not gonna fly.” He walked over to his table and sat the extinguisher down on it. His eyes widened a little as an idea came to him. With a tap on his chest, the suit opened and he stepped out. The suit automatically returned to its charging station but Tony didn’t even notice. He was too busy examining the extinguisher under a magnifying glass.

     “Fri? Find me whatever reports you can on this model. I want to know everything you can get on it,” he spoke before frowning. “Five-year shelf life? Please, I can double that at least.”

     “Boss?” The AI spoke up softly after a few minutes of silence.

     “Yeah, Fri?” Tony replied instinctively without even looking up, already lost in his work.

     “Wecome back.”

- -

     Peter stepped through the portal and was immediately greeted by Quentin and Fury.

     “Welcome back,” Fury leaned forward as Peter emerged, just like he always did when he returned from another dimension. “Anything new to report?”

     “How safe are these monitors?” Peter quickly crossed the room to Quentin, ignoring Fury’s question.

     Quentin raised an eyebrow indignantly. “They’re fully cloaked with built-in defense mechanisms. If they are ever discovered--”

     “No, how safe are they to be around?” Peter scowled angrily.

     Quentin crossed his arms and frowned. “Why?”

     “Because the apartment building the one on Madison was located at burnt down in a suspicious fire!” Peter exploded. Fury’s eyes narrowed at his words.

     Quentin’s frown deepened. “The devices are completely self-contained and self-powered. If you think--” Quentin stopped and his eyes widened. “Please tell me you didn’t interfere.” He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

     “Like hell I did!” Peter shouted, throwing his arms up. “What was I supposed to do, just stand there and let everyone?!”

     “I’m sure the locals could’ve handled it just fine,” Fury spoke up coolly, getting to his feet. “The fire department or the heroes.”

     “Yeah, about the heroes,” Peter turned on Fury, seething. He crossed the room until he was standing right in front of him. Maria tensed at Fury’s side, her hand twitching. “You didn’t tell me Spider-Man was dead.” Maria turned and looked at Fury, her eyebrows arching slightly.

     Fury looked down at Peter, unflinching. “We suspected but we weren’t sure. Either way, it had no bearing on your mission.”

     “Not anymore,” Peter’s chest heaved angrily. He took off the suit and dropped it to the floor, leaving only his tank top and shorts. “I’m done with both of you.” Peter turned to Quentin, pointing at him. “I don’t trust you,” he turned back to Fury. “And I’m sick of your secrets and lies. Call me when you’re ready to be honest. You know where to find me.” He turned and stormed out of the warehouse, slamming the door behind him.

     Maria turned to Fury with a sigh, arching her eyebrows. “Sound familiar?”

     Fury leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands thoughtfully. “Too familiar.” He turned to Quentin with a sigh. “Well, I’m sorry Mr. Beck, but it looks like you’re on your own now.”

     Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t be serious.”

     Fury arched his eyebrows and motioned to the door Peter had stormed out of. “Did he look like he was joking to you?”

     “Surely there must be somebody else Stark trusted?” Quentin protested.

     Fury leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Like I told the kid, they’re all busy.”

     “The Fury in my universe would never have stood for this,” Quentin scowled.

     “Probably not,” Fury agreed. “But then again, he probably trusted you. Maybe that was his mistake.” He narrowed his eye at Quentin.

     Quentin’s face darkened. “You’ll regret this,” he vowed, taking a step toward Fury. Immediately Maria had her gun drawn and leveled at the man’s chest. He narrowed his eyes and growled. “When they come, you’ll regret this.” He turned on his heel and left.

     As soon as he was gone, Fury sighed. “See? This is why I have trust issues.” He turned and looked up at Maria. “Follow Peter but don’t let him see you. Make sure he makes it back to his room safely.”

     Fury turned to the scientists that had been operating the portals under Quentin’s direction. “You got it?”

     One of the scientists nodded, holding up Peter’s discarded suit. “It’s all here. We’ve got footage of New York from every universe he visited.”

     “And the portals?” Fury asked.

     Another scientist sitting at a computer turned. “With Stark’s tech and Quentin’s notes, we should be able to recreate them.”

     Fury nodded. “Good. Stark was right. Even dead, he’s still the hero.”

--- Tags: (If you want to be added to my Marvel taglist, let me know!) @xmarveled @parkerspicedlatte @myworstdays @bla-369 ---

#Avengers #Avengers fanfic #Spider-Man #Peter Parker #Iron Man #Tony Stark #iron dad #Spider Son #Marvel #Marvel fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #katsens-writing #writeblr #And Life Goes On #And Life Goes On by Kat

[gwoongi]

ways to say i love you (07)

jung hoseok / reader genre: ghost au, angst rating: mature words: 2.5k warnings: character death, reference to a past suicide, mental health mentions, ghost hoseok, it’s a big ball of angst and i’m really sorry :( a/n: ways to say i love you has come to an end !!!! thanks for joining me on this painful angst series :’) please read the others on my masterlist + listen to the songs/vibes attached to all of ‘em :D (the end is super inspired by goblin)

➸ Imagine the first time they say I love you. Like, properly say it; because they’ve said it before, but today they say it one last time, when it’s the only thing left to say.

⚠️ this story is NOT intended to glamorise mental health or suicide, and this story should be approached with caution if topics such as those offend or upset. thank u sm for following this series <3

It started with a median.

There had been a time where you prided yourself on your disbelief in an afterlife, dismissing medians on television, laughing at ghost hunters and paranormal movies depicting demons and ghouls climbing out of screens. Although now, those times seem to long ago, phantom memories - even the person you were in those memories seem to be different, as though looking into the mind of a stranger, disconnected and vacant. 

Seokjin had told you that was a coping mechanism. Hyojung assured you it was normal. Your sister said it was mental illness.

After the loss of Hoseok, you didn’t know what to think anymore. After the loss of the love of your life, thinking just became pointless.

When the news of Hoseok’s passing had reached you, it had reached you last. At least everybody in your close circle of friends knew a few hours before you, Hoseok’s family and Jeongguk who had found him being the first who found out almost a day before. The absence of Hoseok for those long and tortuous hours were ones you misjudged. You thought he was going back to Gwangju to see his family for the weekend. Seokjin thought he was with you. Jeongguk had returned to his shared flat and found the truth hanging.

The only reason as to why you were last was because nobody knew how you would react. Amongst the chaos and shock that was Hoseok’s death, the reaction that would be drawn from you would change everything. Looking back at it, you even remember where you were and when it had happened, when the pin dropped. Originally, they wanted Jeongguk to tell you, but, overcome with grief, he sent Yoongi instead. You will never, ever forget the look on Yoongi’s face as you opened the door, and the news followed a cup of tea and an unexpected, clueless, and genuine smile had settled on your lips. “What are you doing here?” you had asked, “is everything okay?” He’d said nothing, and then broke down when you asked if he’d heard from Hoseok this weekend. He’s missing my calls. Has he contacted you?

Even after the funeral, after the original shock and after the news had been broken out around University, people still didn’t know how to act around you. The Hoseok Subject was never spoken about or touched upon. Pictures of Hoseok were turned over or taken down when you came over, his name buried with him in the pretty cemetery by the river. It took some time, a real long time, but eventually, the pain began to ever so slightly fade; only to come rushing back again like the sudden pull of the tide when Seulgi had approached your booth in the dorm common room with a leaflet about a median.

You don’t know why you went.

Hyojung had come, too, as emotional support and because she wanted to be there to see if it was as real as Seulgi and the leaflet were making it out to be. You hadn’t even booked a session, turning up unannounced and anonymous for the meeting in one of the older lecture rooms on campus. The question of why and how a median was permitted onto campus was never addressed - you just had to see and hear it for yourself. Nothing had come out of it, and you were glad to keep it that way. That was until the median called out for a Y/N, and your heart sank.

“There’s a Hoseok in the room, and he’s asking for a Y/N...is there...a Y/N here?”

You had no reaction other than paralysed silence. Hyojung was scandalised, angry and confused. The median surely must have heard about Hoseok’s death here and that’s why the session was on campus. She said all of this accusingly, crying in hysterics, this is wrong, how can you do this to someone in grieving?

You left the lecture hall, leaving a piece of you behind with it.

Since that day, you’d returned back to the comfort of your bedroom, leaving for your lectures only. Seminars were skipped in silence and the teachers understood, sending emails to cover for it, and the notifications piled up like the tissues in the dustbin. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that the event with the median was a scam, something set up as a sick practical joke, you couldn’t shake it off. What if’s and buts whirled around in your head, chaotic, loud, invasive and sad.

Hoseok was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. But what if you had stayed -? What if it was true? What if you just missed your last, and final opportunity to say goodbye?

(Presently).

“Why are you here? All of you?”

“We never left.”

You blink.

“Does it...does it hurt? Dying?”

You close your eyes slowly. “Quicker than falling asleep.” And exhale.

Something deep into your apartment bumps. 

The noise is quiet whilst still being loud enough to bounce off the volume of the movie, playing quietly on your television screen sitting on top of your desk. Lately, your living room has been pulled into your bedroom, all rooms besides the connecting ensuite now in one. Phone calls from worried friends and family were set to silent and on days where the front door rang, it remained closed. Like you did many months ago, all you need right now is the space. Hyojung had told them why. They didn’t blame you.

Sniffing and wiping your eye with the side of your hand, you push the covers folded up around your breasts down and kick your feet to the floor, staring towards your bedroom door as if probing it for answers. Silence, and then another noise. On a normal day, this might alarm you, but your body is numb, aching and tired, and so you move towards the door without thinking and pull it open, stepping out into the hall. A glance in either direction shows no immediate threat, and you’re too lazy, too tired and too unbothered to step out to investigate. The noise is likely somebody upstairs or down, and if it is an intruder here to kill you, then what do you have to lose?

You move back into your bedroom, shutting the door gently. The bathroom rope-light swings in the breeze from the door moving and you slip into the bathroom quickly. Light floods the box room, illuminating the exhaustion on your face. You look ghastly, sunken and stale. You feel it too. Depression clings to you, life moves outside but stills in. God, you feel so ugly, so worthless and disgusting and alone - splashing your face with cold water, you gasp in the air like you’re depending on the taste, passing up looking at your reflection in the mirror in fear of what you’ll see staring back. When the bathroom light is turned off and you shut the door behind you, you turn to shuffle back into your bedroom and pause.

There is somebody by the window. It’s undeniable, real and solid- but you blink several times, wondering if it’s just a dream. Nothing registers in your body, no reflex to scream or panic. Instead, you simply stare.

The silhouette against the window shuffles, anxious, and then steps into the light. For a while you say nothing, staring in a stunned silence as the figure reveals itself. It has to be a dream. This is a dream. You’ve dreamt it a hundred times. You’ve dreamt Hoseok stepping towards you. You don’t know what to think.

“Hobi,” you say, lifeless. “Am I...dreaming?”

“Baby-” Footsteps across the carpet. Moves like him. Sounds like him. “Oh, my baby girl.” Something cold touches you, but something familiar. Old friends. Old lovers, fleshy hands. Feels like him. “My beautiful girl.”

“Hobi. Hobi?” you stumble. The Hoseok before you watches your eyes fill with tears instantly, and the tightness in your throat he can visibly see causing your hands to tremble. “Hoseok? Am I. Am I dreaming? Am I sleeping?”

“Mhm, yeah,” he settles with. Maybe that’s for the best, maybe that will calm you down. His hands engulf your own, massaging the shakes to sleep. “You’re dreaming, baby.”

“You. You feel so real,” you choke. “Fuck. Hoseok, fuck, what’s happening, why does it feel real-”

“Please-”

“I’m scared, wait, what’s happening, Hoseok-?”

The hands you felt on your hands move to your arms. A tightness follows, like he’s holding you. He did this, he was good at calming you down with his hands on your arms and lips on yours, whispers in mouths. This time he doesn’t kiss you. He can’t. Not now. Not again, never again.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you insist, tears pouring out of your eyes. “You’re. You. Baby, you died, you left me, you left us, why did you. Where did you. Baby, Hoseok, what...?”

“Calm down, Y/N, calm down baby, okay?” Hoseok whispers comfortingly. “Capture your breath, and then we’ll talk okay? I don’t have too long left.”

This repeats for a little while, as Hoseok follows a method he used to when he tried to calm you down. After three long and amazing years of dating, Hoseok had learned what worked and what didn’t, what to say and what not to. The crazy thing about love is how you dedicate everything to getting to know that other person inside and out, learning their secrets and exploring interests, making memories to remember and frame and tell kids about. There was a time when Hoseok thought about all of that, and a time where he could have had it.

“Is it really you?” you ask quietly, after several long minutes of Hoseok holding your head in his hands and bringing you out of the storm onto the calm shore. “I’m not going crazy?”

“It’s me,” Hoseok promises, smiling as best as he can. You’re crying, maybe you can’t see his face. His throat feels hot, tight and firm.

“I miss you.” You rasp out your words, gasping for air every few seconds, “I miss you so much, Hoseok. Why did you leave me, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I. I thought you were going to your parents for the weekend, but. But Jeongguk found you and- why did you lie to me? Hobi, why…? Was, was it me?”

“No.” Hoseok grabs your hands tightly. “Don’t ever say that. It was never, ever your fault. Not at all, okay? Don’t think that.”

“Then why?”

Hoseok can’t think. “I don’t want you to think it was your fault, okay? You were- you are, everything to me. You were the light of my life. But, fuck, I was so unhappy. And I didn’t know how to stop being unhappy. I hurt. It hurt me. I was hurting everybody around me in my own little way. Every time I would tell you that I was doing extra readings at the dorm, all I was doing was struggling, thinking about how unhappy I felt even though I was surrounded by people who made me feel worth it. And you all deserved so much better. Still, you deserve so much better.”

“Jeongguk found you. None of us knew you were hurting, Hobi, I didn’t know. We should have noticed the signs, I should have been more careful.”

“No. I was good at hiding it, I never wanted you to worry.”

Suddenly Hoseok’s eyes widen, his hands stroking your hair pausing. With a quick exhale of breath, his smile tightens and he lets out a shaky sigh. “I haven’t got long left. I need to go soon.”

“Go? No, go where?” you frantically ask. “No, please Hobi, don’t leave me again. You can’t leave me again, please.”

“It’s okay. It’s all okay. I tried to call for you the other week, but you left,” Hoseok explains quickly.

“The median? That...that was you?”

Hoseok laughs quietly, “Yeah, baby. But, I get it, you never believed in all that stuff, huh. I should have known better. I had to come here, come to see you. I had to.”

I had to one last time.

“Please,” you whisper, grabbing his hands. “Please don’t leave me again. Please. I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone again. I need you.”

Hoseok shakes his head, attempting a curly smile that you can’t even see past the blur of his own tears. “Y/N L/N, you have been the love of my life. I have loved being your boyfriend and you are my best friend. I will never, ever forget how amazing you are.” Nodding, sniffing his tears back, Hoseok kisses your forehead. His lips are cold and wet, ghostlike and light. “I love you. I love you so much, baby. I’m so sorry, for everything- none of it is your fault, okay, honey? Mmm?”

You feel his hands in your hair as you nod. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry too. I could have helped you.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Hoseok says. “You being happy, and you knowing that it was never your fault, will help me now. Okay?”

Sniffing loudly, you nod again. “Okay.”

For a long moment, Hoseok just stares: “I’m gonna miss you so much.” You mumble something in reply to him, and he sighs shakily, “but now, I have to go.”

You grab his hands as he tries to pull away. “Don’t leave me, you’re leaving me.”

“I never left. I’ll always be here, watching over you. Always, and forever.”

Whether or not Hoseok’s appearance was a dream or not to you, you wake up the next morning with a headache and the memory of him, his voice saying I love you on loop with an echo in your ears. The sun shines into the room, frost outside. On the desk there’s a glass of water, and a letter. He was right. He never left. Not really.

(“All is said and done?”

Hoseok steps into the long hallway and smiles at the hooded man. He’s seen who he needs to; several stops around to his family, one to Jeongguk who had it the worst with finding his body. The final one for you. Y/N, the love of his entire life, remembered in memories and gone in touch.

It’s okay.

“Yeah,” Hoseok nods. Death nods, his hood falling slightly as he points down the hallway with one hand and with the other, passes Hoseok a small cup. Hoseok reaches for it, exhaling gently. “Just like falling asleep.”

He drinks the contents and hands the cup back to Death, heading down the hallway. For a moment, his hand hovers above the handle. He’s said his piece on Earth. He’s done what he needs to do. Now, he can move on in peace.

He turns the handle. The hallway fills with white.)

disclaimer: the choice not to explicitly state a reason towards hoseok’s suicide is because i understand the subject is already touchy enough. with the anniversary of a close friend coming up, unfortunately during a time of my life where i’m going to be stressed due to university, i decided to store my feelings into the final piece of this series. in a way, this is to deal with my own grieving. i’d appreciate consideration into this fact + i also hope that everybody is doing okay with their own issues. please don’t be afraid to speak to somebody about your feelings- a friend, a stranger, me. please stay safe. please stay happy. thank u for everything

#wtsily #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #bts drabble #bts scenario #hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok imagine #jung hoseok #hobi #jhs #jhope #sensitive content #bts angst #hoseok angst #jhope angst