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siampie · 10 months ago

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Finding You||Chapter 2

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3 k

Warnings/tags: pinning, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome, mention of emotional abuse.

A/N: Enjoy this chapter, you guys. I don’t have much to say about this chapter. Apart from the fact that there’s some set up for Reader’s own story.

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Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @sunflowersandsapphires, @schneeflocky, @danzer8705, @shouldbestudying41,

@beezusvreeland

Dividers by @cafekitsune

I have to talk to you, call me.

That was all what your sister;Mary;had texted you. She had sent it last night while you were sleeping. You couldn’t call her that morning. Not being in the same time zone made communication between you difficult but not impossible. It had also triggered your anxiety. What did she want to talk about? Maybe it was nothing too important. You were trying to convince yourself. A feeble attempt to calm your nerves.

Still, you were anxious. You usually called one another on the week-ends. And you never asked to call. It was never a thing. That she went out of her way to ask you to call was strange and worrisome. So being in a different time zone than your sister, you waited for your lunch break to call her.

“So, how’s life in Dublin?” You sister asked you once she picked up the call. You stood outside of the building. Your sister was finishing feeding her son his breakfast as you were calling her.

“Good.” You answered quickly. “How’s the little one?” You knew what she was doing, she was stalling. Whatever she had to say must be really bad if she felt the need to stall. So, you played into it. But the fact that she was stalling only spiked your anxiety levels.

“He’s growing up.” She said, you could hear the smile in her voice. Your sister had always wanted to be a mother and after years of trying with her partner, she became one to a healthy little boy. You were happy for her. “But it always seems like he’s trying to get himself killed.”

You snorted. “It seems like he’s failing so far.” You heard the clatter of utensils on the line. “Why did you want me to call?”

“Oh, boy!” You sister let out a long breath. “It’s about mom.”

“What about her?” You let out a shaky breath.

“Dave may have told her where you live. Giving her your address and everything.” Mary told you.

Dave was your brother. You did not have a good relationship with him. You didn’t hate him but he had failed to show up anytime you asked for his help. While you showed up each and every single time. And he sometimes had the audacity to blame you for being ungrateful for all that he was doing for you. You could not be grateful for something he had never done or that he done once in a blue moon. Whereas he failed to see all the times you had helped him.

He had not been in favor of your moving away. Judging that the money that your father had left you, should be shared amongst you. Because that was what your father would have wanted; for you to share the money equally. But you had refused. You were going to but the fact he suggested the idea. No, not suggested. Demanded that you do it, had made you decide otherwise. You chose to enjoy the money your father had left for you. Mary and Matthew had found it natural that your father would leave that money to you. You had earned it for all the sacrifices you had made for them.

After all, your sacrifices had allowed them to move out, to live their lives. It had allowed them to fall in love and build their own home and family. While you remained behind, taking care of your father, and maybe wasting your life away. They knew what you had done for them. And all they wanted was for you to finally be happy. This money was your reward. And you could do with it as you pleased.

You felt your anger flared up in your veins. You took a deep breath before you spoke. Trying to leave the anger out of your tone. Your sister was not the one who betrayed your trust. She was only the messenger. And you didn’t want to yell at her. Not at your sister.

“What the hell did he do that for?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “All he said was that mom asked and he saw no reason not to tell her.”

“Look, I get why all of you want a relationship with her. I do. But I told you, I don’t want to have a relationship with the woman.” You reminded her.

“I know that.” Mary reassured you. “And Matt knows that. And so does Dave. And honestly, I don’t know why he did that. But you’re in Ireland. She’s not gonna show up on your doorstep. You really think she’s gonna waste money on you?”

“No, I don’t think she will.” You replied, leaning on the wall behind you. “Still, I don’t want her to know where I am. She’s still with that prick, isn’t she?”

“They’ve been together for twenty years. And there’s no sign of a separation. They are more in love than ever.”

You scoffed. “Of course they are.”

“Listen, I don’t think they are gonna come and find you in Ireland. And why would they?” Mary tried to comfort you.

“To stir shit up.” You replied.

“I think she genuinely wants to have a relationship with you. And I know, you don’t. And Dave was wrong to give her your address.” Mary kept on. “I don’t think she’s going to show up, I just needed you to know.”

That gave you pause. “You don’t think she’s going to show up. But you needed me to know that she knew where I was?”

“Yeah—just in case.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Just in case. Yeah, she’s definitely showing up. With her boyfriend.”

“Husband.” Your sister corrected you.

“Fantastic.” You said dryly. “Remind me again why I decided not to go no contact with Dave?”

“Your goddaughter.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Of course.” Your sister breathed out. “What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t?”

“The bad kind.” You joked softly. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“Say it back.” You frowned up.

“Talk to you later.” And she hung up. You immediately texted back a middle finger emoji.

You laughed when she texted it back to you. You dropped your head back against the wall.

Your mother had left when you were a child. And immediately after leaving your father, she had found love in the arms of her new husband. After years of emotional abuse, and manipulation on her part, of constant walking in and out of your life, you put a stop to it. You couldn’t go through this anymore. It was too painful. Plus, you hated her new husband. He was—he was not good. You had tried to accept him. You wanted to. But something about him, the way he behaved around you, made you afraid and unsafe. You couldn’t have that in your life. You didn’t want to feel that way anytime you were around your mother. You stopped any attempt at having a relationship with her. You no longer wanted her in your life.

Hopefully, your sister was right, your mother would not make the journey to Ireland. You were hoping for it at least. Your life was finally getting together. You were at peace here in Ireland and you wanted it to stay that way.

As soon as you got home, you discarded your shoes by the door, dropped your bags by the couch and fell into it. That day had turned out to be a long one. You loved hearing from your sister but you had regretted to call her at all. Especially with the bit of news she had given you. You should have stayed in bed this morning. Although, if you had—you would not have met your quite handsome neighbor.

Your mind flashed back to his soft hazel eyes, and the lone dimple that appeared under his beard when he smiled. Quite handsome, indeed.

“Damn it!” You cussed. “He’s a criminal. A drug lord and a murderer. You can’t find him attractive.”

You shouldn't and you wouldn't. He was a Kinsella and they were dangerous people. You needed to stay away from him.

Dressed in grey leggings and a large hoodie, you were enjoying your small diner in front of mind-numbing TV. When the red and blue lights flashed through your front windows. The Garda were down your streets. Shortly after they arrived, you heard the heart wrenching wail of a woman down the street. You slowly put your plate down. What had happened? You knew by the sound of that scream that terrible news had just been delivered.

The flashes of blue and red had vanished a while after that. You were lying in bed, hopelessly trying to fall asleep. But your thoughts could not just stop swirling around in your mind. Jimmy and Amanda had lost their son; Jamie Kinsella. The local news had broadcasted the news on their websites. It was brief and they didn’t have much information. But all of them relayed the same information over and over again. Jamie Kinsella had been shot and died on the scene.

You couldn’t help the sadness that taken over you when you read the news. He was barely seventeen. Too young to die. He was just a child. You knew how it felt to lose a parent. It was painful and heartbreaking. In your case, you had time to say goodbye and come to terms with it. It was a loss; it was painful but not in the way the world perceived it. You had known it was coming. And you had already mourned your father before it ever happened. You had expected it.

As for Jamie, it was unexpected. It was so sudden and brutal. How did one prepare for such a death? How did one prepare for the loss of a child? It was not the natural order of things. That was not how it was supposed to go. A parent should never have to bury a child. And yet, it happened.

Why were you affected by it? Yes, it was sad. A young life had just ended but you barely knew him. It shouldn’t bother you that much. It shouldn’t affect you as it did. Your thoughts inevitably drifted to your neighbor next door. How was he feeling? How was he coping with the loss? Was he over at his brother’s to bring his support? Or was he alone in his home dealing with the loss on his own? No one should be alone when dealing with a loss. You knew how terrible it was to receive no comfort. To just stew in your own pain, alone.

Seeing as you couldn’t sleep, you had moved downstairs. You quietly made your way into your kitchen, looking for something that may help you fall asleep. The gold door light of your neighbor was filtering through your large window. Against the dimmed light, you could make out the silhouette of a woman walking away from Michael’s house. It was too dark out for you to be able to tell who it was. You watched as she disappeared behind the brick wall.

It must have been hard on all of them. Especially after they had all celebrated Michael’s release from prison. And now this. The tragic loss of a child. You could only imagine how Jimmy and Amanda were feeling. And Michael—

You took a deep breath and grabbed your keys off of the hook. You stepped out of the front door, in the chill air of the night. After you locked your door, you hugged yourself to keep warm and made your way to your neighbor’s door. You two had just met and this was probably bold of you to assume. But you thought that he might not want to be alone to face this. And maybe you were wrong. Maybe Michael did not mind being alone. That thought alone made you hesitate. Still, you made your way over to his doorstep. Your fist hovered for a few seconds. Hesitating. With another deep breath, you knocked three times. And you waited. You were growing more nervous as the seconds went by. You hugged yourself tighter. The door swung open revealing Michael behind it.

“Michael, hey.” You greeted him. Shoulders slumped, eyes red from crying, Michael looked tired and pained. Although, he tried and failed to hide it all behind a mask. “I saw the Guards earlier—” You went for the direct approach. And mentally slapped yourself for it.

“So, ya know about Jamie?” He nodded solemnly.

“I do.” You nodded. “I just came to see if you were—how you were doing?”

He scoffed, his sorrowful gaze dropping to the ground. “Not great.”

You puffed out a shaky breath. “I don’t mean to intrude or—” You trailed off. “Do you want to be alone?” You questioned him. His eyes snapped up at you. His brows scrunched up in confusion. His eyes roamed your face, studying you. “I know what it’s like to be alone when you lose someone.” You blurted out. “It’s not great but—if you’d rather be alone—” You trailed off.

His sorrowful eyes scanned you over. Studying you. You had surprised him. He clearly did not expect his neighbor that he barely met, to come to him in the middle of the night. Especially not to offer him comfort. Comfort that he desperately needed. Birdy had told him that he needed to be there for Jimmy and Amanda. Amanda had asked him what were Jamie’s last moments like. And for all of them, he had shown a brave face. He had stood strong but he was there too. He had seen it all. And no one had stopped to ask how he was feeling—except for you. His gaze roamed your face, he noticed how you tightened your arms around your middle.

He cleared his throat. “D’ya—want to come in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. Michael stepped to the side to let you in.

So much for staying away from the criminal next door. There you were, in his home in the middle of night. The layout of his home was almost identical to yours for the most part, kitchen by the front door. The hallway that led to the living room. You left your slippers by the front door and followed Michael to the sitting room. He sat down in his couch as you stood by the doorway. Putting a semblance of distance between you.

“I was there,” Michael said after a few minutes of silence.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words before your eyes fell shut. Pained to hear that he had seen it happened. He looked up at you, grief etched into every line of his face.

“He was laughin’, messin’ around and then—he was just gone.” Michael said quietly. His face crumpled as a set of fresh tears fell down his face. His hand quickly wiped away any traces of them.

“I’m so sorry you had to see it.” You said quietly, tears pressing against your eyes.

“He was just a boy.” Michael continued quietly.

“I know.” You were itching to reach over and just pull him into your embrace. Would he even allow it?

“Birdy told me I need to be there for Jimmy and Amanda.” His voice cracked. “Losin’ their son and everythin’. But—I—I lost him too.” He buried his face into his hands. “Jamie was—” His voice muffled by his hands. You waited for him to finish his thought but it never came as a sob racked his body.

You quickly wiped away a stray tear from your face. You moved to go sit down next to him. Your arms slowly and gently wrapped around him. And pulled him into you. His hands went up to your forearm, around his neck. You leaned your cheek on the top of his head. Whispering words of comfort as he wept. You probably had overstepped boundaries here. But what were you supposed to do? This was the only way you knew how to bring comfort.

Your ran your hand on his back in a soothing circle. When he seemed to have calm down, he pulled gently away from you. Your arms fell back at your sides. He ran his hand over his face, erasing the tears that had fallen there.

“Sorry.” He apologized as he did so.

“Don’t be.” You shook your head. “It’s okay.” You started to run your hands on your thighs, in a nervous manner. “I just—I’m so sorry about Jamie.”

Michael nodded solemnly; his eyes red from crying. He rested his hand on your knee. Your breath hitched in your throat at the gesture. Your eyes went to his face. He was staring at you, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Thank you,” He said. “For askin’ and for—bein’ here.”

“Ah.” You nodded, smiling softly. “I have no merit. I was just doing my neighborly duties.”

“Is that it?” Michael retorted his voice still thick with emotions. He cleared his throat. “Is that why you here?”

You shrugged. “Like I said, I know how it feels like to lose someone and have no one there with you; to comfort you. When you desperately need it. It feels very—”

“Lonely.” He finished for you.

“Yeah.” You stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. “And should you need a shoulder to cry on again—I’m right next door. Whenever you need.”

He squeezed your knee gently, as tears welled back up in his eyes. A warm smile made its way onto his face. You had meant it. You probably shouldn’t have offered but you couldn’t help yourself. Michael Kinsella had looked so broken and so pained; it was hard to not offer comfort when he needed it. You knew too well, what it was like to not receive any when you needed it. And Michael needed it.

You just really hoped you had helped a little.

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#michael kinsella fic #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem! reader #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella #comfort #kin rte #kin amc #kin bbc

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fearlessbythebeach · 6 months ago

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Another idea for a supercat story I had and wrote in 30 minutes haha

Kara gets sensory overload -a supercat story

Kara gets sensory overload once in a while because it’s hard to tune stuff out when you can literally hear every heartbeat in a two block radius, and see flashing lights from a mile away. There are signs that she’s close to an overload and has to step away. Sometimes she’ll have trouble regulating all of the things she usually does and accidentally sees her neighbor Dave’s skeleton.

She’ll get more irritable than usual and things will sound more hostile than they usually are.

It’s one of the tough parts of being supergirl. Because even though she knows sensory overload is a thing that happens to some humans too, she’s never met anyone who can understand her reactions.

Her family here on earth have learned to understand, and can help her out when she’s feeling overwhelmed. She normally goes home or to her mother’s house when this happens so she can be safe.

Sometimes Alex will send her to the DEO. She’s super strong so when she has a sensory meltdown and loses control, she’ll want something to hit, she’ll lash out at people, and it’s good to be in a place like the DEO where everything is strong, like her.

Sometimes she’s alone which feels tough and unpleasant, but it’s best when Alex or her mom can stay with her. But it’s never happened anywhere too public before. She’s been able to disappear in the nick of time, like supergirl does.

But one day she’s at work and it’s a busy day. Cat Grant is shouting at everyone, obviously stressed, and the whole space has an aggravated feel to it. Kara tries to escape this mess a few times but every time she’s about to walk out the door, Cat glares at her and she’s forced to stay. At least there’s no one that needs saving? That would be incredibly stressful.

“Whitt!” Cat shouted. “What have you been doing this whole time? Are you begging to be fired?” Kara sighed.

“Keeeeeeerraa!!” Cat suddenly screamed.

Kara couldn’t keep it together anymore.

“I’m right here, shut up!” she whined. She realized what she had just said and fought back tears, sitting down at her desk, breathing too shallow and too fast.

“Hey, hey,” said Cat.

“Everyone get out of here! You can all go on break!” Cat announced to the office.

Kara looked up at her in surprise. She’d never let everyone go on a spontaneous break before.

“It’s okay,” Cat said softly. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

Kara blinked rapidly.

“It’s ok to cry if you need to,” said Cat.

“But I’m not supposed to,” cried Kara.

“It’s alright, I’ve felt exactly how you do before, you know,” she said.

“You have?”

“Yeah, it’s a superpower thing for you, right?” said Cat.

“No I’m not supergirl I mean, it’s something else.”

“Oh right,” said Cat, remembering she wasn’t supposed to know Kara was supergirl. “It’s not that.” She lifted Kara’s chin up with her fingers and fed her an m&m.

“For me it’s autism. I haven’t told almost anyone I have it, but you know Carter does. I think it’s hereditary, not entirely sure,” said Cat. “But you know I’m not the best with other people.” Cat inwardly cringed. Talking about feelings was disgusting. But she needed to now. Maybe she didn’t have to open up so much but she wanted to. It was okay.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Kara felt better.

“One time I was supposed to go to a movie premiere with Cate Blanchett and I had sensory issues and she told me I should go home. It was one of the most embarrassing things that’s ever happened to me,” Cat groaned. “Okay, maybe that was too much sharing.”

Kara giggled a bit.

“You’re sounding more like your sunny self,” said Cat. “And I promise, if you’re ready to let the others back in, even though this is a stressful time for work, I won’t have my usual Cat Grant freak out.” Kara laughed.

“Call them back,” said Kara. “Do you need anything like a sweet drink? I’m thinking a calming, sweet chai would be good for us.”

“Oh Kara, that sounds lovely,” said Cat.

#supercat #fanfic #autism #sensory overload #kara danvers #cat grant

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thygoddessouijathicc · 8 months ago

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Dr. Henry Miller is a frog.

Remember a long time ago in a faraway land when I made a low quality theory that claimed Henry was in fact a frog?

I’m not sorry. In fact, fuck you, fuck your mom, fuck your long lost twin hidden in the attic who creepily plays piano when the house is quiet and wears a mask of Merida from Brave to hide their deformed face.

I fucking stand by it.

Henry is a frog, we know this much by now. His hue is one frogs can have and he seems to lack features like ears and a nose. Rather frog behaviour if you ask me.

But now I ask YOU… do his teeth look real? No right, far too big they basically hold the poor guy’s mouth open by force implying need for severe dental intervention. I believe these teeth not to be real teeth at all but simply cartoonishly large dentures he got from a joke shop. We know he’d attend such a place because while he is characterized rather serious he was known for blowing up urinals causing Freddy’s bathrooms to have cams and of course just loving to laugh at all things especially dying people. He seems to have a rather good sense of humour!

So no ears, no nose, no teeth, probably no butthole ei- yeah you know what doesn’t have these things? A fuckin frog. Now I ask you does he not appear moist? He looks grimy, sticky even. Frog.

Now my last theory argues this was normal HOWEVER I have since come to believe that Henry is in fact not natural… to our world. No I’m not calling another DSAF character an alien bare with me.

See if this was normal it would change a lot. We’d see frog people. We’d see noticeable change to history as frog people grow around humanity, new inventions, fuck, new frog racism. I’m not even kidding here if frog people existed I am sure humans would be racist towards them we can’t handle people having a different dominant hand than us for fucks sake humans kinda just suck like that. There would be frog politics. Frog moistening rooms. And most of all Henry would feel no need to disguise himself with something as silly as fake teeth.

No our frog man came from another world entirely. But but but let’s be clear it’s not like with Dave who seems to have just come out of nowhere Henry interacted with people, he understands his inhumanity and actively hides it almost as if he was taught how. He has knowledge of reality far greater than that which is normal as if… otherworldly.

My dear poor stupid reader, Henry can only come from one place and once place only.

Amphibia.

Even more than that Henry is a pink frog with a sense of humour and the knowledge of how to disguise himself as human. Friends, comrades, giant enemy spiders, Henry is Sprig.

A Sprig from a tragic world where Anne never comes back from death who leaves his home and family behind in order to try to get Anne back after Hop Pop becomes an alcoholic to deal with the grief. He finds himself transported into the human world but… in the past, forced to bide his time and search for a cure to the big dead getting both medical and spiritual knowledge, taking part in the war where he looses his tongue and hat via arrow to the knee. He tattoos his eyes black and takes Dave to start Fredbear after the circus proves useless and the rest is history.

Henry is Sprig from Amphibia it all lines up it all makes sense who else would be able to create such war crimes but a guy with a slingshot, a slingshot being the earliest signs in a child of psychotic tendencies. “Sprig has hair” you say? He lost it in the war and due to stress. “This is stupid” you say, I say any other answer is madness. “The frogs in Amphibia have teeth and in proving they are fake you prove-“ FAKE. TEETH. The government is lying to you to hide this great truth.

Henry Miller is Sprig, this is fact. It had been in front of us all along we were just too blind to see it.

…

BAIIIIIIIIII

#dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #shitpost #dsaf 2 #dsaf 3 #dsaf henry #henry miller #dsaf theory #DSAF essay #Surprise Amphibia mentions #amphibia spoilers #the greatest theory of all time #A lot of swearing

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epitomeofadisaster · 9 months ago

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It's just a coincidence.

Dave Husker enjoyed working the bars at the casinos, he was 38 still in what he considered his prime, the casino was owned by a big shot from new York, it's said he was mafia but Dave didn't care the place was everything he had wanted, a steady job, a good pay check and stability which he needed since he had not long got married. The day was like any, Dave was closing up and organising the shelves before heading out when a skinny man in a suit showed up. The owner lived in New york but sometimes his son would show up to check on the casino, he was a bit of an odd ball, to skinny and a bit on the unhinged side, he slid up to the bar and waved Dave over "hey I need you to do me a fava" Dave nodded his head giving the dark haired man his full attention. "Add a new thing to the bar it's called an angel shot, anyone that orders that you help em, whether it's callin security or gettin em in a cab out the back you got it" his eyes where burning into Dave and he noticed the man's hands where balled up tight. "Yeah boss whatever you need, I'll have the other staff put that in, uh can I ask why?" The man gave a bitter smile to the bar top and lit up a smoke taking a long drag before speaking "ma nonna used to say if we ever needed help angels would come, they didn't help my brother none but maybe, maybe I can do some good in my miserable life fa once" Dave watched him trying to search for the words but the man just walked away with a single wave, Dave never saw him again and heard a rumour the big man in charges youngest son died, the casino was sold a year later.

It's just a coincidence

Huskers life had gone down hill he was 59 divorced twice and now spent his days either to drunk to function or hustling tables at the casinos that now resembled tourist traps, the old days truly gone, he was sitting at the bar nursing a whisky when a family walked over a dad and mom looking exhausted and a young teen her hair covering one side of her face and a smile that looked like a Cheshire cats. They sat down the dad ordered drinks, and the girl bounced on a bar stool right next to Husker. "Aw, this is epic! Can't believe we are really in the States, hey hey, do you live here! I'm from Australia! We came all the way here, isn't that cool!!!" Husker turned his head slightly to her, her face was as bright as a strobe light and he let out a not so enthusiastic "yippee" the girl didn't seem to mind she was bouncing around so much Husker found himself wearing his drink he abruptly got up looking down at his now wet shirt "what the fuck" the girl didn't apologise instead she got angrily "hey don't yell I'm just a kid you old fuck!" Her parents immediately jumped in."Chelsea apologised right now!" Her mother looked pleadingly at her and apologetic to Husker the girl let out a roar and kicked the stool before storming off her mother close behind, her father stepped forward with a napkin "I'm so sorry let me buy you another drink" Husker shrugged and sat back down he would never turn down a fresh drink the man sat next to him looking exhausted "I'm sorry about my daughter, she, Chelsea has had a rough time of it she was born blind in her right eye and we'll you know kids can be mean, she struggles to make friends we brought her here to just get away from it all" Husker sipped his new drink and gave the man a sympathetic nod "I get it my anger issues ain't to great neither, I guess no harm done since you got me a new drink" the man smiled and grabbed the drinks he got for his family leaving with a small wave, Husker never saw them again.

It's just a coincidence

Husk was old, his body ached all the time, cancer was a bitch but he guessed he only had himself to blame, he spent most of his days indoors now a run down house to go with his run down body, the times changed around him but his home was still very much stuck in the 50s an old tv set that never caught up to colour and his radio, he often spent his evening listening to true crime his favorite being the tales of the bayou killer from the 30s a cannibal taken out by a hunter, the true number of his victims was never identified. Tonight though he was listening to the tale of the Japanese house wife who killed her husband by stabbing him over one hundred times she didn't stop stabbing till the police shot her 3 times. Husk was in his bed the sounds playing over the speaker lulling him to sleep. Husk woke to the sound of the radio once more it was familiar the last broadcast from the bayou killers radio show back when he was a host, Husk blinked in confusion, he was sure that wasn't what was playing when he went to sleep, he tried to sit up but his body was stiff, he tried to roll but the pain was to much. A coughing fit over took him and Husk was unable to move to clear his air waves he started slipping into unconsciousness the sounds of the bayou killers voice wishing his audience a goodnight and a peaceful rest.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin niffty #hazbin cherri bomb

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takeeachdayonebookatatime · 2 months ago

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Why did you elbow me? 237

Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek undercover part 47

The car accident part 22

Flashback continued

2 days later

Kate: pov I'm at work doing some paperwork in my office, that is when Dr Janice Linfield calls me. She says I know you're busy so instead of having you come into my office. I will give you the results over the phone, the specialist looked at your scans and agrees with me that the spot is just scar tissue. Dr Janice Linfield tells me that the spot still needs to be monitored but other than that I'm all good. I call Castle who is at home writing to tell him the good news.

End of flashback

Dr Claudia: pov Kate has scans in a few minutes, nurse Zoey just gave Kate her morning meds and her first feed of the day. Dr Davidson is having car trouble meaning another cardiologist will have to do her morning scans. A Dr Catcher has offered to do her scans, I updated him on her medical history. He is new to this hospital. He transferred from a different hospital a few months ago. I don't like him much, he comes off very rude. I let Josh know so he doesn't have to worry about showing up.

Dr Catcher: pov so far i haven’t been caught, know one here knows my real identity or that I have a criminal record in Tennessee for touching my heart patients inappropriately. Hmm this Kate Beckett sounds like an interesting patient and she is a cop i've never had one before, Dr Claudia who is an obgyn told me all about her medical history. I need to get Kate alone which will be hard with everyone hanging around.

Kate: pov Lanie and Castle are staying with me in my room for the ultrasound. Nurse Zoey puts the cold gel on my belly for Dr Claudia who moves the wand around pointing the baby out and letting us listen to its heartbeat, such a great moment. I can feel myself crying. Up next is my echocardiogram. More gel is squirted on my chest. Dr. Catcher moves the wand around over my chest, I don't like the way his fingers brush over my scars while he is doing the echo, he says just making sure your scars are normal and nothing is wrong with them. I have a chest scan next he suggests Lanie and Castle have lunch while I have my chest scan.

Lanie: pov excuse me Dr but I usually wait in the booth with the technician doing the scans, since Kate has ptsd. Dr catcher says he doesn't allow it. Once he heard ’s I'm a Dr he let me and Dr Claudia stay with Kate. No need to elaborate on what type of Dr I am.

Castle: pov Jim, Mother, Alexis and Dave just arrived at the hospital so we can have lunch while Kate gets her scans.

Alexis: pov Dad , there is a great food place near the hospital me and Dave went with mom, we could go there if you don't mind, the wait isn't that bad only a few minutes. Plus Lanie said this scan would take a while.

Nurse zoey: pov I help make sure her wires don't get unplugged while Clark transfers her to the scanner bed. I have headphones and calming meds ready if she freaks out. Her stuffed elephant couldn't come with her since we are not sure if it will interfere with the scans because it has a thing in it.

Dr Claudia: pov Kate did amazing during the scans, the results of her CT/MRI scan and chest/arm X-ray will take awhile. Dr Catcher suggests Lanie get something to eat while we get her settled in bed and nurse Zoey gives Kate her lunch time feed, she most likely will fall asleep after anyway. He tells Lanie to let her family know it will be a few minutes before they can see her. I’m getting an emergency message saying I'm needed in the maternity ward. I tell Lanie I will talk to her, in a bit once I take care of this emergency.

Dr. Catcher: pov my plan is starting to work now I just need to get nurse Zoey out of the room. Kate is now back in her room and asleep which is perfect Clark also just left, nurse Zoey is getting everything ready for her lunch time feed. I ask her if she could go tell the family I need to speak to them, I'm going to tend to one of my other patients. It should only take a few minutes, I will have another nurse watch her during her feed.

Nurse zoey: pov for some reason I don't feel comfortable leaving Kate alone during her feed, Dr Catcher reassures me another nurse will stay with her. I head to the waiting room to talk with her family. Dr Claudia had an emergency so she will talk with you later and Dr Catcher is tending to another patient at the moment. He has another nurse watching Kate during her lunch time feed. I can take you to her now.

Dr. Catcher: pov I lied about having another patient to tend to and about another nurse coming in, it was easy to get Dr Claudia away I just had to get someone to call her away. Being as quiet as I can I climb on the bed kneeling over her straddling her legs a little and lift up her gown, I carefully run my fingers over her chest/boob area. Which made Kate move a little, I think she is waking up crap this wasn't part of the plan. I just have to be quick, I start to unzip my pants but the zipper gets stuck. Kate is clearly awake and starts screaming. I cover her mouth and nose with my hand to keep her quiet which is freaking her out. Her heart rate is increasing and her oxygen levels are dropping.

Kate: pov I'm suddenly awoken by someone touching my chest/boobs, it's probably a nurse fixing one of my wires. As I open my eyes I realize It's Dr. Catcher and he is kneeling over me in bed trying to unzip his pants. Which freaks me out. I manage to scream a little but he covers my mouth and nose with his hand. I can feel my body losing the fight. I hear the door to my room burst open and someone grab Dr Catcher off of me and throw him into the wall. Everything is fuzzy but the man looks like Josh. To be continued. ……………..

#castle #fanfiction #tvshow #stanakatic #katebeckett #richardcastle #nathanfillion #tamalajones #lanieparish

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casspurrjoybell-25 · 7 months ago

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Skating on Thin Ice - Chapter 51 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

"Elijah," a familiar voice snapped.

I turned to see Fox standing behind the car, his eyes wide and filling with angry tears.

"Were you just going to leave me?" he questioned with a shaky voice, yet it cut through me like a knife.

"Without even saying goodbye?"

"What? No," I replied, using all my strength to push Dave backward and move away from the car.

"No. I wasn't, Fox."

His jaw was tensely set as he moved his glare to Dave.

Fox started moving toward him, his hand in a fist, before I grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him.

"Stop it, you're hurt," I pleaded, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I'm fine," he said, looking past me at Dave.

"I thought I made it clear that you are not to get in the way," Dave said, setting a glare on Fox.

"Dave, what are you talking about?" Mom asked, looking between Fox and her husband.

He ignored her as he reached out for me.

Dave grabbed me around the waist and pulled me away from Fox.

I struggled in his grip, kicking at his legs and trying to pull his arms off me.

A sudden collision freed me as I shared a surprised look with Fox.

I quickly scurried back to my boyfriend before turning to see what had happened.

Landon had Dave on the ground, restraining him as he struggled.

Mom gasped as Landon held her husband to the ground.

"Landon, sweetie, let him up okay?" she said in a panicked tone before looking back at me.

"Elijah, please get in the car. We can talk about this on the way there."

She held her hand out to me, hoping I would take it.

I stared down at it for a moment before looking in her eyes.

The love I always craved from my mother wasn't there.

All that was in her eyes was hope that I would comply, not love for me and that was what made me snap.

"No, Mom. Are you for real?" I exclaimed, my booming voice caused her to jump back, tears springing in her eyes.

"That's it. I'm done with you," I yelled, Mom wincing at my tone.

"I'm done with you trying to make me feel guilty. Like I should want to go with you and be some happy fucking family."

Fox placed a comforting hand on my back.

"Ever since you kicked me out, I craved attention from you," I continued, tears welling up in my own eyes.

"I wanted you to love me for me."

"Honey, I do..."

"No, you don't," I cut her off, my voice cracking slightly.

"You're trying to take me away to change me, to fix me but I can't be fixed, Mom because there's nothing to fix. I am the way I am."

The tears were spilling over her eyes now and I could feel my face heat up in anger.

"And for months now I've been wanting to have it both ways," I continued.

"I wanted to have you love me while still being who I am but you make it impossible. You want me to be your pawn that you can manipulate into the perfect son you want."

Landon was still holding Dave down, his struggles dying down.

"But I can't be that for you," I cried, a hot tear spilling down my cheek.

"And I don't want to be. I'm happy now, Mom, really happy."

I had never expressed it out loud but after all the long months of feeling out of place, I was truly happy with where I was.

"This house," I started, gesturing toward the house.

"This house is my home. Dad, Mandy, Joshua and Ava are my family. I've never known what a real family felt like and now that I finally do you want to tear me away from them?"

Mom let out a quiet sob but didn't say anything.

Fox's hand started moving on my back, rubbing it slowly.

"I have good friends who like me for me," I continued.

"Friends that are like me, that I can relate to."

I took a deep breath, another tear swimming down my cheek.

"I have a boyfriend that I fell in love with," I said, my breath hitching in my throat as Mom's eyes widened in surprise.

Fox's hand went still on my back and I didn't have it in me to face him.

"I love him, Mom," I said with a sad smile, letting out a tearful laugh.

"And you think the love I have for him isn't real because you think I can't actually be in love with another guy but I am."

"Elijah, please," Mom cried, shaking her head.

"No. I don't want anything to do with you anymore," I told her, wiping my tears from my face.

"Not as long as you're with him. I don't want to see you or talk to you or even hear from you."

"That's enough, Elijah," Dave spat, still being held down by Landon.

I didn't even look at him.

As Mom continued crying, I didn't even notice Dad and Mandy had pulled into the driveway until Dad came rushing over and stood in front of me.

"What is going on?" he snapped, looking at my mother with an angry expression.

He didn't wait for an answer before he grabbed Dave from Landon and shoved him against the car.

Mandy came beside me, wrapping an arm around me as she watched the events unfold.

"I know you were notified of Elijah's restraining order," Dad said in a low tone as he held Dave against the car.

"So you can either leave here and never come back or I can have you arrested and you can spend the night in jail."

Dave didn't say anything.

"And then we can have them look into everything you've done to Elijah and Fox," Dad seethed.

"I'm done messing around. If you don't get out of here I will make sure you regret it."

Dave just scoffed as we all watched in anticipation.

"I've already spoken to lawyers. I know you two can't do anything," Dad continued in a low tone.

"So if you want to make this a battle, we'll make it a battle and you'll lose."

Dad and Dave shared hard glares before Dave let out a huff and nodded.

"Let's go," he muttered, looking to Mom who was still crying.

She nodded, gesturing toward Landon for him to follow.

"Leave Landon here," I spoke up in a shaky voice.

Mandy walked over to Landon and pulled him toward us, causing Dave's face to sour even more.

He didn't say anything as my dad stood in his way, practically forcing him to get in the car.

Watching as they drove away was bittersweet.

My mother would choose Dave over me and she always would.

That was something I had to accept.

Even though I felt a tug on my heart at the thought of her leaving, it finally felt like I was at peace without worry of her playing with my emotions.

"Are you boys okay?" Mandy asked the three of us with a concerned expression.

Landon zoned out on the ground, staring at his feet.

"Why don't you come inside and sit down, Landon?" Mandy suggested, gently grabbing his arm and leading him into the house.

"Are you guys okay?" Dad asked Fox and I, pulling me into a hug and kissing my head.

Fox nodded with a look of contemplation while I hugged my Dad back.

"I'm never going to let them hurt you again," Dad said.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I said into his shoulder before he pulled away and left Fox and me outside.

We stared at each other for a few moments in silence before Fox spoke up.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked quietly, giving me an intense stare.

"What did I say?"

"That you're in love with me?"

My face reddened at his words.

When I said that, I had been emotionally invested in the moment.

I was ranting and I couldn't stop myself.

That didn't mean that it wasn't genuine though.

"Uh..." I trailed, scratching the back of my neck in discomfort.

"Yeah, I meant it," the words barely left my mouth before Fox's lips were on mine.

He caressed my cheeks in his hands, kissing me tenderly.

My hands found their way to his hips as I responded to the kiss.

Fox pulled away, keeping his face only inches from mine.

"I love you too," he said in a breathless tone.

A smile broke out on my face before I leaned in to kiss him again.

"I love you, Foxy," I said against his lips.

The last few months of my life had been nothing short of emotional.

I went from feeling like an empty shell to finally feeling like I had a place, feeling like I belonged.

With Fox's arms wrapped around me, his lips on mine, I knew the journey was worth it.

Despite all the lows I went through, where I was now made everything worth it.

With Dave and Mom out of the picture, my life could be what I always hoped it would.

And now I could finally live like I was free, on steady ground with no fear of falling through the cracks.

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breathenbounce · 10 months ago

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THE GRATITUDE CHRONICLES: THE DOOR CRACKED OPEN

Hello there. This morning as I was scrolling through facebook, I found a post that hit me. It was from Megadeth frontman, founder, and legend Dave Mustaine. I read it and it hit me hard. Here it is....

I read this so many times. It made me think of my own trials and tribulations of my own life. Being cut off from my family growing up so many times. Feeling like I didn't belong. When I was younger, I was a very difficult kid, and I started to grow up and mature, and then I lost my mom at age 23. The dominoes fell back down. I was fortunate enough to see her one last time before I got that ill fated call that she collapsed and was in the hospital. She would fight on for about 10 days when she finally died. After that, my family for the most part stopped talking to me. They didn't like that my views were opposite of them. They didn't like that a person who was special to me was helping me to see a different side of the world and felt she was brain washing me. So they would cut me off. Over and over and over again.

I have never gotten over this as it has affected my current situation. I have been impossible to be around because of wounds I have suffered as a child and young adult. I let the wounds of that consume and I caused tremendous pain on someone I love very dearly. Those wounds bled into my current situation and I believe that along with some trauma caused my BPD.

I really felt the pain of Dave and his sister as I read this message. When families fall apart for things like this, its sad. Religion tore the Mustaines apart. Beliefs and thoughts tore my family apart. I think we all need to accept we are different. Different thoughts, different ideas, different ways to live life to the best we possibly can. The things that people forget are one, we don't get another shot at this. Once its over, its over. Two, we should find ways to respect beliefs and not hold judgment. Judgment is an absolute killer.

Sometimes families and spouses hurt each other. Maybe a little bit, maybe very badly. However if we can find ways to open our minds, find some forgiveness, and have fulfilling and honest conversations about things, we could all get closer and feel loved. However, everyone needs to come together. People have to learn how to empathize with their partners, parents, loved ones; they may have been dealing with some internal stuff. The key is no judgment.

It's better to find a way to fix things while alive and not on a death bed. Sure the ultimate gift you can give someone is while you are taking your last breath and freeing them from the pain that has caused, why not try to find a way to heal while alive? Find a way to have those tough conversations to find common ground.

I understand sometimes a situation is so toxic you have to walk away. However, if someone is wanting a chance to do the right thing, don't turn them away. They could be on the cusp of something beautiful and be a source of light and kindness in your life. I think about Dave's joy when his sister finally contacted him after 20 years. I also think about the devastation as the reconciliation would be the final time he saw her.

I know sometimes we have to take care of ourselves, but I also feel we can't rule anything out. We can open the door a little bit at a time. We must also remember sometimes people struggle. Whether it's addiction, mental illness, or just bullshit in general, we have to allow a little space and grace for growth. I'm not saying dive all the way in the pool, but keep the door open a little bit with a light on. Eventually that person will straighten things out and find that crack of light in the hallway.

But let's hope that both sides find each other before it's too late.

Namaste

#mindfullness #breathenbounce #gratitude #bpd #love #forgiveness #family #contrite

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wyn-n-tonic · 3 years ago

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Across the Bridge

Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: Drugs, brief mention of a car accident, amputation, parental death, grief, recovery. As always, if I've missed a warning, it wasn't intentional and please feel free to reach out to me (politely) to let me know and I will remedy that as soon as possible. Author's Note: So.... this has been living as an idea in my head for a few months now and I've been so nervous about writing it. It's not my usual thing and I wasn't sure how it would be received. Thank you to @acedameron for being the first to encourage and champion this. A thank you to @pilothusband, @green-socks and @darnitdraco for hyping me up. And a huge kiss to the cheek for @leannawithacapitala who helped me find the right pictures for this moodboard. Summary:

Ezra has always felt as though lived in his brother Dave's shadow. After years away from the family having turned to drugs, an accident that costs him his arm brings him back into the fold where he learns that his father has died and nobody could find him to tell him. Dave must now rip open his own wounds to help his little brother navigate grief and help him build a relationship with his family again.

MASTERLIST | Ko-Fi | Read on Ao3

It started on The Green, the place all his good thoughts call home; where they’re born, where they die.

It’s the only place he wanted to be, not realizing it was killing him too. That he needed more and more to get there. He needed more and more to reach the good thoughts and he experienced the grief of death with them every day.

Those thoughts had names—mom and dad, Sarah and Dave.

Sarah, the woman he would give every thing to if asked.

Dave, the brother he never could live up to.

When he ceased to be shiny and new is when the pressure started, his older brother less like a role model and more like a jailor as he reached impossible heights. Better, smarter, faster, stronger.

And then there was Ezra, failing in all the ways that was expected. A quiet, shy boy discouraged from following through on the things that he wanted as he searched for something to call his own. Similar in height but different from his brother.

Lanky.

Skin and bones, he rejected everything that was meant to be his because he could never measure up.

He can’t remember the first time he went there, somewhere around junior year. Back then, it wasn’t where he had to be for the good thoughts to come but it is where they came more frequently and, eventually, so did he.

He brought Sarah up here years and years ago, kept her close as they trudged through this little world of theirs. There were jewels in the ground and he gave them to her in abundance, watching her small collection grow like a nest in the small shack that was theirs and theirs alone.

But the gems became scarce, fighting back against him as he attempted to harvest them for her. He told her he wanted to find enough to build a house, shining like a beacon in the Green’s luminescence.

She took ill one day when he was out collecting and he came back to her limp and lifeless, gone from their little world and jumped into the real one.

The brief loss that day didn’t change him; the days in the hospital tucked into the bed besides hers with his brother and his parents begging him to be different didn’t change him.

“For her, Ezra,” mom said, “for her.”

It didn’t stop him. They discharged out into different lives forever intertwined through shared demons and shared blood.

That’s why he finds himself here now. Years of ins and outs bringing him back to this place; every time he got a steady footing on solid ground, clear enough eyes that Sarah gave him another chance, the need to float back into that space would arise.

It became a security for him. Head in the Clouds Ezra, always a disappointment. He saw the way Dave looked at him when he would inevitably show back up, the way Carol’s face would flash from concern to scared and then to annoyed and angry when her belly swelled with new life.

She didn’t want him there. Mom and dad didn’t want him there. He couldn’t look Sarah in the eye anymore and Dave was the only one who ever tried. His beloved brother, the favorite son. Better than he could ever be.

There belonged to him, to them. To the people he left behind and loved.

This sphere, however? This plush foliage with its sparkling stones? This green space illuminated in all the shades of a late afternoon forest?

This belonged to him and he stays here more than not now, having finally given up on going straight and narrow. There was no disappointment in him here.

The world glitters up here, particles of gold floating through the air to catch and reflect the light. So dense that breathing it in is a poison, sending you away immediately. He only does it when he’s tired of it all, tired of the beauty and the good thoughts of things he can never truly have.

They twist inside his guts until he’s near sickness and he throws his helmet off to breathe in the thick, humid atmosphere.

Inhaling deeply, he prepares for the sudden and violent wakefulness he knows he’ll experience on the other side. He takes in the glassy pollen of the Green, the poison that comes with the goodness he craves.

He needs to leave, can feel it in the way he shakes now. He needs to go and find that disappointment in himself again that makes him return to this place. There’s a tingling in his nose, not unlike pure oxygen, and it travels down to his arm; a rippling sensation that starts at the meat of his bicep to the tips of his fingers.

Exhaling, he closes his eyes and waits for the world to snap his lungs whole; to give him the whiplash of reality. He knows he’ll gasp several times when he comes to, choking back his own vomit in a much more stale environment.

Usually there’s a ringing—a siren cleaving through the soft, buttery silence of his safe space—but instead there’s nothing but an echo as his small forest stretches out anew.

It goes on for miles and miles, sprawling endlessly and empty in every direction. No more birds on the branches, no more chirping. The sound of nothing growing heavier and heavier until a twig snaps.

Turning, he sees her, small like the last time but bigger than all the other times before that. Her hazel eyes shine golden in the light and she looks frightened, fragile and shaken to her core.

“Daddy?”

Her little voice falls on near deafened ears, the drums in his head vibrating violently as everything inside of him spins.

Smiling in greeting, he feels the dimples of his cheeks pocketing inward, “Cee.”

“How long has he been like this?”

Dave’s quiet, arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks through the window at his broken baby brother laid out across the bed. His breathing’s shallow, all manner of tubes coming out of him, and he looks so small. He always does in this context, wrapped in the blue and white of hospital blankets.

“We put him in a medically induced coma post surgery,” she tells him, “he was pretty messed up when he came in, we decided it was for the best that he stay asleep after so we can properly monitor the cleaning of his wound and the withdrawals.”

“But how long?”

Everything in his room looks brand new—even him—clean and shiny like the day he came home as a baby. But it is a hospital, the lack of disarray in his room reveals nothing to the time he’s been in it.

“It took us a couple of days to track you down,” she tells him, “but that’s all it was, just a couple.”

He nods, “was there anything else when he came in? Besides the heroin and his arm?”

“Punctured lung, broken ribs.”

He raises his hands to scrub at his face, thinking of the phone calls and conversations—the fights—he knows this is going to cause.

“Mr. York,” the doctor begins again, waiting for him to look up before she continues, “drugs in his system or not…when he does wake up, it’s going to be a lot for him to process and it’s not going to be pretty.”

He huffs a laugh, “pretty isn’t exactly his style.”

She gives him the slightest of smiles and he sees it, the pity in her eyes. He wonders how many fucked up families she sees come through these halls; how many lives torn to shit intentionally or not.

“The other driver,” he starts as she turns to walk away, pulling her attention back to him, “are they okay?”

“There was nobody else, Mr. York, just your brother.”

He inhales slowly, feeling a pressure lift from his body, and exhales as a new weight hits him.

“I think…” he pauses on another deep breath, “I think I’m relieved by that.”

“Tragedy is a funny thing like that,” she looks through the window again, “not everything is black and white. Yes, he’s here and being here isn’t what anybody wants for their loved ones. But, at the same time, he’s the only one here because of his actions, there’s nobody else and that’s where your relief comes from. That nobody else is in this position because of him.”

His arms fold in on themselves again, more like a hug than a cross, and he thanks her for… her time? Her words? All her work? She tells him visiting hours end at eight but he can always come back tomorrow.

It’s nowhere near eight when he walks through that door and sits in the chair beside his bed. He doesn’t know what to do in these situations, which is funny, considering how many times he’s found himself in this exact spot.

Holding his hand is out of the question seeing as he’s on the right side of the bed and it’s Ezra’s right arm that’s gone. Can’t hold a hand when there’s no hand to hold.

He loses track of time in that little chair, in that little room, watching as nurses come in and out. There are pleasantries and similar looks of pity on different faces that say hello. One even asked if they were twins and he told her that he wished that were the case.

He never considered himself particularly strong but he was stronger than his baby brother. He thinks that maybe if they were twins, he could pass some of that along to him.

Footsteps echo through the hallway, hurried and small. So light you’d miss them if you didn’t know them. He looks up at her in the doorway, slender frame stopping short as she takes in the sight before her.

“Daddy?”

“Cee.”

She starts to run forward again but Dave stands to block her, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close as she starts to crumble in his arms.

Pulling her to his chest, he turns away from the man in the bed. “Celia, sweetheart,” he’s cradling her head to his shoulder, “Celia, please.”

She hits him once in the shoulder, the heel of her digging right into where his collarbone ends, and he can feel her tears through his shirt.

“Let me go,” she begs against him.

His back is killing him as he bends to keep her close and his eyes flicker to Sarah in the doorway who mouths I’m sorry when she catches it.

“Is he dead?” Her voice is so small, rough around another choked down sob.

“No, sweetheart,” he tells her, standing straight and leading her back into the hallway, “but all those tubes are what’s keeping him alive right now, we don’t want to disturb that.”

She looks around him, looks at her father again.

“Where has he been?”

He frames her face in his hands, pulling her attention back to him, “he's been through hell.”

Her eyebrows—his eyebrows—knit together in that pissed off expression he always wore as she searches his eyes, “what about all the hell he put me through?”

His heart breaks. Fourteen but still a little girl, all that hurt and those hormones beating against each other like two currents meeting. She tucks her bottom lip beneath her teeth, water welling in her eyes again.

“What about me, Uncle David?”

Sarah steps towards her, hands smoothing across her birdlike shoulders, “Cee, he doesn’t do these things because of you, he was sick a long time before you were here.”

Dave pulls out his wallet, flipping it open and plucking a card out to hand to his niece, “sweetheart, can you go get me a black coffee please? There’s a Starbucks downstairs.”

She glares at him with misplaced anger, taking the card from his hand quietly.

“Get whatever fancy bullshit you want,” he tells her as she turns and walks away.

She’s out of earshot before he or her mother speak, an air of chastisement in both their voices.

“Do you really think sending her away was a good idea right now?”

He feels his jaw click as he grinds his teeth, “you think bringing her here in the first place was a good idea?”

“It wasn’t mine,” she insists, “I didn’t want to but she heard me talking to Carol about it and lost her fucking mind demanding to be brought here.”

“So the kids are calling the shots now?” He laughs, “I’ll be sure to tell Molly so they can coordinate the new rules for the family, make us all eat cake for breakfast.”

“David,” her arms cross, small frame just like her little girl, “you're being unfair.”

“No, unfair is bringing her here to see this. Part of me thinks you did this on purpose because you’re mad at him,” he holds his hand out as she goes to speak, “you have every right to be, but no matter how mad you are or how hurt she is, that is still her dad.”

“You have been more of a father to her than he ever wa—“

“And he looks just like me so no wonder why she’s so fucked up.”

Their gazes hold each others, silence settling back over them as prying eyes start to look away, and he crosses his arms again as he takes a deep breath.

“Take her home, Sarah,” exhaustion is filtering through his every word, “she doesn’t need to see him like this, you don’t need to see him like this.”

The same nurse who asked if they were twins before walks by, excusing herself through the doorway to the room at his back and pulling all of his senses back to the machines powering his brother’s body.

He turns, stepping to Sarah’s side to face what’s ahead of them; so many options inside that man and it all hinges on his waking up. Freeing his arm from his own grasp, he wraps it around her shoulders and pulls her in.

“We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

“What are you doing here?”

Ezra’s eyebrows pinch together as he looks her over in her small suit, so much smaller than his own. She looks so scared, she looks… so much older than he’s ever known her.

“Baby,” he feels his heart kick up, “how did you get here?”

He knows how he did, how he always has and how it almost took her once before when it tried to take her mama.

She doesn’t speak, eyes wide and bright as she looks around and her mouth drops in awe. So much like her mother. Two steps toward him with a slack jaw with a suit of blue and white just like her favorite sweater.

“Cee…”

Her eyes snap to him again, looking him over, and she reaches out still too far away. Lifting his arm towards her too, he notices a lack of weight to it, just a staticky numbness that rises too quickly.

“What happened to his arm?”

Her voice echoes all around him, reverberating in his skull as if she has a microphone and the speakers are in his brain.

His arm it says over and over again, overlapping until it’s all one jumble.

He looks down and it’s gone, nothing there but the faintest phantom ache.

What happened to his arm?

Celia turns, almost as if in slow motion, and takes off in the direction, from which he assumes, she came; new land expanding far beyond her.

“Wait!”

He tries to speak, to scream, but it feels like something's lodged in his throat. Something large and devastating and spanning the entire diameter of his windpipe. Falling to his knees, he grasps around near blind from pain for his helmet that’s nowhere to be found.

“Mom!”

Looking up, he sees how far away she is from him now but the word still rings between his ears as if she were standing in front of him.

Sarah?

It’s the last thing in his mind before everything goes black.

“What's happening?”

Dave has his hands on Cee’s shoulders, leading her out the door after the last nurse filters in and shoos them away.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.”

She pulls away from him, from her mother who’s pulling up the rear, and turns to look at them both with patches of red staining her face in fury, “he's dying, isn’t he? Is that why you brought me here? To say goodbye?”

“That's not—“ Sarah searches for her words, cut short by the terror only a teenage girl can inflict.

They took him off the medicine keeping him asleep this morning. The doctor said it could take a couple of days for him to wake up but they wanted to bring Cee here.

Wanted her to see him now without all the machines hooked into him. They wanted her to see him as if near life.

It’s been three weeks since the last time she was here on that first night she found out. Three weeks of constant check-ins and conversations regarding the preparation should he not make it through. The kind of talks a teenage girl should never have to have but she refused to stay out of them.

Do you think it’ll stick this time? She’d asked them, desperation clinging to her features.

She asked who would speak if something did happen. She asked who would come.

“How do you say goodbye to somebody you don’t really know?” She asked then, the cacophony of the room slipping behind them as they inched toward the door to the waiting room.

“Cee, sweetheart,” Sarah begs as they sit, “that’s not why we brought you here.”

Dave rests his elbow on the arm of the chair, cradling his aching head in his own hand. Several nights in a row now, Carol’s combed her fingertips across his scalp in hope of relieving the pressure. He’d fucking kill for that now. You don’t appreciate not being in a hospital enough until you’re there. A medical fucking prison or fluorescent lighting and shitty food.

He looks around and wonders how the staff here do it. He never wants to see these hallways again when they do eventually take his brother out of here—alive or not.

“Are you cold?”

She’s hunched over, arms folded across her chest with her shoulders curved inward. He’s tempted to hand her his credit card again and tell her to grab a coffee but he knows a doctor could come out at any minute to give them any kind of news and for some reason he just feels better if she’s with them when they find out.

“No.”

Pursing his lips, he nods, “okay.”

After a few moments, her mother excuses herself to run the same errand he’d only just decided again, leaving them in the hovering hushed tones of the lounge.

“Hey Uncle David?”

His eyes are closed as he breathes through his setting migraine, “hmm?”

“Do you think he’ll actually get better this time? Like… not like the last time or the time before that, ya know? But for real?”

Opening his eyes, he sits straight, “do you want me to be honest with you?” His hands are poised to a near steeple resting on his stomach, “or do you want me to comfort you?”

“Come on, I’m sick of the bullshit.”

He smiles, reaching over to pinch her chin softly, “watch your mouth, kid, you know it upsets your mom.”

“I'm serious,” he catches her turning to him in his peripheral, “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Fine,” he turns to her, leaning back on his elbow, “I won’t bullshit you. The fact is, I don’t know what he’s going to do, I don't know if he’ll get better this time. I don’t know if it’ll stick if he does but I’m hopeful.”

She draws her feet up into her chair, knees tucked close to her chest, and she plays with the frayed threads of the rip in her jeans.

“Nothing else to say, Cee?”

She smiles, eyes focused intently on pulling the fibers from her jeans, “it's really bad.”

“I’ve probably heard worse,” he tells her, “I did grow up with him after all.”

“I—um,” she laughs to herself, a small giggle like the one she has with Molly and Alice when they’re up to something.

Huffing a laugh back, he prods, “it cannot be that bad.”

Her mouth closes as she takes a deep breath, “I was thinking that it helps that he doesn’t have an arm anymore.”

Eyes widening, his mouth drops as he sits forward to seek out her eyes. She can’t contain it anymore laughter falling as she dissolves deeper into the hard vinyl of her chair.

“That was fucking dark,” he tells her, “but you have a point.”

“Mom says he’s really resourceful, that if he wants to do something then he will and he’ll do anything to make it happen. That’s what she told me the last time he got clean but…”

He puts his hand over hers, resting them both on her raised knee, “you’re worried about the want for the drugs being stronger than his want for you?”

Leaning forward until her forehead touches the back of his hand, he feels the tears that run down her face; feels the forced air of her shallow breathing as she tries to tamp it all down.

“Mom did it, I don’t understand why he can’t.”

“It was different with your mom, sweetheart, she kinda died. You almost died. It was all really bad and it’s not that he didn’t want to, I just don’t think he understood. He didn’t really experience you the same way your mom did,” he brushes her hair back with his free hand, “death is a supreme motivator to change but, like me with Molly before she was here, I just don’t think he understood the weight of love he would hold for you. Or what it would mean if he never got to experience that love at all, you know?”

“Do you think—” she lives her head, eyes ringed red, “do you think he understood his love for PopPop?”

He nods as Sarah returns, pushing a small cup into his outstretched hand, “I do.”

“You do what?”

Sarah takes her seat again, pulling Cee’s head into her chest and looking at Dave for an answer.

“He thinks dad can make it stick this time.”

The older woman’s face twists in thought as she brings her coffee to her lips, nodding after her sip and beginning to laugh herself.

“To be fair, he doesn’t have an arm.”

Dave leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, “both of you are going straight to hell.”

He doesn't know where he is, held down by strong hands against a soft lump at his back and he can feel everything; he can hear it.

So much worse than that siren, so much louder too. Annoying in the way that tiny dogs are when they bark.

It’s too bright. He tries to open his eyes but it’s too much, he feels like he set his directive toward the sun.

“Mr. York,” he hears over the beep beep beep that seems to rise and fall with every breath, “Mr. York, can you hear me?”

That skull shattering echo is back in his head, scratching at everything as the voice splits into a hundred vocals. A chorus.

His eyes are pulled open, a bright white light is shoved into them as relaxation settles through his body and he melts back into the soft lump he sits on. Back into warmth and comfort. Back into what feels like a right mind.

It’s a series of beeps, high pitched repetition drilling deep into his brain as he’s shuffled and poked and prodded.

He doesn’t have a voice and his eyes are still sensitive to whatever it is around him but his ears… he hears everything. Three—four?—voices overlap around him but none of them are Cee.

Or Sarah.

She’d said mom, hadn’t she?

There’s no one else she could’ve meant and he struggles to speak her name now.

Words scratch up his throat, clawing toward the front of his heavy tongue.

“Cee…”

“See? Mr. York? What do you see?”

“…lia.”

“Who is Leah, Mr. York?”

He feels a firm, warm—he’s so cold—hand take his and squeeze.

“Cee…” he starts again as he feels himself pushed forward slowly, the mechanic burr vibrating through his body.

His eyelids feel sticky, glazed over and heavy from a long sleep. Everything is still too bright and too dark, the figures in front of him a blend of features and shapes.

“Mr. York,” he feels an object at his lips, “can you drink this for me?”

His tongue rolls out of his head like a cartoon as he searches and finds a straw but when he goes to grab at the cup for better leverage, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. York, just let me hold this for you right now.”

Shoulders slumping back, he takes the outstretched straw in his mouth and sucks and feels the cool water across his desert dry mouth.

There’s another echoing chorus of Mr. York that bounces around his head and he puts his hand up as his eyes continue to adjust to the light.

“Ezra, it’s just Ezra,” he takes a deep breath, “where is Celia?”

He hears a hurried whisper, “he means the little girl who’s been in here with his brother.”

“Dave?”

The voices are clearer now, he can make out the differences in pitch and depth but still they speak over him as if he isn’t even there. He might not fully be.

“Go get them,” one of the voices says, “just the brother though.”

“You have a lot of questions to answer, Ez.”

The monitor on his heart evened out after the initial shock, a steady metronome to their now quiet conversation.

“Mom and dad are really mad at me now, huh?”

Dave smiles slightly, sadly, and shakes his head, “no, mom’s worried and dad…”

Ezra laughs, “is pissed at me, I get it by now.”

“No,” Dave says again, “dad’s not pissed at you he’s…” he trails off and runs his hand through his hair, “dad died, Ezra.”

The room is charged now with the current of something else, something different. All the questions Ezra has for everything around him charges into a single, stammered one.

“How?”

If his heart wasn’t broken for the entirety of the situation, it was for this one especially.

He takes a deep breath, “pulmonary embolism a couple years back and we, uh…” he takes another breath in, looking up to the ceiling as he continues, “we couldn’t find you. I looked everywhere and then I just had to stop, you obviously didn’t want to be found.”

“I could’ve been found for that.”

Dave rubs at his eyes with his fingers, pushing the tears out and away, inhaling into heavy lungs as he feels the defeat, “then I could’ve tried harder, I’m sorry.”

Another nurse comes in, different from the one who came to get him earlier, and checks in to introduce herself. Not to Dave, who knows all their names and coffee orders after nearly a month, but to Ezra who has been asleep beneath their care for that same amount of time.

Cee was in here earlier, hugged him with tears in her eyes and then refused to leave when Sarah told her it was time to go.

“There's a hurt I’ve caused you all,” Ezra speaks again, voice still weak, “that I will never understand the true magnitude of.”

“Probably not, baby brother,” Dave scrubs his hand across his ever smooth face again, “and we’ll never understand each other’s pain really, it’s all different.”

“Dad's really dead, huh?” Ezra pushes his head back into the pillows, lolling to the side to look down at where his right arm should be.

“Yeah, Ez, dad’s really dead.”

He continues to look down at the hand that should be there, “and I almost fucked it all up for Cee too, though… I guess it wouldn’t have been much of a loss.”

“That girl loves you.”

“Please,” he sounds so far away and Dave can practically see the way he used to toss his hand up in dismissal, “you're her dad really.”

Dave stands from his chair and leans down to place a kiss on his brother’s temple, smoothing a hand over his hair as he straightens and takes a deep breath.

“Visiting hours are almost done so I’m gonna go,” he says, “I really want you to think about how hurtful it is that you said that—to me, to Sarah, to your daughter. I’ll be back tomorrow with mom, try to get some sleep.”

He turns and heads for the door on quiet footsteps, feeling saltwater sting his lashes again.

“I saw her,” Ezra says quietly as Dave reaches the threshold.

He stops and turns, eyebrows knitting together, “you what?”

“When I was… asleep for all that time, I saw her standing right in front of me. It felt like a singular moment but when I tried to reach for her, my arm was gone.”

He looks so small in the bed. Despite his color returning to him over the weeks, he still looks pale and fragile with tears staining his voice, “I was so worried about how she got there, I thought she was like me.”

Dave releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding, “she’s like you in so many ways but not like that, Ezra.”

Relief floods his face as he swallows and nods, pushing his head further back into his pillow, “okay.”

“I love you.”

It wasn’t an argument, not really. Carol knows the family doesn’t leave their own behind but she’s apprehensive and understandably so. Every time Ezra comes back into the fold, it eventually goes south. It eventually turns into David telling him he’s gotta go no matter how much it breaks his heart.

He knows, though, that under no circumstances will the behavior he so frequently falls into be tolerated. He knows that’s why Dave makes him go. Ezra’s predispositions aren’t suitable to be around the girls, unsuitable to a family at all but, still, he has one.

One that steps up no matter how many times he fucks up and that’s why he finds himself in his brother’s guest room now.

Mom can’t handle him like this. Too infantilizing in his recovery and still grieving in her own ways; wholly incapable of guiding him through his own and the overlapping layers of it.

His father and the relationship he threw away over and over again until his death, the relationship he woke up believing would still be there. His daughter and all the time he missed with her. Himself and never being able to truly be who he is.

The sadness is too much, clawing into the pit just below his heart where he feels as though his soul should be. The doctor recommended an anti-depressant but he denied it.

“I deserve to bear this agony in its fullness, doc.”

It’s an agony that wakes him screaming in the night, his big brother running to his side and pulling him against his chest.

They’re looking more and more alike every day as he starts to fill into Dave’s old clothes—just like when they were kids. The short sleeves aren’t a problem but the long sleeves need hemming, a task that Sarah has taken dutifully to, bringing something new to him every time she brings him Cee.

it’s one of these carefully crafted sweatshirts he wears now as he walks through the cemetery with his brother three months discharged from the hospital.

“Do you consider yourself four months clean?” Dave asks, hands in his pockets as they walk towards their father’s gravestone.

Ezra’s head shakes, a small laugh coming to his lips, “you know, technically I guess I could but,” he sucks a breath through his teeth, “I wasn’t quite conscious for about a month there so I can’t really take credit for decisions I didn’t make for myself.”

“That makes sense,” the slightly taller of the two agrees, pace slowing as they come to a grassy plot, “dad always said take responsibility for your own actions, not the actions of others.”

The stone stands straight in the ground in front of them, gleaming and clean and flanked by flowers.

“Camellias this week,” Dave speaks up, as if reading his brother’s mind, “mom comes out here on Sundays after church, talks to him and brings him flowers. Like he used to do for her when we were kids. Remember?”

Ezra kneels, tears pricking his eyes as he reaches out with his only hand to brush across the engraving.

Joshua David York

1955 - 2018

Beloved husband, father and friend.

Dave’s hand is on his shoulder as he shakes with the sobs of feelings he’s not yet allowed himself to fully feel. He owed his dad the steadiest mind he could give him; never really having had it while he lived, he certainly deserved it in his death. A promise kept that he never could before.

They sit there in the silence of their cries, two brothers falling down next to each other on the ground in a graveyard, crosslegged and soft hearted.

“I hated you,” Ezra speaks finally, “for so long, I hated you because you were perfect and I could never be you and I could never be good enough for mom and especially not for him.”

“I know,” Dave replies, “of course you fucking hated me.”

They look sideways at each other, mirrored crinkles around their eyes as age hit one and hardship hit the other.

As age and hardship hit them both.

“You knew?”

“Yeah, I just wish you could’ve seen that all I ever wanted—all mom and dad ever wanted—was for you to be healthy and happy.”

“Mom and dad wanted me to be you,” the younger’s reply comes quickly.

“No,” Dave’s head shakes, “and maybe they went about it all wrong but they really just wanted you to stop being so far away from them, I wanted you to stop being so far away from me. Maybe we went about it all wrong, we really thought Sarah being in your life was gonna be the catalyst to change it all. And then your daughter.”

“You're disappointed in me.”

His hand shakes and he can feel the itch of his nerves wishing to shake in his long gone other. Helpless to even stand for himself, he stays there in a settled quiet until pulled into Dave’s arms.

“Nobody has ever been disappointed in you, baby brother, we’ve only ever tried to be there for you and we’ve only ever wanted your safety and genuine contentment in life whether or not you decided to have that with us.”

Dave kisses against his brother’s rough cheek and moves to stand, hauling Ezra up along with him before he dusts himself off.

Ezra feels his brothers hands brushing the dust and grass from his own back and looks around, heart feeling helpless and sunken in such a solemn environment and then he sees it. A little bridge that crosses into a lush landscape of trees and dirt.

“I know this place,” he says after a moment, “I’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, when we were kids,” Dave says, “we came here for grandma’s funeral and you hauled ass across the bridge over there. Said you belonged to the greenery now and refused to come back.”

“I don’t remember that part.”

“You don’t remember a lot, in fairness, and that’s okay. Maybe it’ll come back soon, we built a fort in there once and you claimed yourself king of the trees.”

“Can I go in now?” Ezra asks, turning in the dimming sunlight towards his brother.

Dave smiles, “getting dark, Ez, dinner’s soon, but we can come back tomorrow and maybe you can tell me how you got that scar.”

The skinnier man’s eyebrows knit together and he points between his missing limb and his face as he smiles, “which one?”

The car crawls to a stop in front of the cemetery, Dave behind the wheel with Ezra at his side.

They both smile and look towards the back, to where Cee is sitting quietly and contemplative with her headphones covering both her ears.

“Go on then,” Dave shoos him away and out the door, catching his niece’s attention in the process.

She steps out gingerly, pushing the door wide to stand beside her father and turns, looking for her uncle to join her at her side.

“I'm not coming,” comes Dave’s voice as he rolls down the window, “but I’ll be here when you get back.”

She nods, not having really been alone with her father since he practically came back from the dead himself, and takes his hand in hers.

“Where are we going?” She asks as they start to walk towards the back group of stones, “are we going to see PopPop?”

His face twists for a second, not quite in pain, as he thinks. He’s come out here the last few weekends with his brother and taken the bus or accompanied mom when Dave was unavailable. He spent his time with his father, felt as though he’d made some sort of peace with him. Perhaps that peace was only made in that deep pit he feels low in his ribcage but it’s there nonetheless.

“We can,” he finally says, “but PopPop isn’t the reason why I brought you out here today.”

She doesn’t speak as they navigate the terrain, headphones left behind in the car with her book and her pens. Studious. The way he once was.

The family goes on walks now after dinner and she always keeps close to his left side, a steadying hand in his own as they get to know each other again. He looks at her now as she gives that same hand a squeeze, all the attributes of her mother in her face but he sees himself more and more. The same age as Sarah when he first met her.

Finally near his stone, she says, “if PopPop isn’t the reason why we’re here then…”

“That,” Ezra points towards the bridge, “that’s why we’re here?”

“We're going in there?”

She stops, pulling up short as she holds tightly to him and when he looks at her, she looks concerned.

“We don’t have to,” he tells her, itching to reach out and brush her hair behind her ear, “but I’d like to, it’s my favorite place or, rather, it was. Now I come here just to remember why I shouldn’t anymore.”

Her eyes squint, “that doesn’t make any sense, dad.”

“I'm guessing it doesn’t, so let me explain,” he smiles sadly as he inhales, “that's where I used to go when I was trying so hard to escape.”

“You did drugs in the woods?”

He huffs a laugh, a habit not unlike his brother's that he’s picked up in the months he’s been back, “I did drugs wherever I could do them but,” he turns back to the trees and the bridge that leads straight to them, “in my mind, they brought me here.”

“And you come here now to remember why you shouldn’t?”

He nods, “when I was a boy, not much younger than your cousin Alice, I thought this place was magic and full of treasure and apparently I called myself king of the trees but I don't know that I can fully trust your Uncle David about that. But as I got older, as I got more distant and depressed, I stopped coming here and started doing other things. But in my mind, this was the happy place I conjured.”

“Like mine and Molly’s treehouse?” She asks before she starts moving forward again, “that's what this bridge took you to?”

“Mm,” he agrees, “but pretty soon it was the drugs that became this bridge.”

Coming to the edge of where the aged wood meets the even older earth, they stand and take in the greenery that stretches out before them, silence settling in the wake of all their words.

“Hey dad?”

Her bright, hopeful face turns toward him as her grip becomes iron across his fingers.

“Yes, Celia?”

“You’re not going to go away again, right? Not like before?”

“I wouldn’t get very far if I did,” he says, face turning towards hers as he cracks a smile, “I don’t have an arm.”

#dave york #dave york fanfiction #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 fanfiction #ezra (prospect)#ezra (prospect) fanfiction #prospect #prospect fanfiction

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llilywebsurfer · 3 years ago

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Less than a week before I turned 13 years old, I got to see my first PG-13 movie, and also actually got to see it in a movie theater which was actually one of the rarest things in my life. The southern theaters $5 summer movie Tuesdays. Even that was also a rare occurrence for my family. My parents didn't want the kids to correlate driving all the way to town=watching a movie.

But this summer I got to finaly go to a movie. Only reason was though we were in the process of moving. I was in a constant state of mellow fake thankfulness and sadness. I didn't want too seem like it was my parents problem we were moving, it was mine. But my aura must had gotten to my family no matter how hard I tried to hide it.

We had left my childhood home and the small railroad town, and the about 8 girlscout friends I had with it. Saying goodbye to your objectively best friendships ever does that to you. I needed something to be exited about. I needed something to do. We were staying at my grandparents house before we got on the road officially to move, no wifi, no towns close by, no neighbors, and absolutely no books. If you ignore the bible. Farmhandling wasn't exactly a 12 year olds game either.

I remember watching the trailer on YouTube and seeing the ads on Wattpad during the summer. The trailer looked awesome, it looked adult. Picturing a night out to remember. The ads had neon lights and cyber aesthetics that were never seen before. A cityscape decorated in neon and glitter. The marketing was sooo fresh at the time! This is before "euphoria lighting" or "bisexual lighting" was a thing. I had never seen anything with Emma Roberts. I had seen her face from AHS pictures on Tumblr and Pinterest so I just KNEW she was cool. Shes now one of my favorite nepotism actresses. Everything about this movie was cool. I KNEW I had to watch this movie. I even lied to my parents saying it was PG instead of PG-13.

There is no way they didn't know it was PG-13.

But they let me go watch Nerve.

My mom drove me 2 hours into town to the nearest movie theater with my sister's. A dinky little 4 room theater off the highway with a parking lot that was larger than a malls. The carpet was short and faded blue, with occasional brown spots which are probably stains now that I think about it. It's been bulldozed now, closed down like a month after. I was handed $15 and told to buy the ticket myself, even though my mom would be watching something in another room with my sisters. After getting my ticket I remember walking in and sitting down in the front row. I expected there to be a lot of people, it was the opening day of the movie. I remembered seeing how many views the trailer had got, and being astounded that the movie theater had NOBODY in it. The only movie theater within a 50 mi radius. That astounded me. I had a secret movie no one would ever know about.

The teenager from the ticket stand yelled from the projector room that she was going to skip the ads for me. I gave a clumsy little thumbs up. Hearing the creaking of her sitting down on a metal fold out, she must have wanted to watch the movie too.

The movie was fantastic. If this was the first PG-13 thing I ever saw it had to be this. It was fun, the chemistry between Emma Roberts and Dave Franco was so electric on screen.

In fact all of the actors in it were great! The use of electronics in the movie was not bad at all, probably the less egregious use of phones and internet lingo in any movie I've seen. The cinematography was beautiful, lit up my eyes on that dark little room. The sprawling residential New York at night doesn't seem like it would have many sets for beauty. They managed to make it work. The use of lighting has got to be my favorite thing. Just wow. The story had twists and turns and it was acted just perfectly by the leads. Don't even get me started on that soundtrack, I was listening to all that type of music even before the movie came out. The music was put into the movie so well, not just put in because it's a good song.

The movie is definitely a time capsule though. All the actors were really in their prime during the movie or shortly after. All of the music from the movie is definitely from the 2010s grungy sickly-sweet indie sleeze era of the internet. It's a super high produced movie with well-known teen actors of the time in almost every scene. Insanely 2016.

I remember walking out of the theater like a just found the answer to the universe. I felt adult like I had wanted, yes. But the movie, even with all its fluffy teenage Tumblr glamor, had a sort of theme. I was going to live my life like you could die any second, hold what was close to me and never let go. I did that for a while without a single braincell. This was the beginning of my teens in a movie. Make mistakes, take risks, love eachother. Hook up with James Franco's factually hotter brother.

#Nerve #Nerve 2016 #emma roberts #dave franco #indie sleaze #movie #bisexual lighting #Hollywood #Spotify

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mxchellesworld · 4 years ago

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Gloria

Spencer Reid x Latina!Reader

request; Spencer and a reader who is bilingual

synopsis; Spencer turns 30 and spends the day with his favorite people

warnings; just fluff

*I added translations for a few things at the end

a/n; fuck accent marks, all my homies hate accent marks>:( lol but really, i did this in spanish since i speak it and thought it would be cute - i am very happy i got this request! as always enjoy

***

Spencer was proud of his multi linguistic skills, he had worked hard to be able to communicate with others in different languages. However when he wasn’t using his skills in a case or for research, his language skills were put to great use in watching his Russian films and trying to impress you.

While yes you had been together and married for nearing 6 years, it was always his main goal. Even when you first started to get to know one another and he met your parents he whipped out formal spanish greeting, with Elle’s help of course, which immediately had your mother swooning. Papa took some getting used to but now Spencer was his son at heart.

When you found out you were pregnant with your little girl he made sure to get books in spanish as well. According to him the novelas you watched weren’t gonna do much to help but give her more of your sass.

But when she came into the world he was more than overjoyed hearing your cooing over her. The way her big brown eyes lit up hearing your voice in the mornings.

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” you said switching off the sound machine in the nursery. Instantly you were met with the sound of tiny giggles immersing from the swaddle of yellow fluffy blankets in her crib.

Another thing Spencer told you was that talking to babies was key in helping develop their speaking and understanding skills. Of course there was a percentage to accompany the fact but you got the just of it.

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” you said lifting her up and running your fingers through the steady growing curls on the top of her head.

She instantly perked up at the mention of her dad. Gummy smile spread across her chubby cheeks.

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” you finished by rubbing your nose onto hers. She shrieked in laughter, her tiny hands grabbing onto your hair.

After giving her diaper a quick change and dressing her up in her favorite onesie which read ‘daddy’s genius’, of course gifted by the best god mother Penelope Garcia, you walked over to your bedroom.

She clung onto your earrings as you patted down the hall trying to make minimal noise and wake up Spencer. You opened the door to see him still sound asleep having come back from a case late at night.

He was laying on his back, head tilted to the side with one hand under the pillow and the other on his stomach. You watched the rise and fall of his steady breathe in the Halloween t-shirt he slept in.

You smiled at the hitch in Gloria’s breath seeing her daddy first thing in the morning. The way she wiggled her body in your arms just dying to see her favorite person.

You straddled his waist trying to keep your weight on your knees to not wake him up. You then placed Gloria on his chest and let her go to town. Her sloppy kisses on his cheeks woke him from his slumber.

He slowly opened his eyes and let the smile spread across his face, “Oh wow what a way to wake up,” he let out a giggle.

Spencer sat up and held her close to his face, peppering kisses all over her rosy cheeks.

“We wanted to give the best father in the world an early birthday gift. Huh G,” you said calling for the little girl.

She babbled away in agreement making both you and Spencer share a laugh. You got off from his lap and snuggled into his arms.

“Well gracias Gloria,” he said bopping her nose, “I appreciate the wake up.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and watched as the two interacted before getting up to make breakfast.

You left them in bed and went to the kitchen whipping up some pancakes and a bottle for Gloria. When things were finishing up you heard Spencer’s steps coming down the hall.

He sat her in the high chair next to the table and wrapped his arms around your waist as you plated the food.

“Thank you for the best birthday gift I could ever ask for. I love you so much Y/n, you guys make me the happiest man on earth.”

You turned and met him with a sweet kiss, “Love you so much more mi amore. You deserve every bit of happiness Spence.”

Your moment was brought to an end by tiny hands banging on the plastic tray of her high chair. You both shared a look of understanding before you sat in the chair next to Gloria’s.

Spencer sat across from you while the three of you shared breakfast together. Gloria’s attitude was quickly changed by the cut up pieces of pancake you let her munch on.

By the time you had finished breakfast she was ready to be bathed and have some playtime before her midday nap if she was to endure the fabulous party hosted by none other than Papa Rossi.

“I’ll clean up here, you give her a bath and get her ready,” you said taking Spencer’s plate.

“You cooked I can clean this up no problem,” he tried to argue.

“No no you guys have your daddy daughter time. Then you can read her a story before her nap,” you said nodding.

He smiled at you then picked her out of the high chair and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. You could hear him cooing and talking to her as they made their way down the hall.

By 2pm you were getting ready to head to Dave’s house or Uncle Dave as he’s been more recently known. He agreed to host Spencer a little birthday party which consisted of the team and their kids.

After getting gloria dressed she was still fast asleep in her car seat and the ride to Dave’s was smooth with small talk and quiet music on the radio.

Spencer drove with his hand interlocked with yours in the middle, randomly pressing kisses to it during red lights.

“Mama y Papa called to wish you a happy birthday. It was when you were bathing G but they told me to relay the message,” you said playing with the scarf around his neck.

You could see the small blush creep on his face. Any mention of your parents thinking and caring for him hit really hard within him. They knew of his past and did their best to have him know he was truly a part of your family.

“I’ll make sure to call them tomorrow and say thank you. Maybe we can visit them soon, I know they miss Gloria and I really miss your mom’s cooking,” he said with a smile.

Arriving at David’s you were met with the door being ripped open by all the kids of the BAU. The boys were more than happy to wish their Uncle Spence a happy birthday and greet their little girl.

Since she was the only girl of the bunch they had sworn to protect her the best they could. Even if it wasn’t much now, when she got older they would definitely be her playground body guards.

Penelope and Derek then let you guys in and attacked you both in the biggest hugs imaginable.

“Oh hot mama I’ve missed you so much,” Garcia said swaying you back and forth.

“I’ve missed you more Garcia. We should round the girls up and get brunch sometime,” you said with a quirk in your lip.

She instantly lit up and grabbed your hand to take you to the rest of the BAU ladies. You looked back to see Spencer and Morgan laughing as they cooed over Gloria who was now waking up for her godfather.

The rest of the night went down smoothly with Gloria being passed around like a hot potato. Though she never minded, loving the attention from all her aunts and uncles.She was quite the stunner. Even getting Hotch to break character and indulge her in a wholesome game of pickaboo.

A few games were played and stories were told but it was time to cut the cake before it reached anyone’s bedtime.

You sat around Rossi’s yard, the candles reading 30 glowed under the October sky. You all sang and held smiles on your face as Spencer blew out his candles. Gloria bouncing on his lap happily around all the commotion.

While he’d never admit it, you knew he actually didn’t wish for anything. Everything he could ask for was surrounding him at that very moment and he was more than content with the love of his favorite people.

translations

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” - “Where is my pretty princess”

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” - “Lets go wake up dad”

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” - “It’s his birthday today. I think you are the best gift I could have ever given him”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x reader #chellewrites #spencer reid x poc!reader #spencer reid x latina!reader

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hotchley · 4 years ago

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things that happened when hotch first joined the bau

i thought of most of these in the shower. in my opinion, they’re funny.

he got stuck trying to demonstrate how an unsub would have done something and the fire brigade had to rescue him (dave found it hilarious)

he answered his work phone thinking it was his personal phone and accidentally said hey baby to strauss

on that note, she once handed him a juice box because he looked like he was about to pass out and he accidentally called her mom

somebody thought he was just an intern/trainee agent so he got stuck doing admin because he was too southern to explain that he was actually the new profiler

he ate strawberry cheesecake at his first big function and had an allergic reaction in front of everyone. gideon was just confused but dave took him to the hospital

family, friends, potential suspects, potential victims you name it would flirt with him because he was this young man with floppy hair but he was so awkward and bad at accepting compliments that he would just nod and hope that they’d move on

they didn’t and more than once he went home with somebody’s number which haley thought was hilarious because he wore his wedding ring all the time and was never creepy

he slipped down a hill and fell in poison ivy and could tell from the beginning exactly where the rash was developing but he wasn’t about to tell dave because it was embarrassing, so he kept trying to hide it but then dave worked it out and luckily, it was a local case because haley was the only person that he would let near him

more than once, he ended up in a hostage situation because he was basically reid- he’d just go in with no weapon and no vest like hello unsub, i’m aaron

he went too long without sleeping, eating and drinking and just passed out in the middle of the precinct they were in (dave unintentionally caught him)

because it was a case in the south, the admin ladies had already basically adopted him and when he came round, they were all fussing over him and he was mortified

on more than one occasion, other people assumed that he was just the kid or the intern of another agent and because the people involved were either too awkward (hotch), too confused (gideon) or too busy laughing at the people being awkward and confused (rossi) it was an assumption that wasn’t challenged

this is probably part one because i can’t think of any more but i’m sure they’ll come to me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #david rossi #rossi #jason gideon

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homoose · 4 years ago

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: deleted scene 3

Summary: A flipped POV/extended scene from the night reader told Spencer that they’re going to be parents (part x of lhalc)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy, implied sex (obviously lol)

Word count: 2k

a/n: pls this is unedited so just ignore any typos

Series Masterlist

———

They said their goodbyes and final congratulations to Luke and Penny, and then they were sitting in silence in Spencer’s Volvo. She could feel Spencer panicking next to her— in the car, up the sidewalk, across from her in their kitchen. After two weeks of her own internal panic, now she was standing in front of him, and she couldn’t meet his worried gaze.

“Please say something,” he begged.

“I—” She paused, took a deep breath, and forced herself to look at him. “I’m pregnant.”

She watched as his IQ plummeted. “What?”

“I don’t know how it happened. I mean— I know how it happened, I just. I don’t know how it happened.” She laughed nervously, studying his face for any readable emotion. “I’m sure you can tell me the statistics about the effectiveness of birth control—” He opened his mouth, and she held up her hand, begged with watery eyes, “Please don’t tell me about the effectiveness of birth control right now.”

“Okay,” he breathed.

She didn’t think she could handle hearing about it, and besides: “The statistics don’t really matter anyway, because obviously it wasn’t effective, and now I’m pregnant.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, a little like a fish, before murmuring, “You’re sure?”

“I took seven home tests,” she confirmed, voice wavering. “All positive. And then I went to the doctor on Wednesday. To be sure. And she, um— she’s sure.”

He nodded. “How do you feel?”

His tone was even, his face neutral, and she couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She could feel the tears brimming, threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t seem to stay neutral then, frowning and cocking his head. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because we— we didn’t talk about this.” She gestured wildly with her hands, the emotion finally spilling over and her fears toppling out of her mouth. “I never asked you what you want. And I— I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you, or—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He took a step toward her before he froze, cursed under his breath, and asked, “Can— can you just. Just wait here for one minute. I’ll be right back.”

He practically sprinted out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and out of sight. She sank into one of the kitchen chairs and dropped her head in her hands. Now it was all out in the open, and he was already finding it hard to be in the same room with her. He kept a neutral expression for as long as possible, because he was kind, and empathetic, and he loved her. But that didn’t mean he wanted to do this with her.

She was so wrapped up in her abject mom-to-be terror that she didn’t hear him practically tumble back down the stairs. She didn’t hear him sprint around the corner and into the kitchen. But she did hear her name, soft and reassuring, and then he was kneeling next to her on the floor. “Hey, hey— look at me. Y/N, look at me.”

She turned toward him in the chair, and his eyes were soft and reassuring, too. “It’s okay, baby. Are you— are you okay?”

She sucked in a shaky breath. It wasn’t okay, and she wasn’t okay— not until she knew how he was actually feeling. “I— what do you— I need to know what you want.”

“You,” he said plainly.

Her heart flipped in her chest, but she huffed, swiping at her cheeks. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I know. But it’s the truth.” He shrugged. “I want you. Always. And I want you to be happy and healthy. And I want to support you in… whatever you decide.”

He looked down at his hands, and then he looked back at her. “In regards to ‘trapping me,’ it’s— it’s not a trap if I want to be here.”

He brought his hands up into her lap and opened a small velvet box. She stared stupidly at the ring inside for at least seven seconds, her eyes going wide as they came to meet his own. “What is this?”

“I’ve had this ring for… a long time,” he admitted. “ I bought it the week we came back from North Carolina for Thanksgiving, and I talked to your dad about it when we were there for Christmas.”

He scooted closer to her on the floor, his own eyes wet. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He’d had this ring for nearly a year? He’d bought it when they had barely been together nine months? He wanted to marry her?

“I kept waiting for the perfect moment, but I— I could never find it.” He drew his brows together and huffed out a laugh. “I understand now that the problem with waiting for the perfect moment was that—” He shook his head in realization, and then met her eyes. “Every moment with you is perfect. Even when it’s not.” He felt a tear spill over and shrugged. “Because I’m with you. And that makes it perfect.”

She brought her hand up to wipe away his tears with gentle fingers, even as her own tears continued. He smiled at her. “I love you. The most. And I wanna be with you: today, tomorrow, next week, next year… forever. In every perfect moment. And that’s not gonna change. Okay?”

Of all the reactions she imagined he’d have to the news of her pregnancy, she had never imagined this. “Okay.”

He hesitated for a split second, and she saw the first and only shimmer of uncertainty. “Do you wanna marry me?”

She laughed, genuine and joyful. “That’s not how you ask.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Will you marry me?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, all the worry she’d been carrying for the last two weeks just… falling away. “Yes. Yes.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger and then surged up off the floor to wrap her in a hug. “Sorry it took me so long.” She breathed him in, relishing the feel of his body against hers. For the first time in two weeks, she allowed herself to melt into him, no longer worried to be found out.

He held her for a second longer before pulling back to hold her hands, running his thumb along the newly placed ring. “Your answer to this question doesn’t change how I feel or what I want. I need you to know that.” When she nodded, he squeezed her hands. “Do you want to have a baby?”

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her lip. “What do you—”

“No.” He shook his head. “I already told you what I want. I’m asking you. What do you want?”

She rubbed her thumbs absentmindedly over his for fifteen long seconds. The moment of truth, and it came out in a whisper. “I want to have a baby with you.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Fresh tears gathered behind his eyes, and she felt so silly for ever having doubted what he wanted. “We’re gonna have a baby,” he breathed, disbelief dripping heavy over his words. “You’re gonna be a mom.”

She choked out a wet laugh. “Yeah, that’s usually how it works.”

“You’re gonna be the best mom,” he corrected.

“You’re gonna be a dad.” She squeezed his hands. “The absolute best dad.”

He scooped her into another hug, the two of them laughing and crying in the soft light of their kitchen at midnight. She was pregnant, they were engaged, it was all out of order, and she wouldn’t change a single thing about it. Like every other moment with him, it was perfect.

“Your mom’s gonna kill me,” he muttered.

She cackled— well, almost perfect. She grimaced playfully. “Mmm, yeah she probably is. If it’s any consolation, she’ll start with me.” She sighed, smiling tiredly at him. “I love you.”

He matched her smile. “I love you the most. Dead or alive.”

She snaked her arm around his waist, pulling him toward the stairs. “You know… I can think of one thing that might just placate Mama Rose…”

They started up the stairs together. “Do tell.”

Her fingers rubbed along his hip bone. “Do you think Dave would let us use his backyard?”

Spencer pressed a kiss into her hair as they reached the landing and turned for their bedroom, Roald hot on their heels. “I’m sure a bottle of wine and a box of cigars would do the trick.”

“I’m thinking a backyard wedding with your family and mine— here, so that your mom doesn’t have to travel.” She pulled him over the threshold of their bedroom door. “And then we can have a party at the farm for all your new in-laws.”

“New in-laws?” Spencer asked.

“Oh yeah. There’s fifteen aunts and uncles and about fifty cousins that’re dying to meet you.” Spencer’s eyes went wide as saucers, and she laughed, pulling him into her arms. “I’d say there won’t be a quiz, but if any of the uncles find out about the eidetic memory thing, they’re absolutely gonna quiz you.”

She laced her fingers behind his back, drawing him even closer. “But they already love you,” she assured him. “I get a text at least twice a week about you.”

His eyebrows shot up behind his curls. “You do?”

“Mmhm. Asking how you’re doing, are you teaching a new class, where’s your latest case, et cetera, et cetera. All the aunts are nosy as hell,” she laughed. She tilted her head in consideration, lacing their fingers together and leading him toward their bed. “It’s gonna be impossible to keep this a secret for very long.”

He sat on the side of the bed, pulling her down to straddle his lap. “The twenty week mark is usually the green light to start telling people. How— how far along are we?”

“Dr. Layton said probably... about eight weeks.”

She watched as he did the calculations, the realization settling over his face— the drop of his jaw, the arch of his eyebrow, the pink rising in his cheeks. “Oh. Oh.”

“Mm.” She pressed her lips together to hide her smile. “I think we really, um— manifested that.”

“Wow.” She could practically see the memories flashing in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Do you think your dad would sell me that truck?”

“Oh my god.” She brought her hands up to his cheeks, grinning ear to ear. “You’d better come up with a good lie about why you want it.”

His hands traveled over her hips, squeezing gently on their way to her lower back. “You mean I can’t tell Hank that his daughter had se—”

She clapped a hand over his mouth, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed and hovering over him. “Shhhh— he still thinks his baby is an innocent angel. You don’t wanna ruin that for him, do you?”

He laughed underneath her palm and pulled her flush against him. She removed her hand, and he sighed. “I suppose your secret's safe with me. Mostly because I don’t want to incur his wrath.”

“Mm,” she nodded, bringing their mouths together. “Smart man.”

He kissed her, saccharine and slow. She was just starting to relax into it when he suddenly flipped them, knocking a huffed laugh out of her. He peppered light kisses over her face, down her neck, over her racing heart, her sternum. When he reached her tummy, he paused, staring at the barely there bump covered in flowy fabric. And then he pressed his lips gently to it, over and over and over again.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, waiting for him to get his fill. After fifteen kisses, she laughed as she realized he probably never would. He raised his head at the sound, gently resting his chin on her belly, careful not to press too hard. His sweet smile had her tugging him up toward her.

“I can’t believe I was ever worried about how you’d feel,” she whispered.

“I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out,” he countered. “I should have known when you said no to sushi.” He grinned, but then it softened into something more empathetic. “Is that why I couldn’t hug you for the last two weeks?”

She nodded, feeling absolutely ridiculous. He sat up and pulled her with him, his chin hooked over her shoulder and all his long limbs folded awkwardly around her. “Well. I guess I just have to make up for lost time.”

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #homoose writes #lhalc #tmsidk #tmsidk spoilers

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sequinsmile-x · 4 years ago

Text

Fracture

Theo Hotchner breaks his arm.

A mini-fic set post ITSWM. (I know I haven’t finished posting that yet but I wrote some fluff for this universe because I needed the serotonin, and thought you might too.)

Rating: General

Words: 2.5k

It happens in slow motion. Aaron watches as Theo falls from the jungle gym, landing awkwardly on his arm as he hits the ground. There’s a beat of silence, a moment where Aaron thinks everything might be ok when runs over, and then his son starts crying hysterically as he sits up.

When he sees Theo’s arm, bent at an unnatural angle, his first thought is that Emily was going to kill him.

____________

Emily feels her phone ring in her pocket for the second time in as many minutes and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She knows it’s Aaron without looking, having rejected his initial call only a minute before with the intention of calling him back the minute she was free. He never calls her at work, knowing the pressure of her job since he had once done it himself.

He usually texts her, sends her a photo of the kids as they do something adorable or slightly mischievous. Photos of Amelia smiling widely at the camera, or Theo and Jack playing Mario Kart together, matching looks of concentration on their faces. They helped, reminding her of what was waiting for her when she got home from horrific case after horrific case, that despite everything she still had her family.

She’d never tell Aaron that they also hurt at times. Tiny reminders of what she missed out on when she was away.

The fact he was calling her twice in such quick succession could only mean something was wrong.

Emily looks at the team as they deliver the profile to the local detectives. Dave catches her eye and gives her a quick nod as she lifts her phone and tilts her head down a hallway.

She answers the phone just as it’s about to ring out. “Aaron, is everything ok?”

Aaron sighs over the phone. “It’s Theo, he’s okay I promise, but he’s broken his arm.”

For a moment she swears her heart stops in her chest, panic seeping through her body at the thought of her precious little boy being hurt. “He’s not okay if he’s got a broken bone, Aaron.”

“Sweetheart.” He says firmly, preventing her from spiralling any further. “He’s in a bit of pain but he’s ok. He’s just convinced me this means we get to have ice cream for dinner.”

She barks out a laugh that catches in her throat. “That boy will do anything for ice cream.” She pauses to take a breath, her emotions still overwhelming despite Aaron’s attempts to distract her. “What happened?”

“He fell off the jungle gym.”

She frowns at this, indignation running through her veins. “Aaron, I-”

“Yes, I know you told me he has almost fallen off of it before. I can’t exactly tell him he can’t go on it though sweetheart.”

She sighs, and feels the anger leave her just as quickly as it came. She looks over her shoulder when she hears the room full of local officers and detectives start to disperse.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Aaron asks gently.

“Yes please.” She breathes out, and waits a second as she hears Aaron talking to Theo in the background, the sound of the emergency room they were in almost drowning out their conversation.

“Hi, Mommy.” He sniffs, sounding incredibly sorry for himself. Her chest feels tight at the sound of it, at the use of the name ‘mommy’ when her 8 year old had mostly been calling her ‘mom’ lately.

“Hi, sweetie. How are you feeling?”

“My arm hurts.” He grumbles. “The doctor said I could get a cast in any colour.”

“Really?” She asks, voice full of fake enthusiasm. “What colour are you going for?”

“Green.” He sniffs again, a sign that he had been crying that broke her heart. “Are you coming home?”

Emily closes her eyes, and she blows out a breath. “I can’t, sweetie. I’m working, remember? I’m in Texas.”

“Okay.” The disappointment in his voice is palpable, and it takes everything in her to not start crying there and then. Thoughts of how she could leave in the middle of the case, assign someone else as agent in charge and just go home and hug her son.

And maybe smack her husband for letting Theo go on the jungle gym in the first place.

“Emily.” Dave’s voice interrupts her and she turns to look at him, holding up a finger to show she just needed another minute.

“Theo, honey, I’ve got to go okay. I love you so much. I’ll call later.”

“Love you too.”

She smiles at that, as she has done every single time since he first said it. “Can you pass me back to Dad?”

There's another shuffle on the other end of the phone, a quick curse from her husband as one of them nearly drops the phone. “Sweetheart?”

“I’ve really got to go, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, we get it.” He reassures, clearly able to hear how sad she is, how torn she is over what to do. “Theo gets it too usually, you know you’re the first thing any of us wants when we’re sick or hurt.”

Emily nods despite the fact she knows he can’t see her, and she hastily wipes away the tear the movement drops onto her cheek. “I know, you Hotchner’s really can’t cope without me.” She jokes.

“We can get by until you wrap up the case.” He replies, and she can just imagine the grin on his face, the way it would bring out his dimples. “I’ll text when we’re home okay?”

“Yeah, thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

She hangs up the phone and turns back to Dave, who is standing behind her still, with concern all over his face. “Is everything okay at home?”

Emily sighs as she puts her phone back in her pocket and starts to walk back to the conference room, Dave keeping pace at her side. “Theo’s broken his arm, so Aaron took him to hospital.”

Despite how neutrally she tries to say it she clearly fails, Dave coming to a stop and putting a hand on her arm. “The poor kid. We can always manage here if you need to head back.”

She frowns at him. “I can still do my job, Dave.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I never said you couldn’t, Bella. I just know that you aren’t going to believe he’s fine until you see him for yourself.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I am fine.” She practically growls at him before walking past into the conference room.

“Yeah.” Dave says to himself. “That was definitely said in a way a person who was fine would say it.”

____________

Emily was aware that she was in a foul mood, snapping at the team as they asked questions or every time they came up against a dead end. The need to get home as quickly as possible clawing at her throat. Photos that Aaron had sent her the night before of Theo with his bright green arm cast, and a bowl of ice cream in front of him only further deepening that need.

It culminates in her shouting at Derek like she never had before, something that made him say the ‘Hotch attitude’ was finally rubbing off on her. She threatened him with victimology for the rest of his career and then stormed out, ignoring the way the locals looked at her as she did.

She finds solace in the women’s bathroom, or at least she did right up until Dave followed her in.

“You shouldn’t be here, Dave.” She says as she briefly turns to look at him, before going back to looking at her weary face in the mirror. Sleep had not come easy for her the night before, George Foyet always making his way back into her subconscious every time someone in her family was hurt.

“Neither should you, Emily.” He clears his throat, clearly ready for an argument. “Which is why I’ve booked you a flight home.”

Emily turns quickly at that, stares him down. “You did what?”

“I booked you a flight, it leaves in two hours. I’ll drive you to the airport.”

She takes a step towards him and crosses her arms across her chest. “I can’t just leave in the middle of a case. I am the Unit Chief.”

“And you’re a damn good one, but you’re also an excellent mother. And I know that you need to see your little boy more than he needs to see you.”

Emily stares at him before nodding, relenting to doing exactly what she had been wanting to do in the 30 hours it had been since Aaron had called her. “You’re right. I’ll go. But I expect updates about what's going on here.”

“As you wish.” He stands out of her way so she can get past him and leave the bathroom. “The ticket is first class by the way, so drink some free champagne and do everyone a favour and chill out.”

Emily grimaces as they walk back towards the conference room. “Have I really been that bad?”

“You owe everyone at least one drink. I think you owe Derek a month off of paperwork.”

“He wishes.” Emily scoffs.

____________

Aaron watches in amusement as Amelia climbs onto the couch next to Theo and starts to, not very gently, stroke his hair. It’s what Emily did for all of them, Aaron included, when they were sick or hurt and Theo lets his sister do it, despite it clearly being the last thing he wanted. Watching his two year old daughter mirror her mother made his heart constrict, and he wished more than ever that his wife was here.

His phone rings and he grabs it, smiling as he sees Emily’s name and picture on the screen. “Hey, how are things?”

“I’m on a plane.” She replies, a small laugh in her voice. “Dave bought me a ticket and drove me to the airport. Took me as far as security would let him to make sure I got onboard.”

Aaron couldn’t pretend he was anything other than relieved. He’d noticed the tension in his wife during the brief phone calls and text exchanges about their son’s injury. Not to mention Theo was miserable, barely putting up with his little sister's antics anymore, and getting crankier by the second.

“What time do you get in?”

“Too late for you to even think about picking me up, I’ll get a cab home.”

He wants to argue, to go get her and tell her everything is fine, but he knows that's not what she needs him to do. She would want him here, in their home, with their kids. “Okay, just text me when you land.”

“I will. Love you.”

“You too.” He says as he hangs up.

“Everything okay, Dad?” Jack’s voice comes from behind him.

Aaron turns to look at his 17 year old son. “Yeah, Emily is on her way.”

Jack smiles at him, the same smile he inherited from Haley. “Uncle Dave sent her home?” Jack laughs at Aaron’s nod. “That’s a whole day sooner than you said it would happen.”

Aaron laughs. “She must have been in a really bad mood.”

____________

When Emily gets home it’s already well past Theo’s bedtime. As soon as she is in the house she sneaks into his bedroom and her chest tightens at the sight of his bright green cast laid on a pillow next to him. Archie held tightly under Theo’s good arm. She walks over to his bed and presses a kiss to his forehead, whispering apologies for not being home earlier into his hairline.

Amelia is also asleep. Emily sits down on the edge of her bed and tucks her in a little bit tighter and runs her fingers through her daughter's increasingly unruly hair.

Jack was still up, playing video games online with his friends. She pops her head in his room and quietly says hi, aware she had accidentally embarrassed him in the past. He throws her a grateful smile and a wave and she closes the door behind her.

When she gets to her own room Aaron is sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her, and immediately stands as she closes the door behind her. She’s in his arms before she can really register it, and the lump that had sat in her throat since Aaron called her about Theo dissipates almost immediately.

Emily wraps her arms tightly around him, and presses her face into his soft t-shirt. “Hey.”

Aaron presses a kiss to the top of her head and rubs a hand up and down her back. “Hey sweetheart.”

He encourages her to get ready for bed, and joins her. Their nighttime routines are easily done around each other, years of practise behind them. Once they settle into bed he immediately pulls her into his arms and rests her on his chest.

“You ok?” He asks gently, fingers running up and down her arm.

“Yes.” She swallows against the word, and it tasted like a lie. “No. I just feel like a bad mom.” She admits into his chest, the fear that had been circling around in her head for longer than the last couple of days bursting out of her. “I know I’m not.” She says as she feels him take in a breath to admonish her, and she rubs the tension from his chest with the palm of her hand. “Being their mom is my favourite thing, but when I can’t be here when my son hurts himself...it really sucks.”

Aaron hears the way her voice cracks, and the way her body shudders when she tries to hold back the tears he had no doubt she had been putting off since he called her to tell her about Theo’s accident.

“You’re okay, Em. And so is he.” Aaron kisses the top of her head. “He’ll be so happy when he wakes up to see you tomorrow, and I’ll go back to being second favourite even though I gave him ice-cream two days in a row.”

She pushes herself up by the hand on his chest, her tearstained face coming into view. “Two days in a row?”

____________

Theo is delighted to see her the next morning, all but forgetting about his broken arm as he launches himself at her. He begs her to sign his cast, to draw a picture on it for him, and she smiles when she sees the scribbles on it clearly left by Aaron helping Amelia hold the pen.

When her daughter realises she is home she squeals and demands to be held by her mother for hours.

They watch a movie together, all of them piling into the living room. Theo chooses the movie, Monsters Inc, and Aaron levels a glare at Jack when he opens his mouth to complain.

“Breaking your arm is fun.” Theo exclaims as he sits in between his parents, ready to watch his favourite movie.

Aaron and Emily exchange a look over the top of their son’s head and they both suppress a laugh.

They were all going to be fine.

#Hotchniss #hotchniss fic #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #WTB Universe #ITSWM #David Rossi being a busy body #The OG hotchniss shipper #mini fic

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peachpitfics · 4 years ago

Text

Mistletoe

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Summary: Every year Rossi holds a Christmas Eve dinner, the Team and their little families attend. This is your first one, and coincidentally, you get caught under the mistletoe.

Length: 2.6k

Pairing: SpencerReid x Female!Reader

Content Warnings: ~none~

A/N: Hiiii, this is super fluffy and sweet. Hopefully the first of a few Christmas themed fics. I hope you like it!!

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You never had anywhere to go for the holidays. You had no real family, moved to a new state, and joined a new force only a few weeks ago. The new team you worked with was a tight knit family. They had been together for years and while they were welcoming and did their best not to exclude you, it was hard to bear the inside jokes and recalling of memories you were not a part of. What shocked and surprised you most about their bond, was the family Christmas held at Rossi’s huge house. Everyone, and their families would come, eat a glorious Christmas dinner, and spend it together.

You rang the doorbell and stood, rugged up on the doorstep, huge wooden and glass double doors in front of you. Dave answered the door, arms wide open as he took you in a loving embrace. “Thanks for inviting me” You shuffled into the house awkwardly, passing Rossi two bottles of wine as he showed you where you could shed your winter coverings. Rossi’s house was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. You were sure it had to have been professionally done. “Thank you y/n, this is great. I’m so glad you could make it out here tonight” Dave beamed at you, “And you look beautiful”. You hadn’t put too much effort in tonight but dressed nicely for dinner at least. What he said made you blush; you hid your face as he led you into the dining room. “Hey! Looks who’s here” Morgan smiled across the table. Garcia, sitting next to him, waving overly excitedly. You waved back, clearly not having had any eggnog. As you sat down, in between Hotch and JJ, Hotch poured eggnog into your glass and clinked glasses with you. “We’re just waiting on the kid, he said he was on the phone with his Mom. But he should be almost here” Rossi shared with them.

They all sat around the table, laughing at Garcia who was intoxicated, conversing over Christmas memories from their childhood. Not all of them were overly happy memories, just thoughts of a simpler time. “What about you, y/n? Favourite Christmas memory from when you were a child?” Hotch asked. Emily looked worriedly at you, she had been the one you spoke to and got to know out of everybody. “Well... um” Clearing your throat, you paused as Spencer walked in and slipped into his seat beside Garcia and across from you. “Yeah, okay. I think I was about 8... I was in my second group home and there were about 15 kids of all different ages. The church choir stopped by to sing carols to us in the evening; and, uh, we had a roast chicken, a lot of us had never experienced Christmas before so it was pretty wonderful. The church also brought us a box of second-hand toys, which was lovely. I think that’s probably the best one” Everyone stared at you in awe. The type of awe you were dreading. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat as they started to notice that the staring was out of control. “I didn’t know you were a foster kid” Morgan said somberly, having grown up in an area with a lot of foster kids himself. “Yeah, I was. It wasn’t so bad” You smiled softly, begging someone to take the attention off of you. “Sorry I’m late, you guys, my Mother was reminiscing about Christmas in 1969” Spencer chuckled awkwardly. And that was the end of it, their focus was changed, and Spencer was explaining his Mother’s story, which in turn was quite boring.

Within 30 minutes, Rossi and several servers emerged from the kitchen, bringing platters and large bowls and more wine. It was the most extravagant thing you’d seen in your whole life. I’ve never even been a restaurant this nice, you thought to yourself, watching as they served. Rossi held in his hands an exceptionally large knife, whilst standing over the bird, gathering everyone’s attention. “For me, Christmas means being with family. Sharing it with you, makes it the most precious and special time of the year” Rossi paused, “To family”. Everyone raised their glasses and repeated the toast back to him. He carved the meat, and you all passed the fixings round the table. It was the most delicious food you’d ever had. You began to wonder if everyone with a family had a lovely Christmas like this every year.

Before long, the kids were playing hide and seek throughout the house as all the adults made their way into the awesomely large sitting room. Everyone gathered around, sitting in the settee’s or on the rug by the fireplace. “Anyone care for brandy and a cigar?” Rossi asked. “Am I in a game of Clue?” Garcia looked around the room, “Where the hell is Miss Scarlet, I want to ask her some questions”. People snickered at her comments, she got more sarcastically funny as she got further intoxicated. “No seriously, would anyone like a drink?” Rossi stood by his sideboard bar, crystal decanters lined up with matching glasses. “Scotch, for me Dave, thank you” Hotch nodded. “I’ll take one of those as well” Emily smiled. “Not for me, I’m driving” Will grinned at JJ, hoping she would have another drink and let her hair down a little. You noticed this and nudged JJ in the side, “I brought more wine” You raised your eyebrows cheekily at her.

She looked long and hard into your eyes, really thinking over how hectic the headache was going to be in the morning. “Screw it” She mumbled, caving in to your devilish look, “Go get the wine” She lightly tapped your arm. “Oh no, come on y/n, I’ll go” Rossi offered. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’m sure I won’t get lost on the way back or anything” You giggled, jumping up from the floor and heading towards the big arch way through to the foyer. “Hey, y/n!” Spencer stopped you in the doorway, “Would you mind getting me a glass of water?” He asked in a soft tone. You nodded happily; it was an easy request.

“Hold on...” Hotch said quickly. They all stared at you again. “You can’t move” Hotch smiled gently, “You’re under the mistletoe”. Everyone laughed and gaped as Hotch caught you out under the mistletoe. “What do you mean I can’t move?” You laughed, as if this were a silly game. “In the Rossi house, if you pause under mistletoe and get caught out, you have to wait there until someone kisses you” Dave explained. Obviously Hotch had been caught before and was now pointing out Rossi’s next victim. “Who’s gonna do it?” Garcia looked intrigued, waiting for the war between them to begin while you stood there, knees shaking at the thought of having to kiss someone on the team. “Well, I’m out” Rossi said, having reconnected with an old lover recently. Will and JJ snuggled closer together, that was an obvious no. Hotch uncomfortably sat back into the settee, smiling cheekily into his glass.

A few faces turned to Morgan. “Hey now, that’s usually my style, but I’m seein’ somebody at the moment” Morgan shrugged, hoping Penelope wouldn’t pull him apart over the comment he made. Which inevitably, she did. “Can’t I just go to the kitchen, come on, this is silly” You spoke over them, they were discussing among them who should be the one to kiss you and set you free from the nasty grip of the mistletoe. “It’s gotta be Reid” Emily’s voice rang out over all of the incoherent babbling.

Spencer had been laughing and watching this unfold around him, blending into the leather settee like a chameleon. Now that the faces turned to him, he flushed red and he eyes grew wider. “Ha ha, you guys” Spencer tried to redirect, blushing madly “Emily, it’s you! You know it’s you” He laughed awkwardly. “It could be me; I just don’t really think that’s y/n’s speed... whereas you...” She let the rest of the team join in on the end. “Yeah I don’t think she swings that way” JJ looked back at Emily, shaking their heads together negatively. “Which leaves you Spencer, everyone else is attached at the moment” Hotch's voice seemed confident and firm, but had a hint of a giggle in it.

This started to seem like a set up to you, everyone was grimacing, smirking up at you. No one else tonight had been caught under mistletoe and there was no shortage of it in this house. You crossed your arms in front of you and lovingly glared back at each of them. “Come on Spence” JJ grabbed his knee and shook it, as if this provided some sort of moral support. “Spencer! Spencer! Spencer!” Penelope started a chant and within seconds, they had all joined in. “Okay! Okay, okay, you can stop doing that now. The peer pressure has worked” Spencer’s face couldn’t not smile. His cheeks tugged tightly at his lips, and though his face was red, he looked pleasantly excited. Reid stepped over JJ and slowly approached the door frame. He got closer to you, looked into your eyes, and pursed his lips, eyes widening as if to say, “This is weird”. He rocked back on his heels for a moment, hands awkwardly in his pockets. You remained still, one eyebrow raised in shock, arms still folded in front of you. “Come on pretty boy, we haven’t got all night” Morgan teased, Garcia gripping onto him, her eyes as wide as possible so she didn’t miss anything.

In an instant, he lunged forward, a hand landing on your cheek and one at the small of your back. Spencer planted his lips onto yours, you could almost feel him smiling into it. Your arms softened and untangled as they found their way onto his chest in front of you. As you parted, the embarrassing hail of whoops and clapping arose. Spencer stepped back giggling, hiding his face from his colleagues. You pursed your lips together and held your fingers to your lips briefly, surprised at how good that felt. “I’m gonna go grab that wine now” You blushed, laughing along with the hyenas in the sitting room. Pausing slowly at the fridge, your head hitting the metal, you exhaled from deep in your lungs. Never in your life did you think you would be in such a position. But you were happy and almost grateful for your embarrassing workmates.

You returned with the wine, rose coloring still in your cheeks. Spencer was now playing with the kids under one of the many Christmas trees and you retook your position on the rug with JJ and Will, pouring them both a glass of white wine. No one teased anymore, no one laughed. There were just separate pods of conversation. Eventually, after picking up sleepy children off the couches in the lounge room, JJ and Will were thanking Rossi for such a lovely evening. Hotch not far behind with Jack. Those that were left were Morgan and Penelope, desperately arguing over whether or not ‘Die Hard’ was a Christmas film. Rossi and Emily, who were debating finer Scotches and Whiskeys. You watched on, amused by their friendships, and longing to be one of them. Until you noticed that Spencer had gone. You got up from the rug and wondered through the house, finding him on the balcony off the dining room.

You unlatched the door, alerting him to your presence. “Hey” He smiled softly at you. “Hey” You sounded unsure, “I’m sorry if that was super weird for you in there”. He chuckled under his breath slightly as you approached and stood next to him in the cold night air. “You know, I thought it would be... But it was... nice” He nodded, tucking his smile into his scarf. You tried to look away, hiding the permanent smile plastered on your face. “It was nice” You said gently. Spencer turned towards you, and unintentionally looked you up and down, “You must be so cold” He said, shedding his coat and draping it across your shoulders. You looked at the soft brown tweed and curled your nose, “But now, you’ll be cold”. “Doesn’t matter” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Spencer I-” He interrupted quickly, “Can I have a do over?”. “Sorry, what?” You shook off whatever you were going to say and clarified you heard him correctly. “I just- I would have kissed you differently, had they not set me up and cheered like an audience” He closed his eyes, “ I would have kissed you differently”.

Without saying anything, you slid your icy cold hand into his. Warmth radiated from his large hands as his fingers slid between yours. You pulled his hand and turned him to face you. “You can kiss me again” You mumbled. His eyes were so dark and deep, he held eye contact with you, bringing his face slightly down to meet you in the middle. His soft lips, tripping over yours hungrily. His breath warm on your face. His tender hands, not so gingerly on respectful places on your body like before. One hand slid up to your neck, lightly holding on, but eventually wrapping around to grasp the back of your neck. His other hand placed further south of the small of your back, pulling your whole body into him as his tongue delved into your mouth. You tried to move your hands, you tried to do anything, but your brain was completely overwhelmed and stunned by the warmth and pleasure washing over you.

He pulled away, kissing your cold nose, along your jawline. Pressing on last kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. Your body sunk into him. Even without his jacket, he was still so warm, and it was so inviting. You wrapped your arms around his back and held onto him as tightly as he held onto you. “This is a better Christmas story than the one I told before” You muttered at a giggle into his woolen jumper. Spencer smiled into the nape of your neck. “God, I hope so” He laughed, and you felt his whole body move against yours. After a while, you parted and just stood snuggled together on the balcony. “They really set us up, big time” You pondered. “I can’t believe Emily blabbed” Spencer shook his head. You looked sharply up at him. “Blabbed?” You asked confusedly. “Yeah... I kind of told her I had a crush on you” He tried to hide his face but you wouldn’t let him, you grabbed his hand and held it in your own. “Oh my god” That same old shocked expression was strewn back across your face. “I know, it’s super embarrassing and I’m sorry I didn’t -“ You interrupted him this time, “No, Spencer, I told Emily I had a crush on you” You said quickly, without thinking.

Both of you, stunned, really thought about how devious Emily was. Why did we do that? You asked yourself; the answer quite simply was, she was a very open person and people often told her their secrets. “I guess, I’m glad I told her” Spencer smiled, “Because otherwise I never would have got to kiss you”. You leaned up to his lips and kissed him again. “Now, you can kiss me anytime you want” You whispered to him, that gorgeous smile still fighting its way onto his face.

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Inside, Emily and Rossi stood in the doorway of the dining room, peering out onto the Balcony like a pair of sneaky teenagers. They had been watching for several minutes, and though they couldn’t hear the conversation, they knew they were busted for setting the whole thing up. “Thanks again, Dave” Em raised his glass of scotch to Dave’s brandy, both of them grinning like school girls. “Absolutely anytime, my dear” They clinked glasses and walked steadily back into the sitting room, arms around each other.

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