#Best Hair Color in Jacksonville

[beautyminutes]

A recipe that intensifies and lengthens hair and treats hair loss and breakage

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[paytato435]

Snapper and Stinkpot Character Ref: Angel!

Been meaning to do this for a looong time, but I’m going to be taking the time to make character sheets for some characters in my au. More about Angel under the cut!

Angel Nadine Bridge - 15, she/her

Birthday: March 5th (Pisces)

Angel is a sophomore in high school and is a co-captain on the field hockey team with her best friend, Marina. Things take a turn for the worse, however, when Marina mysteriously disappears just before school starts.

Angel’s family is from Jacksonville, Florida, but she and her brother Ryan moved to New York to live with her grandmother when she was little. Her older brother practically raised her, and she looks up to him a lot. When she was 12 she got her ears pierced and her mom hated them, so she’s gotten more piercings over the years to piss her off. Ever since she was little, Angel has seen the world a little differently from others, and while some people might call it synesthesia, it might turn out to be something a little more?

Songs that make me think of Angel: Lost Kitten by Metric, Any Colour You Like by Pink Floyd, Stupid for You by Waterparks

Light Spoilers for the AU: Angel has a hard time admitting it, but she has a really bad crush on Casey Jr. So she does what any reasonable teenager would do and bullies him any chance she can get. Nose? Wack. Gap tooth? Gross. His smile is so stupid she can’t even. 😒 I heard somewhere that daughters fall in love with people like their dad’s, so I’ve kind of taken that and ran with it when I was writing her as a love interest for Casey. (Casey is the daughter in this analogy, lol.) Angel shares a lot of similarities with Leo! She’s a natural leader, loves to annoy the people closest to her, and is a massive attention seeker. Also her head is shaped like Leo too because that makes my life easier.

Wait, isn’t she a little familiar? Yes! Angel appears in TMNT 2003 and in IDW. This is my interpretation of her in the Rise universe. 😊✨ I grew up watching TMNT 2003, and Angel was my favorite character. I haven’t gotten very far in the IDW comics, but I do like Angel’s design there too and used it as inspiration. My Angel would absolutely dress up like them (maybe not as Nobody or whatever the hell she’s wearing to Casey and April’s wedding tho). Also fun fact, I don’t pay attention to how long her hair is at all whether it’s up or down. It is the exact length it needs to be in that moment. In my initial drawing of her she had green eyes, but I don’t really draw any of the characters with eye colors so they can be whatever unless I change my mind. In real life I think her hair is the same color as Casey’s but I draw her with dark purple hair so she stands out more from him and also because PURPLE.

Sunshine Turtle Casey

[inxspacetime]

❝ he's got so much in his heart, but he doesn't know what to do.❞

｡:*STATS<>

NAME: Dillon Oscar Holt NICKNAME(S): Dill AGE: 49 BIRTH DAY/ZODIAC: December 9th, Sagittarius BIRTHPLACE: Jacksonville, FL CURRENT LOCATION: New York/Florida OCCUPATION: Music producer HAIR COLOR: Brown EYE COLOR: Hazel HEIGHT: Six foot four (6'4'') OTHER NOTED FEATURES: A small scar/mark on his right cheekbone. +: Gregarious -: Inappropriate ｡:*<TRIVIA>

Older brother of Blake Hoyt.

Mostly known for being a bassist and co-singer in Empty Heads, a punk-pop/rock band. The group lasted from the mid-late 90’s to the early 2000’s releasing two full length albums but disbanded while making their third.

Though that’s his most successful attempt, it wasn’t his first. He’s been in a few different bands, all within the same sphere of genres. He even released solo material in the mid-late 2000’s after the disbandment (with okay success). Since then, he’s focused his energy more on writing and producing for other artists (and even manage one or two on occasion), but he still occasionally releases here and there.

A real free spirit. He overdid it a bit in his twenties, and for some of his thirties. But he was eventually able to reel it in a bit - at least enough to keep himself out of too much trouble. He still knows how to have a good time, but he does his best to be responsible about it. 

Faceclaim is Ben Affleck.

｡:*<>LINKS

Face

Body

Musings

Wardrobe

Crushes

Threads

Memes

[comeforthepizza]

Showbiz Pizza Magic Night (1984), Segment 7: "Letters to Looney Bird #2/Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" Transcript

Note: Here we are, at segment seven of Magic Night, with the second Letters to Looney Bird segment and Beach Bear's cover of Every Little Thing She Does is Magic. This was probably the hardest segment to do because it gets so unhinged so fast, but I did my best! Only one more segment after this one, but if you missed the rest of them, you can find links to them all at the bottom of the script. You can find the footnotes in the same area.

Some extra stammers and stutters omitted for clarity's sake.

As always, if I've made any mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them ASAP!

MAGIC NIGHT 1984

SEGMENT SEVEN: "LETTERS TO LOONEY BIRD #2/EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC"

Featuring:

Burt "Sal" Wilson as Fatz Geronimo

Aaron Fechter as Billy Bob Brockali and Looney Bird

Duke Chauppetta as Dook LaRue

Shalisa Sloan as Mitzi Mozzarella

Rick Bailey as Beach Bear

----------

FATZ: Hello, hello, hello! And welcome back to Magic Show here at Showbiz Pizza Place. Now, this next song certainly conjures up a special feeling of magic in my heart. It’s called, Every Little Thing She Does is Magic and it’s by a band I’m sure you’re all familiar with called The Police.

LOONEY BIRD: Wait, Fatz, wait! Hold on! Before you play your next song, I wondered if you’d mind if I did a little segment of Letters to Looney Bird.

FATZ: I don’t know, Looney Bird. I like the show and everything, no offense, but I’m just about to sing a song and I’d like to use these few minutes for my own little introduction, if you know what I mean. So, uh, it’s not often I get to visit with the audience here. I like to talk to them just a minute, you know.

LOONEY BIRD: Okay, okay. Well, I’ll be real quick. And besides, the next letter was written to you.

FATZ: No, I said, it’s, uh… What?

LOONEY BIRD: Yeah, to you.

FATZ: … It’s written to me?

LOONEY BIRD: Yeah. Yeah.

FATZ: Well, why didn’t you say so? That’s a horse of a different color!

LOONEY BIRD: Yeah, okay. Well, thanks, Fatz!

FATZ: Go right ahead and read it there! Uh-uh, yes! Take all the time you need.

BILLY BOB: See, Looney Bird? All you had to do was ask politely. A few good manners goes a long way!

FATZ: Read the letter, Looney Bird.

LOONEY BIRD: Yeah, okay, quiet on the set. Give me my music!

(The band cues up the Letters to Looney Bird music and sound effects, underscoring LOONEY BIRD’s dialogue.)

LOONEY BIRD (Cont.): And now, Showbiz Pizza Place proudly presents: Letters to Looney Bird! An in-depth look at characters, places, and even some other characters here at Showbiz Piz-

FATZ: Read- Read- Read the letter, Looney Bird.

LOONEY BIRD: Your host today is me, the Looney Bird, the world-renowned, uh. Okay. Okay, I’ll read the letter. Forget the intro.

(The music and sound effects fade out.)

LOONEY BIRD (Cont.): Okay, here’s the letter. This letter is written from eight-year-old Debbie Hawkins of Jacksonville, Florida. We got anybody from Jacksonville out there?

FATZ: Uh, read the letter, Looney Bird, I wanna hear what you’re telling me.

LOONEY BIRD: Okay, okay. Okay, yeah. Quick, quick, here it comes. “Dear Looney Bird, I am writing you this letter because I have a crush on Fatz.” Yeah, yeah! “But please don’t tell him because I would just die.”

(This draws laughter from a few members of the band.)

FATZ: Read it, Looney Bird!

LOONEY BIRD (Cont.): “Could you find out how old he is, so I can know what the chances are of us going steady? I am only eight, but my daddy says I’m real mature for my age. Thank you very much. Love, Debbie Hawkins.” Well, Fatz, do you have an answer for Debbie?

FATZ: Uh. Well-

DOOK (In a mocking falsetto voice.): “Will you go steady with me, Fatz? I just love those big muscles and black hair!”

(This draws more laughter.)

FATZ: Hey! Dook, if you don’t quit that-

BILLY BOB: Come on, Dook, hey come on, let’s-

FATZ: Hey! Cut the sarcasm back there, if you don’t mind. Now, uh, what was that question, Looney Bird?

LOONEY BIRD: Debbie wants to know how old you are.

FATZ: Oh, that’s right. Uh, let me see, uh… How old I am… Uh… I don’t know. 20? 30? 40? Beats me! I really don’t know. Uh.

BEACH BEAR: Oh, come on.

LOONEY BIRD: Okay, well, come on, I mean, you know, be serious! 

FATZ: Well, uh. Okay. Just- Just- Just- Just, uh. Let me think here. Uh. Tell you the truth, I’m, uh, I’m exactly-lactly, presently and accounted for, not more or less than, uh… eleven years of faithful gorilla service to all ape kind.

LOONEY BIRD: Eleven?

FATZ: That means I’m eleven, not a day older.

LOONEY BIRD: You expect my show to have any credibility telling someone you’re eleven!?

(BEACH BEAR starts to interject.)

FATZ: I am eleven! That’s what I said! And, uh-

LOONEY BIRD: Beach Bear, what were you gonna say?

BEACH BEAR: I was gonna say, if we cut his leg in half, I think we could count the rings and really find out the whole answer to this.

(Everyone laughs.)

FATZ: No, no, I’m really-

BILLY BOB: That’s a zinger!

(More laughter.)

BEACH BEAR: Thanks.

FATZ: I’m eleven in gorilla years. 

LOONEY BIRD: Oh. Gorilla years. Explain that, please.

FATZ: Well, you’ve heard of dog years, haven’t you?

LOONEY BIRD: Boy, I’m a good commentator.

FATZ: Yeah, you are, Looney Bird. You’re a good-

LOONEY BIRD: You think I’m gonna get good ratings for this?

FATZ: Yeah!

LOONEY BIRD: Excuse me. Go ahead, go ahead, I’m sorry.

FATZ: I think you’re a [?]*, too. 

(Everyone laughs.)

BILLY BOB: Now, come on, let’s uh- uh. How old are you, Fatz? Go ahead, tell us.

FATZ: Well, I’m eleven in gorilla years. You’ve heard of dog years and everything.

BILLY BOB: Uh-huh.

FATZ: One people year’s supposed to equal seven dog years, right?

BILLY BOB: Uh-huh.

FATZ: Well, so you got dog years, you got gorilla years. You got mouse years, you got bear years, bird years. You got all kinds of years. You got groundhog years, you got green spotted snapping turtle years. And you got Tasmanian leaf-eating albino pygmy gopher years, you know.

LOONEY BIRD: Tasmanian what?

FATZ: You got walrus years, and you got antelope years-

BILLY BOB: Wait a minute, Fatz. Wait a minute. That’s enough. We all got the point, um-

(As FATZ goes on, DOOK, BEACH BEAR, and MITZI begin to laugh.)

FATZ: You got horny toad years, you got pregnant guppy years, and you know what else you got? You got Sam the Chowderhead years.

(BILLY BOB joins in the laughter.)

BILLY BOB: Sam the Chowderhead? What- What brought that up?

FATZ: Yeah, and you also- you got water buffalo, baby water buffalo years, uh-

BEACH BEAR: Hey, how do you-

FATZ: Huh?

BEACH BEAR: How do you know all this?

FATZ: I just know it. I know about baby buffalos. I know they’re all required to hibernate during the first month of every year for a couple of weeks unless, of course, they have a note from their mamas.

(BILLY BOB laughs.)

BILLY BOB: A note from their mamas?

FATZ: That’s exactly right.

BILLY BOB: Well, how do you know that?

FATZ: Well, it’s common sense.

BILLY BOB: Oh. Whoa.

FATZ: Didn’t you take biology in high school?

BILLY BOB: Yeah! I did. Was I supposed to learn that?

FATZ: Yeah. They’re supposed to teach you that. You guess you know but you don’t remember?

BILLY BOB: Maybe I kinda remember. I made a C.

FATZ: You don’t know about the baby water buffalo?

BILLY BOB: Well, uh, it’s- a little bit of it. Yeah, let me think about that for a minute. Um.

LOONEY BIRD: Uh. Okay. Well. Let’s move onto another letter.

BILLY BOB: No, Looney Bird, I think we were only allowed one letter here. I don’t know.

LOONEY BIRD: Yeah, okay. I’m sure Fatz wouldn’t mind if I read some letters. There were a few addressed to me. A few girls want to know about me. Or a few, uh, birds want to know about me. 

FATZ: Yeah, I’m sure they all do, Looney Bird, but can the letter stuff right now, we got to sing a song.

BILLY BOB: Hey, I just thought of something about water buffalos I learned!

FATZ: No, no, would you all- would you just finish up? Why don’t you talk about water buffalos outside, there, Billy Bob? Just take it out the back door, there. 

LOONEY BIRD: Yeah, okay, Billy Bob. Come on, yeah, you’re spoiling my show here, anyway. Okay, what are we gonna do now, Fatz?

FATZ: Well, I’d like to dedicate this next song to little Debbie Hawkins, wherever she may be.

LOONEY BIRD: Jacksonville, Florida. I said that at the beginning.

[SONG: EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC (ORIGINALLY BY THE POLICE)]

BEACH BEAR:

THOUGH I’VE TRIED BEFORE TO TELL HER

OF THE FEELINGS I HAVE FOR HER IN MY HEART

EVERY TIME THAT I COME NEAR HER

I JUST LOSE MY NERVE AS I’VE DONE FROM THE START

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC

EVERYTHING SHE DO JUST TURNS ME ON

EVEN THOUGH MY LIFE BEFORE WAS TRAGIC

NOW I KNOW MY LOVE FOR HER GOES ON

DO I HAVE TO TELL THE STORY

OF A THOUSAND RAINY DAYS SINCE WE FIRST MET

IT’S A BIG ENOUGH UMBRELLA

BUT IT’S ALWAYS ME THAT ENDS UP GETTING WET

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC

EVERYTHING SHE DO JUST TURNS ME ON

EVEN THOUGH MY LIFE BEFORE WAS TRAGIC

NOW I KNOW MY LOVE FOR HER GOES ON

I RESOLVED TO CALL HER UP

A THOUSAND TIMES A DAY

ASK HER IF SHE’LL MARRY ME

SOME OLD-FASHIONED WAY

BUT MY

ALL**:

SILENT FEARS HAVE GRIPPED ME

LONG BEFORE I REACH THE PHONE

AND BEFORE MY TONGUE HAS TRIPPED ME

MUST I ALWAYS BE ALONE

BEACH BEAR:

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC

EVERYTHING SHE DO JUST TURNS ME ON

EVEN THOUGH MY LIFE BEFORE WAS TRAGIC

NOW I KNOW MY LOVE FOR HER GOES ON

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC

EVERYTHING SHE DO JUST TURNS ME ON

EVEN THOUGH MY LIFE BEFORE WAS TRAGIC

NOW I KNOW MY LOVE FOR HER GOES ON

ON AND ON AND

EVERY LITTLE THING

EVERY LITTLE THING

EVERY LITTLE

EVERY LITTLE

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS

MAGIC, MAGIC, MAGIC

ALL:

E-OH, E-OH, E-OH, E-OH

E-OH, E-OH, E-OH, E-OH

E-OH, E-OH, E-OH, E-OH

E-OH, E-OH, E-OH, E-OH

BEACH BEAR:

EVERY LITTLE THING

EVERY LITTLE THING

EVERY LITTLE THING SHE DOES IS

ALL:

MAGIC, MAGIC, MAGIC

MAGIC, MAGIC, MAGIC

YO, YO

YO, YO

YO, YO, YO, YO, YO

(INSTRUMENTAL BREAK.)

BEACH BEAR:

BIG ENOUGH UMBRELLA

END.

----------

Footnotes:

*It sounds as if Fatz says something along the lines of “commonsseur”, which could possibly be a play on the words “commentator” and “connoisseur” or an entirely different word/phrase altogether. They move on from the joke very quickly, so there’s very little context to go off of. My guess is that it’s likely the former, but I’d rather play a guessing game in the footnotes than have it be wrong in the actual transcript. :)

**“ALL” section includes Fatz, Mitzi, and Dook backing up Beach Bear, who remains on lead vocals all through the song. Left and right stage curtains are closed through this number.

----------

Check out the rest of Magic Night!:

Magic Night Intro/Magic Medley

Fatz's Witch Story/That Old Black Magic

The Magic Touch (Outtake)

Letters to Looney Bird #1/Little Arrows

Abracadabra Medley Intro/Abracadabra Medley

Multiple Voice Syndrome/Puff the Magic Dragon

Ambience Skit/Magic (from Xanadu)

Michael Jackson Intro/Michael Jackson Tribute

[datascraping001]

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[ellendorit]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 💝 Anna Konya 80’s/90’s Gypsy Style Dress.

[goldytv]

[itsadamcole]

under the mistletoe

fem!reader x nick jackson

reader and Nick have had feelings for each other for years, and neither have admitted it. Until the two find themselves under the mistletoe ... “did you just kiss me?”

word count: 3k+

warnings: fluffy, nick being cute. a little bit of drinking

— day 5. let’s gooo —

masterlist || request an imagine here

***

You're on the phone with your best friend as you get dressed to go to his house for the annual Jackson Christmas party.

It's a party that Matt and Nick Jackson throw every year, and you've gone every year since they started throwing the party. Their family is invited. Both their families, their blood family and their wrestling family.

You've known Matt and Nick Jackson since June 2016, when the three of you were in Ring of Honor together. You signed with ROH and the first people you met were Matt, Nick, Kenny Omega, Adam Cole, Adam Page, and Cody Rhodes while they were backstage waiting for their segment to start. Kenny wasn't in Bullet Club yet but he was good friends with everyone in the group. Nick was the first person in the group to talk to you.

"Hey, I've never seen you around here," Nick said to you. "You new?"

You smiled and teased him saying, "Maybe. Who's asking? I'm not talking to someone important, am I?"

"You're only talking to a member of the greatest faction in ROH history," Nick said, teasing you back. "Nick Jackson, former ROH World Tag Team Champion." He held out his hand and you shook it.

Smiling, you said, "Y/N L/N, former NWA World Women's Champion."

And that was the beginning of a friendship that's lasted almost five years. You've become close to Nick, Matt, Kenny, Cole, Page, and Cody. You were thinking about forming a new faction with them before Cole left ROH in 2017 to go to NXT. Then the Young Bucks, Kenny, Adam Page, and Cody all signed to AEW. You joined them in AEW, where you're the number one contender for Hikaru Shida's AEW Women's World Championship.

Nick, who's on the phone with you now, asks, "What color are you wearing tonight? It's for science class."

Laughing, you say, "You haven't had a science class in years. Silver, by the way." You're tying the halter top of your dress behind your neck.

The dress you're wearing is silver, obviously. From the waist up is tight, hugging your muscular figure. There's a sparkly design on the top and the neck dips down, revealing the smallest amount of cleavage. The ties to tie the halter top are made of sheer silver fabric. The skirt flares out and ends right above your knees. The whole dress is satin.

"Gotcha," Nick says. "So I'll wear a black suit with a silver tie."

Since you've been invited to the annual Jackson Christmas party, you and Nick have always found some way to match each other while matching that year's theme. This year is formal attire, meaning the women wear dresses and the men wear suits or at least a tie. Last year was ugly sweaters, so you and Nick wore matching ugly Christmas sweaters.

You do your makeup at your desk. Your phone sits on speaker as you do a silver smokey eye look with a dark red lip.

A door opens on the other line and Matt, Nick's older brother, says, "Let me guess. Y/N is wearing something silver."

Nick laughs and says, "Maybe. She's on the phone."

Matt says, "Hi, Y/N. You on your way yet?"

"I'm finishing up my makeup then I am leaving," you giggle. "You two won't have to go much longer without seeing me."

Nick says, "Hurry up, Y/N.

"Makeup is art, Mr. Jackson. It takes more than a few minutes to do," you say, smiling. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Your best friend laughs and says, "Well, you're only like five minutes away so I expect to see you in about ten."

Finally finishing your makeup, you say, "Make that seven. I'm leaving in two minutes. See you soon."

"Bye, Y/N," Nick says, hanging up the phone.

Just the thought of seeing Nick in a suit makes the butterflies flutter in your stomach. Nick has always looked handsome in a suit and it's honestly making you very excited that you get to see him in a suit tonight, especially in a suit with a tie that matches your dress.

After putting on a pair of three-inch heels, you take your phone and clutch before leaving your penthouse apartment just outside of Jacksonville. The Young Bucks don't live that far away. They don't live together because they have their own families but they live close together too. Within a block or two of each other. You live about three miles away. It's a five-minute drive so you get in your 2-year-old Toyota Corolla and drive to Nick's house.

The drive is extremely short as you try and calm your nerves. You're excited to see Nick but you're nervous about what he'll think of the dress.

You've had feelings for Nick for years. You've never told him. You know he doesn't feel the same way about you. He's had girlfriends, quite a few over the past four years, so if he had any feelings for you then he'd have told you by now.

After you get out of the car, after parking it in the driveway of Nick's house, you walk up to his front door. You knock and wait for someone to open the door.

Matt answers the door. He wears a crazy Christmas suit. You laugh. "Look at you," you say. "Does Dana mind the crazy outfit?"

"She offered to take care of the kids this year at our place," he says. "So she has no idea until someone posts a picture on Instagram or any other social media."

Laughing again, you walk inside.

Matt closes the door behind you and yells, "Nick! Your girlfriend is here!"

Nick calls, "Mel's here?"

You raise your eyebrows at Nick's brother and ask, "Who's Mel?"

"This girl that Nick's talking to," Matt says. "Don't tell Dana but she's kinda hot."

You feel your heart sink into your stomach and all you can say is, "Oh."

Nick walks into the living room and Matt's eyes widen. You blink at Matt as Nick says, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, Y/N. Cole and his boys are on their way. Kenny, Page, and Cody are already drinking all my alcohol in the kitchen. Everyone else will be here shortly."

You look over at Nick and smile. He looks really hot in that suit. He smiles at you. "You look good in the silver tie," you say, trying not to let what Matt said affect you. "Matches me."

Nick laughs and says, "That is kind of the point. We always match."

He hugs you and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Matt looks between the two of you before he says, "I'm gonna make sure that Kenny, Page, and Cody are doing okay." He leaves.

You watch Matt walk away and Nick asks, "What's up with him? He always stays and talks.

"Don't know," you say. "Anyway, I was told that you were talking to someone. Who is she? Tell me!"

Nick laughs and says, "Her name is Mel. She's nice, and hot. I just don't know how I feel about her."

"I should meet her," you say. "The best friend always meets the new girlfriend first."

Nick laughs again and says, "Yeah, that's true."

Matt calls from the kitchen, "Y/N! Come here!"

"I'll be right back," you say to Nick before walking off to the kitchen.

In the kitchen are Matt, Kenny, Adam Page, Cody, and Brandi Rhodes. You approach the group and ask, "Yes?"

The older Jackson says, "So, tell me something, Y/N. How long have you had some kind of feelings for my brother?"

You blink at Matt and say, "I don't."

"That's such bull," Kenny says. "I see it. The rest of us see it."

Matt says, "When I told you about Mel, all you said was 'oh' and your face just completely fell, Y/N."

You cross your arms over your chest and say, "That doesn't mean that I have feelings for him, Matt."

Cody asks, "You haven't told him, have you?"

You shake your head, defeated. Everyone already knows so you say, "Any time I try or I get the chance to, he tells me he's talking to someone new. He has no idea."

Matt says, "Tonight's the night. I know it is."

You start to walk away, wanting to be done with this conversation, and say, "Yeah, right."

You approach Nick in the living room talking to Adam Cole and his Undisputed Era boys. Nick looks over at you and smiles. "Hey," he says. "What did Matt want?"

"He wanted my opinion on the gift he got you for tonight," you lie.

Cole says, "I hope you gave a good opinion on what Matt got his brother." The group kind of laughs.

You smile and say, "I definitely did." There's a knock on the door. "I'll go get that. You guys keep this conversation going."

Nick goes back to talking to the boys and you go answer the door.

When you answer the door, you're greeted by a beautiful girl with long brown hair and hazel eyes. She's wearing a red satin strapless dress. It's short. The skirt ends about halfway down her thighs.

"Hi," she says cheerfully. "I'm Mel. Is Nick Jackson here?"

You give her a kind smile and say, "Yeah. He's in the living room. Silver tie."

She thanks you and walks inside. You shut the door and watch as she embraces Nick, hugging him and kissing him.

After watching that, you walk into the kitchen, rejoining Matt, Kenny, Page, Cody, and Brandi. "I need a drink," you announce. "Like pronto."

Page says, "I can help with that."

More and more people make their way into the house. The lights all come on and Christmas music is being played from a stereo in the living room.

Wrestlers from AEW, WWE, ROH, and other promotions all attend the party. Members of Nick and Matt's family attend as well.

It's about nine, and the party has been going for about two hours now. You're standing in the doorway of the kitchen from the dining room. People are scattered all throughout the house but these two rooms are the least crowded.

You watch Nick and his new girlfriend as they laugh and talk in the kitchen. You sip your drink and can't help but be a little jealous.

While you've been distancing yourself from Nick, he's also made no efforts to talk to you.

Matt walks up and stands beside you as you take a sip of your class of whiskey. "I hope you realize that you're standing under the mistletoe," he says. You glance up and take another sip.

"Well, look at that," you say. "I'm under the mistletoe with no one to kiss."

Both of you laugh and Matt says, "Well, there's one person we both know you'd rather be standing under the mistletoe with. I think he name starts with N and ends with a K."

You sigh at the mention of Nick and say, "He hasn't even tried to talk to me. Like, I might be keeping my distance a bit but he hasn't even checked in on me like he usually does. And we're matching." You pout.

An idea pops into Matt's mind and he says, "I'll be right back." He walks into the kitchen. You watch as he says something to Nick and Mel then leads Mel away. Nick approaches you.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe opposite you. "You doing okay? I know we haven't been talking as much as we normally do at these thing."

You force a smile and say, "I'm doing fine. I've just been kind of hanging around with Brandi, Britt, and Marina."

Nick smiles and says, "Well, Mel's been wanting for formally meet you. I've been telling her stories about our promos and the they wanted us to be in rival factions in ROH. Plus, I've been kind of introducing her to a lot of people here since she doesn't really know a lot of people. I hope you understand that since you know a lot of people."

That's true and a very valid excuse. You can't complain about that. That thought never even crossed your mind. Mel isn't a wrestler like the other girls that Nick has dated. She may know names but has never met anyone here.

"Yeah," you say. "Of course I understand. I know a lot of people and I'm friends with a lot of people here."

Your best friend says, "I knew you'd understand. Now, how about we go meet Mel. How does that sound?"

You nod, glancing above you at the mistletoe.

Nick starts to walk away. The alcohol you've been drinking gives you enough courage to say, "Hey, Nick? Wait a second."

He turns and looks back at you. You grab his hand and pull him back under the mistletoe. "What's up?" he asks.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you get on your toes and kiss Nick. Your lips brush against his, unsure of the kiss. You gain some courage and kiss him harder.

The kiss lasts for about two seconds before Nick pulls back. Your eyes search his for any emotion as he asks, "Did you just kiss me?"

"Mistletoe," is all you say. "Look up."

Your best friend looks up and spots the mistletoe. He smiles and says, "Oh."

Anxiety starts to rise within you as you meet Nick's eyes. He leans down and his lips meet yours. You're confused but you kiss him back.

Nick's hands move so they're on your cheeks, cupping your face. You grab a fistful of Nick's suit jacket and he presses you against the doorframe.

Your lips move slowly against Nick's, enjoying the moment. Your heart races in your chest as you realize that this is actually happening. This is a real thing now. Everything you've felt for Nick coming out into the open.

There's a whistle and you look into the kitchen, seeing Kenny, Adam Page, Cody, Brandi, and Britt looking at you and Nick.

"I, um," you stammer. "I need to go get some fresh air." You leave the house from the back door. You step out onto the back deck, which is lit up by a few string of lights above the deck.

You lean against the railing and look out over the backyard. There's a pool and a wrestling ring. A forrest sits beyond the backyard.

You kissed Nick and he kissed you. He kissed back. He's talking to someone and he kissed you while Mel was in the other room.

The door opens behind you and you look back to see Nick. You sigh and say, "I overstepped my boundaries. I know that. I'm sorry."

It's quiet until Nick says, "She left. Mel, I mean. I told her that it was nice to know her and that she's a nice girl, but I also told her that I think I have feelings for someone else."

You raise your eyebrows and you turn around. Nick's about five feet away from you. "So you gave her the speech," you say, teasing Nick.

He laughs and says, "I gave her the speech, yeah." You smile. "Now, here I am. Finally telling you how I feel about you. I like you, Y/N. I have for years. All those girls, I was with them to maybe distract myself from you because you're too damn good for me and I know you don't have feelings for me."

You smile and get flustered as you say, "I never said that I don't have feelings for you, Nick. Actually, it's the opposite. I've liked you since pretty much the day we met. I was almost jealous of all those girls you were talking to or dated. Scratch that, I was jealous of all those girls you talked to or dated because I wish I was them."

A wide smile forms on Nick's lips and he says, "All this time, I could have asked you out and been with you but instead I dated around."

You giggle, "You should have talked to me."

Nick walks up to you and says, "I really should have."

His hands cup your face and he pulls you into a passionate kiss. You smile into the kiss and put your hands on Nick's chest. He smiles against your lips as he slowly pulls back from the kiss.

Your eyes meet Nick's and he asks, "What does this mean for us? We'll never be the same after tonight."

"I want you," you say, staring up at Nick. "Do you want me?"

Nick smiles and nods. "Yeah, I do," he says. "I really want you."

Smiling, you say, "Then I'm yours. All yours. I've always been yours, Nick."

He leans down and kisses you again. His arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you up, spinning you around with your lips on his. You giggle into the kiss.

"Holy shit," you hear from the sliding back door. "It looks like it finally happened."

Nick pulls back and looks behind you. You turn around, standing beside Nick. His left arm is around your shoulder.

Matt, Kenny, Adam Page, Cody, Brandi, Adam Cole, and Britt all stand at the door. Matt has a huge smile on his face. "It did finally happen, didn't it?" the older Jackson asks.

You look up at Nick and he nods. "It finally happened," he says, looking down at you.

"Thank God," Kenny says. "It's about time. We all knew this would happen eventually and it finally freaking happened."

Nick's cheeks get red and you smile. "Guys, stop," you giggle. "Nick's getting all flustered."

Matt smiles and says, "Aw. Nicky's blushing."

You look up at Nick and you say, "It's kind of cute."

His cheeks get even more red and he tries to hide. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, and he hides his face in yours. The group laughs and you walk inside, rejoining the party.

[horrorslashergirl]

Can we get a s/o who is a single mother trying to raise their kid with Chromeskull or Jessie, or both? They happen to be browsing at the park when a kid walk right up to them before the mother shows up to thank the two for finding their child

Soft and Humurous Chromeskull on the way! Jesse deserves a wife and a happy ending.

Chromeskull x Single!Mother!Reader- ‘Jackpot’

It never fazed Jesse how he got into this predicament in life, call it karma, but it’s not easy to hear that your wife shot herself, killing along with herself the unborn child. When he heard he was devasted. All these years everything went smoothly; his wife thinking he was all on business trips, and at some point, he will come home to her. Not really how he predicted his future to be.

Jesse wasn’t one man to view him as a father, the thought was scary even to the 6′7 killer, but that was the gift of life: Spending the rest of your life with your loved one who will at some point give you a child.

He was taking a walk into the park in Jacksonville, he needed to get out more because staying all days inside his homemade Jesse a little more anxious than normal, plus he needed to continue with his ‘job’ and mourning over the death of his wife wouldn’t help. Its been two years and he should go on with life, but dating it’s tough when you have a disfigured face that women run away from.

He learned to walk in the outside world with his new face but been given all these looks of fear, disgust, and pity were making him want to slaughter the whole park.

His brown eye looked at the happy families, the dads taking their small children into their arms, spinning them around, laughing while their wifes giggled or took photos. He grimaced at the image, it was probably envied because God thought he didn’t deserve such a blessing. Not even his money could bring him this gift.

He remembers all the words his ex-potential lovers after his wife died.

‘Ughhh...Such an ugly piece of shit.’

‘How can I even kiss you? You make me puke.’

‘The child probably would look just like you.’

‘That face is turning me off.’

So different from what he used to be told when his face was all perfect.

‘So handsome. Would you like to come home with me?’

‘Hey, stud! Wanna have a drink?’

‘Never seen you before, gorgeous.’

Well, it looks like it’s true what they say; a pretty face can make wonders. Jesse was pulled out of his thoughts when a purple glitter covered ball landed in front of him at his feet. His gaze moved up and saw a little girl approach him. She had blonde hair in curly pigtails, rosy cheeks, wearing a white shirt with a unicorn, a pink tutu with colorful leggings, and purple sneakers with wings. She stopped in front of him, taking her ball.

“Wooow...Are you a giant?” she asked, her eyes widen as he took in his tall form. He couldn’t help but chuckle silently at her words. She didn’t look to be afraid or disgusted by his face, more like mesmerized.

That was a reason for why he didn’t go after kids; they were the perfect epitome of innocence, so honest and always speak their minds.

“Maddison! Come back here.” he heard a feminine voice speak from afar, his eyes looking from the small girl to a young woman running to them.

“I told you not to run away from me.” you said, crouching down to your daughter, then looking up at the tall man.

“Mommy! Is he a giant?” your daughter asked with curiosity, making you blush in embarrassment.

“Maddy! That’s not polite! I’m so sorry for her. She is always speaking what she thinks.” you apologized, standing up and looking at the mysterious man, your eyes taking in his scarred face, a little intimidating.

‘No harm is done. She’s just a child.’ Jesse signed out of instinct, sometimes he forgot people don’t know ASL.

Your eyes widened, seeing that he was mute.

“Still, I should apologize for her.” you said, signing at the same time, making him look shocked.

‘You know ASL?’

“Yes, my brother is deaf-mute and I had to learn.” you explained.

‘I’m Jesse.’ he signed.

“[Name].” you said, shaking hands with him. Your daughter looked curiously at you two.

“Mommy! Can we have ice cream?” she asked, jumping on her little feet, making you smile and nod, then she looked at Jesse.

“Do you want some? Mommy always said that I should apologize and ice cream is the best form to say sorry.” she spoke, looking up at Jesse with puppy eyes, making him a little nervous, but couldn’t say no to such a cute face.

She skipped to the ice cream booth of the park with you and Jesse following. He didn’t saw you with any man and wondered where her father and your husband is.

‘I hope her father won’t get any ideas.’ Jesse signed as you walked, making your eyes widen and sadden, looking down.

“Her father is dead.” you said, making his eye widen, knowing he opened a sensitive subject.

‘Sorry.’

“No, no. It’s fine. He died in a car accident three years ago. She’s a smart girl and understands.” you said.

Jesse understood you in a way, losing someone of importance to you, but your cases were a bit different; his wife killed herself because of him.

After you bought the ice cream you sat with Jesse on a bench eating the delicious dessert as your daughter playing with the kids not too far away from you two.

‘I’m only curious. Why?’ Jesse signed, looking at you. You raised an eyebrow, not quite catching on what he meant.

‘I mean. Why are you so nice? I’m not exactly the most prince charming here.’ he signed, motioning at his face, making your eyes widen.

“You mean the fact that something bad happened to you and you are a lucky soul that you survived?” you said, making the bald man even more curious.

“My father worked as a mechanic and he was also a lucky one. A car battery exploded and burned half of his face, neck, and chest.” you said, a sad sigh leaving your lips.

“We are all the same on the inside and some differences shouldn’t make us treat the ones bad.” you said, taking a lick of your ice cream.

Now that was a pleasant thing to hear. It’s not every day a woman is so accepting of the outside looks and a gorgeous one at that. You were gorgeous in Jesse’s eyes, the kind of woman he would take out to dinner, to a movie, to the point of sharing his bed with, and also life.

You two were looking at each other, not speaking at all or signing, but you felt his face get closer to yours, blush on your cheeks. Just a little bit more, until your daughter came running to you.

“Mommy! I’m hungry! Can we go and eat?” she asked with a pout, making you nod, ready to stand up, but...

“Oh oh! Can Jesse come to dinner too!” she asked, her hands wrapped around Jesse’s leg like a kid who found the best toy in the store and wanted it.

“W-Well, if he wants too. I cannot force him.” you said with a nervous smile, looking at Jesse.

‘I would love too.’ he signed, nodding at the smaller version of you. She jumped up and down in victory.

“Oh, mommy! Is he gonna be my new daddy?” she asked with curiosity, your eyes widening at her response and making you choke a little on your ice cream, a deep red blush on your face.

Jesse’s shoulders moved up and down in silent laughter, his hand coming on top of her head, ruffling her hair. He pulled out his phone writing a message for her.

‘That depends on your mother.’

She looked at you with begging eyes.

“Come on, mommy! Please, please. Can we keep him?”

Alright, maybe not exactly how you wanted the first date with a potential new husband to be, but in Jesse’s eye this was priceless.

‘Jackpot.’ he thought with an internal smirk.

[sleep-is-for-the-sane]

Here

Hey guys, so I am really sorry for the sad stories so far but Coronacation is doing a toll on my mental health so… If ya want something different, request it!

Warning: SELF HARM

Word count: 2480 words (The longest thing i’ve ever fricken written in my life!)

You looked down at your hand, seeing it covered in red. So were your forearms, shoulders, collarbone, and thighs. You placed the blood tinted blade down on your bathroom counter and turned your attention to your mirror. Your hair was matted and greasy, your eyes were a dull shade of (eye color), your smile that was always hiding your feelings gone. You had reduced yourself to who you truly were. A person who had no healthy way of coping with the anxiety and depression they had. You continued to stare at your reflection for a few more minutes until you heard your phone ring. It was the BAU alerting you that you had a new case. 

You sighed and jumped into the shower for the first time in a week and washed clean of dried blood. You wore a pair of black jeans, a tank top, a big hoodie, and a pair of converse. You threw your hair up into a messy bun, grabbed your go-bag, and went on your way to meet the rest of the team.

You got into the elevator from the parking garage at the same time as Hotch, your boss and best friend, which was the last thing you wanted right now. “I thought you were sick. Are you feeling better?” He asked

“Oh, yeah. I feel fine now, thanks for asking.” You laughed as you messed with the hood of your hoodie, making sure that your cuts were covered.

Hotch noticed your odd behavior but made no comment on it. You rushed out of the elevator and directly to the conference room in an attempt to stay out of view as long as possible. Everyone gathered in the room and the meeting started. You didn’t pay attention, you could barely look at your team without wanting to run out of the room and back to your prison of comfort. You felt so inferior to your team. They were all so professional and quick on their feet. They were all so confident and you saw yourself as the opposite. You saw yourself as a burden to the team, that they’d be better off without you.

“Hey Y/N, let’s go. Hotch said Wheels up in 20, Babygirl.” Morgan mumbled as you felt him rub your shoulder. You winced and pulled away from his touch. You knew that had definitely confused him since you normally returned his physical affections with some of your own. You both walked out of the room to get ready for the trip out to Jacksonville, Florida.

~Time Skippies~

You had finally caught the Unsub. Although it was surprisingly early in the morning when you did so you had the rest of the day in Florida, in summer, to hang out. And of course, JJ, Prentiss, and Morgan got everyone to decide on going to the beach. You knew that you were screwed whether you went to the beach or stayed at the hotel.

(You chose to go to the beach)

You sighed as you pulled on your swimsuit and thought of ways that you could hide the cuts on your shoulders and thighs but to no avail. You looked through our go bag one more time and decided to pull on a pair of shorts that were barely long enough to cover your cuts and scars and pulled a lightweight hoodie over your torso. “Come on, Y/N! Let’s go!” Yelled an excited Garcia as the bathroom door was pushed open. 

You smiled, grabbed your (bag of choice), and headed out with the ret of the team to the beach. When you finally found a spot to set up everyone laid their towels down and split up to do their own things. You decided to stay near everyone’s things and watch the ocean. After a few minutes you started looking through your bag for your phone and earbuds so you could listen to music but to no avail. You don’t know why exactly but this small little inconvenience set you off. 

You started hyperventilating and you felt tears sting your eyes. On top of that you were growing increasingly hot by the minute. “Miss, are you okay?” Asked a small voice. You looked up to see a little girl staring at you. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled.

“Oh, I’m just a little sad. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well i know that going in the water makes me happy. Maybe it will make you happy too!” She bounced excitedly when you agreed to go into the water and play with her. But you failed to see Hotch coming back to your area with food in hand before taking off the hoodie and shorts you were using as a cover up.

You had barely gotten into the cool water and the little girl was already splashing you with water. You continued your water fight for about 15 minutes before her parents called her out of the water. You turned around to head back to your things but noticed that your boss was sitting on his towel next to yours waiting for you. Your anxiety came back and told you to turn around and stay in the water but you had already made eye contact with Hotch who was motioning for you to come back to the team’s spot.

You tried your best to get your shorts and hoodie on without Hotch seeing your cuts and scars and you thought it worked but you realized you were sorely mistaken when you sat down. “Take your hoodie off. You can’t hide them forever, Y/N” Hotch sighed. You looked to him with wide eyes.

“Hotch, I-I don’t know what you mean?”

“You don’t have to be afraid alright? Just let me see, please.”

Your eyes watered as you weakly pulled the hoodie over your head and off of your arms.Hotch looked at your defeated form as you slumped down and turned away from his gaze. You sat in tears and he just stared at you. No words spoken, no way of knowing what he was thinking. It was terrifying and you just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for a few weeks or for as long as it takes to get rid of the ever present tiredness you’ve felt for so long. “Hey, look at me. I’m not mad or disappointed. I just wanna help you.” Hotch soothed as he gently rubbed up and down your arm. You anxiously met his gaze with your own to find the most caring eyes that you have seen in months. He opened his arms wide and you gladly accepted his embrace. 

You felt safe in his arms but you had never told him that. You didn’t want to mess up the relationship that the both of you had already. So you enjoyed the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you for as long as you could. 

Sadly that came to an end when the team came back without warning. You were mortified to say the least, having your scars on display for your misfit family’s viewing pleasure. Penelope was the first to say something. “Oh, Sugar! Those look so painful. Let me help you.” She gasped as she entered Mom mode. She grabbed a bottle of lotion from her bag and started applying it to your cuts. Spencer and JJ started asking if you were seeing a therapist or if there was any way that they could help you, which you brushed away with an “I’m fine” Even though you know that excuse wouldn’t work anymore. Morgan looked at you with sad eyes but said nothing and Prentiss was hugging your side. Hotch was on your other side, just holding your hand.

On the jet, everyone fell asleep except for you. You felt so guilty for worrying the team that you were trying to hide in your hoodie and just calm yourself from today’s events. Hotch walked into the cabin and slid into the booth beside you. “Hey, come here. Let me hug you.” He mumbled as he pulled your body into his side. You ended up with Hotch sitting in the window seat and you on his lap, legs extended to the neighboring seat. “You know I love you, right? You can always come to me. I wish you felt safe confiding in me. I wish I could cuddle all the bad thoughts out of you but I can’t. At least not yet. What I’m meaning to say is that I have feelings for you.” 

You moved your head to look at his face. You smiled and nuzzled your face back into the crook of his neck. “I have feelings for you too, Aaron.” You fell asleep as he kissed the top of your head, safe in his arms.

(You stayed at the Hotel)

“Please come with us?” Whined Garcia as she sat at the foot of your hotel bed. You giggled and set your book down. 

“Sorry Technology Goddess, but I would rather stay in an air conditioned room with a good book than get a sunburn and be sweaty on the jet home. Thanks for the offer though.” The group of girls sighed but honored your wish and went to the beach without you. After a few chapters of reading even the air cooler was struggling to keep you cool so you decided to switch into a loose tank top and a pair of shorts.

You eventually got bored of reading so you put your headphones in and listened to (Podcast/Music/other media) with your eyes closed. Unfortunately you thought that everyone left the hotel with the girls but in reality Hotch stayed back at the hotel as well. Therefore you left yourself unguarded from unwanted eyes. You jumped when you heard the door open.

“Hey, Y/N. I was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat with the team?” Hotch said as he turned around to close the door. You quickly hid yourself with the bed comforter and tried to calm your heart beat. Hotch looked a little confused but walked over to you. “I know you’re awake, come on. Don’t make me drag you off the bed.” He laughed as you pulled the comforter tighter around yourself. 

“Go away Hotch, I’m not hungry.”

In one sharp tug, you felt the cold air hit your skin as Hotch stood with your makeshift shield in hand. You felt the burn of his gaze on your body as you tugged at your clothes, trying to cover your cuts and scars as much as possible. You didn’t even realize the bed dip next to you until you felt Hotch’s arm wrap around you. You desperately pulled at your clothes as Hotch pulled you back to lean against him. He himself had propped himself up on the pillows and headboard. “Hey, hey, stop. It’s alright. You're with me. You’re safe.” Hotch soothed as you curled into his side.

You pushed away from him but he held you tighter. You fought for a few minutes but eventually gave up. You looked down in a last ditch effort to not talk about the elephant in the room. You felt tears run down your face as hotch pulled you closer to him, doing his best to comfort you. It felt nice to just sit with him and cuddle in silence. But the silence came to an end when hotch shifted in his position. He moved you in between his legs with your back resting on his chest. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell me? We could have helped you.” Hotch asked, voice wavering. 

You felt a tear drop on your shoulder as he pulled the blanket back around the both of you. “I was ashamed, Hotch. I’m responsible for so many lives but I can’t seem to get mine under control. I feel like everything is more than I can handle. That’s why I've been gone for a week. I was sitting alone in my apartment just feeling sorry for myself. Everyone on this team is amazing and has a role to play in our family of misfits but I don’t know where I fit, Hotch.” Your walls began to crack and cave under your boss’s gaze. Hotch’s arms grew tighter around you and you turned so you were hugging him.

He kissed the top of your head. “You are the member who keeps this family going when there are no strands of hope to grasp. You become a mother when you need to, a best friend, a shoulder to cry on, someone to call at 3 AM when the job gets too much. Y/N, You are the heart of this team when we want to stop beating.” Hotch murmurs into your hair. Eventually you both end up cuddling in the blanket cocoon that you made. 

About a half hour later, both of you were sleeping peacefully but a sharp knock on the door broke you out of your trance. You whined and pushed yourself into Hotch. The door opened to reveal the whole team with take-out bags filled with food. “So that’s why you didn’t answer your phones.” Rossi stated as everyone else filed into the room. Hotch sat up and looked at you. 

“Do you want me to grab your hoodie?” He whispered. You turned to face the group nodding your head. But before you could get your hoodie on Garcia saw a few scars and cuts from an uncovered shoulder. 

She gasped and walked over to you. “Come here, Gorgeous.” You went to protest but that was cut short when you were yanked off of the bed to reveal the rest of your cuts. The team looked over your shaking form with concerned eyes. Garcia sat you on the desk chair in the room and started rubbing lotion on your cuts, making them feel better instantly. Spencer started asking you if you were seeking help and if you needed help finding a professional. JJ and Emily went through your bag grabbing you a new hoodie and not so secretly confiscating anything that could be used as a self-harm tool. Derek was knelt in front of you, wrapping your cuts with bandages and muttering about how they should have noticed. Rossi was sorting out food and pouring people drinks so that you weren’t overcrowded. 

Once everything calmed down, everyone was hanging out in your hotel room watching daytime television shows and eating. You were in between Hotch and Derek on one of the beds. “Hey, babygirl. You know you can talk to us right? We are your family.” Derek commented as he kissed the side of your head. Hotch quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side out of jealousy. You smiled to yourself. “I do now.”

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 9)

A/N: it’s reader backstory time! This part also includes season 6 spoilers :) xx

word count: 4.0k 

tw: mentions of violence, abuse, cursing, other criminal minds stuff!

masterlist:

The beginning of letter #8 was scribbled out, like you’d written but decided the words weren’t quite right. Spencer tried to look through the black ink lines to see what you wrote, but most of it was smudged from tears. 

“This was the night everything changed, Spencer. This was the beginning of the end, but at the time it just felt like the beginning. It was a little over a year ago, sorry for skipping some of the middle. I could’ve written a 5,000 page novel about every little moment I had with you. If I had the time, I would. I’d write about every date night, every bouquet of roses, every case you held my hand through. I thought about writing about a lot more of the ‘happy’ parts, but they would’ve just been fun, little, anecdotes and made my heart hurt more. I decided on only highlighting the important parts, not that the happy parts were unimportant. I think they may be the most important, they’re the only things that kept me going at the end. Those parts gave me hope that maybe one day we’d get back to those people. But we didn’t and those people are long gone. Now all the bad memories outweigh the good ones. I need you to see the ugly parts. I always showed you those, and you still told me they were beautiful in some way.  

“Everything is a masterpiece if you look at it in the right way” 

So here’s the ugly Spence, any clue how to make this beautiful? How do I make this a ‘masterpiece’? Because I don’t know. 

Before I start, I want you to put on some regular clothes and pack up the box and put it in your car. Remember how in the first letter I said you’d need to go somewhere? This is that letter. So get in your crappy car that brought us together and drive to the place where it all started to fall apart: Meridian Hill Park.”

Spencer stopped reading and did as you asked. He took the sweatshirt off and hung it in his closet in a place he’d see it everyday. He didn’t really own any ‘regular clothes’ so he ended up in slacks and a dress shirt, his version of regular. He grabbed the box and the last of the coffee in a to-go mug and got in the car. He slipped the disc from letter 2 in and listened to Stacy’s Mom on a low volume. Between that and the snow, he felt like you were right there with him. 

When he got to the park, he sat in his car for a moment and reopened the letter. 

“There? Good. The bench we sat at is next to the blue bird bath and under that huge oak tree. Go sit at it.”

Spencer got out of the car, now wearing a heavy wool coat and scarf, and made his way to that spot. After most of your dates you’d go for a stroll around that park and always end up at that exact bench. You’d talk for hours, or sometimes you’d people watch. Either way, that bench became another one of your places. He set the box down on his left, the spot where you usually sat, and kept reading.

“That particular night was in December, during that weird week in between Christmas and New Years when time doesn’t feel real and the world is almost at a stand still. (My favorite week of the year) I had begged you to go to the movies with me. I dragged you to see Frozen. 

“Frozen?” You said, crinkling your nose, “Out of all the movies?”

I laughed and told you that I needed to see it because Mia had and already loved it. I think I said something like, “If I’m going to be her cool Aunt we have to see it.”

And you agreed, because you’d do anything for me. You always would. So two thirty-somethings went to see a six o’clock showing of Frozen on a Tuesday. We looked ridiculous; your messenger bag was overflowing with snacks and we were the only people there without a child. 

I loved it though, and you did too. When the movie was over we sat in the lobby at a table and I finished my slurpee as you told me about the real story of Frozen. 

“It’s loosely based on ‘The Snow Queen’ by Hans Christian Andersen from 1845. They both have a snow Queen, reindeer, trolls, frozen hearts, and snow creatures, but that’s where the similarities end. In the original story there is a horrible magic mirror and,” You finally paused to breathe, “ROBBERS!”

I laughed, “Aren’t all fairytales actually awful? We’ve just disney-ified them for kids?”

You nodded, “Most fairy tales in their original form were gruesome to the extreme. In Cinderella, the step-sisters had their feet mutilated to fit into the shoe.”

I yawned, “That’s why I always stuck to Pixar.”

We laughed and threw away our million candy wrappers. As we were leaving I saw a photo booth, one of those old one’s like I went in with all my high school boyfriends. I pulled you over to it and you grimaced, “It’s a small space CRAWLING with germs Y/N!” you whined to me, “Do you know how many people have been in there?” 

I rolled my eyes, “It’ll take thirty seconds and I will sanitize after!”

I tugged your arm in and we both barely fit in the booth. You pulled me onto your lap and four poses later we had two photo strips covered in pictures of you kissing my cheek and us smiling. That’s your momento for this letter.”

Spencer reached in and grabbed the photo strip delicately between his fingers. It was one of those tacky ones that looked like a roll of film and all the pictures were in black and white. The first one was the two of you smiling as wide as you could, the second you stuck your tongue out and Spencer scrunched up his nose, for the third he kissed your cheek, and the last one you turned your head to meet him. His heart softened for a moment, remembering how soft and sweet your kisses were. They were usually delicate, like you were kissing the finest of china. Or they were intense, like you were drowning and he was coming up for air. He felt warm, despite the snow falling all around him. 

“This is my copy. We printed two. I don’t know where yours is, I just hope it isn’t in the trash. I know it’s another photograph; you just got one of those from JJ’s wedding.  But I love photographs. I have a million of you and I. I always used to shove my phone in your face and you’d block it with your hands. I haven’t been able to bring myself to delete them yet. I just love pictures. They capture moments, the good and the bad. Sometimes the only thing that can get the feelings across is a photo, so here’s four. 

I remember sticking them in my purse as we walked out of the theater hand in hand and found ourselves in this park. I love it when the cherry blossom’s bloom, but they weren’t blooming. We found our way to this exact bench that you’re sitting on right now. I think it has the best view of the fountain. You put your arm around me and I snuggled into you. You were trying to talk about work; something about Rossi and Gideon? I didn’t know. I was so tired, I couldn’t even focus. I remember just staring at the dry fountain; they turn it off when the weather gets too cold. 

“Don’t you agree?” You said, but I didn’t register it, “Y/N?”

I looked up at you and blinked a few times. I sat up and moved myself off of you, “What? Sorry about that I—“ my own yawn interrupted me, “I’m just really tired.”

You looked at me so concerned. Your pretty, honey brown eyes always could see right through me. 

“Tired? But we went to sleep at ten last night, you should’ve had at least seven hours.”

I just shrugged and you raised your eyebrows at me, waiting for me to spill. 

“I couldn’t fall asleep the last few nights.”

I avoided your prying gaze that felt red hot on my skin even in the freezing air and played with the locket around my neck, as I usually do when I’m nervous. 

“Y/N,” You said and grabbed my two hands to make me look at you. I looked you straight in the eyes. 

“Talk to me.”

I sighed, “No.”

“No?” You looked offended, I don’t blame you. 

“No,” I said plainly. It looked like I was picking a fight, but I wasn’t. I just wasn’t ready to tell you. It’s so weird, we had spent over two years together by then, and I still couldn’t tell you. I don’t know why. It wasn’t you. You make me feel comfortable and safe. I think talking about it made it more real for me, you know? And I just didn’t want it to be real. 

“Is it the nightmares? Are they back again?” 

I just nodded. Of course you knew, you always knew.

“Y/N, we’ve been through this. You have to talk about them.”

I groaned and you dropped my hands to run yours through your hair. Frustrated is how you felt in that moment, and I don’t blame you. I was mad at myself too. 

“I know! But can’t I just not want to talk about it?”

You stood up and paced in front of me, “You have to talk to someone! Even if it isn’t me.”

“That’s the thing! I don’t trust anyone except you with it!”

You sounded defeated, “Then why don’t you tell me? You haven’t slept, Y/N. You need to take care of yourself. I can’t just sit back and watch you do this to yourself. It’s not healthy.”

That isn’t the last time I heard you say that, but it was the first. That became your favorite phrase at the end. “It’s not healthy,” as if you’re the judge of what’s healthy and not.

My heart ached at the sight of you; purple scarf disheveled and your eye bags a similar color. Your hair was tousled from running your hands through it and you looked like you might cry. I patted the seat next to me so you would sit down and then before I could even think them, the words were tumbling out of my mouth. Every. Damn. Detail.”

He remembered it so clearly, as if it were yesterday. The cold air bit at your skin causing you to shiver and pull your coat tighter. The only warmth either of you felt was what was radiating off the other. It wasn’t much. 

“It’s the nightmare, like the nightmare. The same one from Jacksonville. It just won’t go away. I wake up sweaty and disoriented and I can’t breathe.” 

Silence came. How hadn't he heard you wake up the last few nights? Why didn’t he notice? He silently scolded himself while watching your feet draw little shapes in the snow. The flakes landed on your hair perfectly and the light made you look like you had a halo. An angel. His angel.

You got yourself together and back tracked, “Do you know what I did before the BAU Spence?”

He thought for a moment and realized he didn’t. He had no idea. It was a strange feeling. He knew the last four or so years of your life so well. He spent two and some change of them with you, together, but he knew little about you before then. He knew about your family and your childhood, but that was it. Your early twenties were a secret. 

“No, I don’t,” He croaked, running his hands nervously down his pants, as if they were sweaty, “Rossi just called you one day and the next you were here.”

You sighed and didn’t dare look at him, “I worked with Organized Crime in California. With the Bratva.”

“The russian mafia?” His voice went high, like it always did when he was confused. 

“Let me start at the beginning,” You took a deep breath and held it for a moment, “I went to school, got my criminal justice degree, you know the usual stuff. I worked on various other criminal psychology and forensic degrees and certs until I turned twenty-three.”

“So you could join the bureau,” he finished your sentence. 

You pursed your lips and nodded, “Yeah, it was my life long dream. So I joined at 23, found myself in organized crimes twenty weeks later. I was on the fast track. Not as fast as you of course,” You smiled and bumped your shoulder with his, earning a warm smile that made you feel more comfortable. 

“I worked various cases for a year or two. Low level stuff, you know? Until they actually needed me.”

He was nervous to hear it now, half regretting asking, and half celebrating the fact that you’d share your deepest darkest with him. 

“You know like in old movies when the gangster has a pretty girl in a skimpy dress on his lap? And she pretends to know nothing about what he does? Yeah that was me. Turns out I was the right age and type for Alexei. So there I was. Twenty-five. Had no idea what I was doing, going undercover.”

“Like Emily did with Doyle,” he said. 

You nodded, “Like Emily and Doyle. That’s part of why we got along so well, we both had similar experiences. She knew what the long haul was like.”

“How long were you under?” Spencer whispered. 

“Sixteen months.”

His eyes went wide, “Sixteen?”

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’. 

“That’s a long time.”

“You don’t become a mafia kingpin’s girlfriend overnight, Reid.”

He laughed. You didn’t. 

“See you guys do the short stints. A night, maybe a day or so. It’s different. It’s draining. Constantly worrying about knowing the details of my cover while also not losing myself in the process. Sometimes I couldn’t tell where the cover ended and I started. I was paranoid, looking over my shoulder constantly. If they knew who I was, I’d get killed instantly.”

He stiffened next to you, but you carried on. 

“And you can’t break character. You have to do whatever they want. I had to be his girlfriend. I had to pretend to love him. You know how tiring that is? Pretending to be in love with a man you’re trying to take down? Pretending to like what he likes? Pretending to want to be a part of the sick shit they did?”

He sighed, “You had to do everything he wanted.”

His heart sank and he suddenly felt angry. He needed to punch this guy in the face. 

“Everything,” You practically spit out, venom dripping from the words, “And Alexei’s favorite pastime was killing people who he thought were disloyal. He’d switch it up. Some days he liked to make them suffer, others it was one between the eyes and out. He liked to make me watch.  He liked hurting the dancers too. They had a club, they always have a damn club, and those girls were the only friends I had for months. He liked to hurt them too, defile them. ‘Ruin them’ he’d say.”

Spencer’s arm reached around you now. The cold was getting to both of you, but you didn’t budge from the bench. You didn’t curl into him for safety. You just stared at the snow. 

“He liked when it hurt. He liked to throw things at me. Bruise me. Pull my hair. God I hated it,” your voice was a mere whisper now. Spencer’s grip around you tightened with every word. He wanted to protect you. He always wanted to protect you. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” He mumbled into your hair. A few frozen tears dripped down your cheeks. You sat like that, silently sobbing while remembering what had happened to you. What you’d seen. 

“What happened to him?”

You took a shaky breath, “I begged them to let me out. We had enough. I had stacks and stacks of pictures and evidence. But they didn’t let me. My awful handler would always say ‘just a few more days, Y/N, just a few.’ Then that would become another month. The job only needed eight months. I was there double that. Finally, they did the raid. I got kudos and congratulations. A promotion and a couple extra bucks, as if that would take away what I had been through. I wasn’t myself anymore.”

You took a thick swallow, finding it hard to breathe, “So I quit.”

Spencer held you still, not moving a muscle. 

“I quit. I gave up my dream. I moved back to Connecticut. I made coffee at Starbucks for $7.25 an hour. I read. I went on trips and vacations. I needed to find myself again. Then one day you guys stumbled into them and Rossi called me since I knew first hand how they worked. That was all I needed. A taste of it again, and I was all in. So a week later I showed up, Rossi raving about my ‘ability to get information out of people.’ I developed the skill to survive, Spence.”

You turned into him now, head on his chest. 

“So the nightmares are those memories. The girl’s faces. The young kids who messed up jobs. They’re hurting and I can’t save them. That’s the nightmare.”

You sat in silence, letting the words hang in the air between you. You were tired and spent, leaning your full body weight into him. He was just trying to relax and keep calm. He was pissed, and a little bit was directed at you. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N, but thank you for telling me,” His voice was low and raspy, his head spinning. For just over two years he had been your person. Your rock. And he didn’t know this about you? Why couldn’t you tell him? He told you all of his dirty secrets; his dad, the kidnapping, the drugs, and you ‘couldn’t tell him?’ Why?

“That’s why I was so scared when Emily ‘died.’” You used air quotes around the last word, “Her nightmare came true.”

“Yours won’t.”

You sniffled and rubbed your ice cold nose, “I know. You guys keep me safe.”

You looked up at him, falling into his big doe eyes. They were hurt and twisty, but full of love. And you looked at him like he was everything in the world. In that moment, he was. 

He treated you differently after that night. He was always kind and gentle, but he approached you with a new sense of care. He didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did. Someone finally understood you, and it felt so good. But one thing always bothered him, why did you wait so long to tell him? He didn’t think he’d ever know. 

“I loved you and trusted you enough to lay it all out for you, and you took it all in. You told me you wouldn’t let it change anything, but it did. I thought it changed us for the better. Maybe it didn’t, I’m still not sure. You told me it made me stronger, more resilient. It made you love me more, if that was even possible. It made me human. You told me Ernest Hemingway once said “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” You said I was strong at those broken places. 

So that’s what this photostrip is to me. It’s the day I officially took all of my walls down and showed you the parts of me that aren’t pretty, and you didn’t run away. You stayed and kissed me on that freezing cold park bench and warmed me up with a hug I never wanted to leave. I thought after that it would take something much greater than you or I to break this apart, like divine intervention. We were impenetrable, but then again, so was the Titanic.

That night I didn’t have any nightmares. I didn’t have a bad one until a few weeks ago. I missed having you next to me during it. You were right, talking about it does help. I’ll find someone out here to talk to, I promise. 

That night, all the walls were finally down. I think that was my fatal mistake, if only I kept them up a little while longer.

So look at us, all young and innocent before the world left us jaded and hurt. I miss your cheek kisses and the way your hands feel snaking around my waist. I miss your fact dumps and the way you feel like home. Thank you for taking me at my worst, loving me, and leaving me better than I was when you got there. Just like being under, it’s now hard for me to tell where I end and you begin. So many parts of you became parts of me. I’ll have to work on finding myself again, and this time I won’t do it over grande java-chip frappucinos, I’ll do it over case files. I’m finally done running away.” 

Spencer’s throat was dry and his palms were so sweaty the ink was bleeding underneath his fingers. How was he sweating when it was barely ten degrees outside? He put the letter and photo strip back in the box and stuffed it in the passenger seat of his car before walking back into the park. 

The fountain was off again, but he remembered what it looked like running. He walked the same paths you had walked with him a million times. He never wanted to walk them alone. He wondered if Seattle had any nice parks like this for you to walk through. He hoped you were close to Pike Place Market so you could order a coffee at the first ever Starbucks. He hoped you were happy. 

He remembered the way the park looked in the summertime, all lush, green grass and kid’s playing. He remembered the picnic you went on when the blanket flew away. He remembered kissing you under huge trees and feeding birds. As he walked around, he could almost see it, shadows of the people you used to be.  

He walked for maybe an hour before retreating back to his crappy car and crying for a moment. He didn’t turn the music back on as he drove home. He just thought of the way your body racked with tears at the nightmares and how he could always calm you down, almost instantly. He wondered who would see you through the nightmares now? They’re too hard to do alone. 

He didn’t remember when he got home, seemingly having driven on auto-pilot the whole time. When he got back inside he dropped the box and made a beeline for where his copy of your photo strip was, on one of his many shelves covered in books. He grabbed the book he had started six months ago. It was a gift from Rossi and he only read half of it, a rarity for him. When he got halfway through, everything happened and he couldn’t bring himself to open the book up anymore. He rifled through the pages of  ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ and found the photo strip where it was acting as a bookmark on the page where he had left off. He took it out and slammed the book closed, not wanting to read any of the words, even by accident. 

He took the strip over and compared it to yours. His was worn and bent and the shiny photo paper had dulled from the many pages he had stuck it between. Yours was in perfect condition, still shiny and even a little sticky, like it hadn’t been touched. He stared at them, wondering what your life would be now if you could’ve held onto the people in that photo booth. There were so many what-ifs, he didn’t even know where to begin. He knew he couldn’t just leave it at these letters, he needed more. He needed to see you and he fully intended on breaking your ground rules, but not until he was finished. He walked back to the box with newfound vigor, and grabbed #9.

PART 10!

taglist: @l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings

@ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67 @blushingwueen @peaxhyjaes @justanotherfangurlz @juniorgman187 @mbowles23-blog​ @blameitonthenight @goldentournesol​

(i think some tags aren’t working so if anyone knows how to fix that pls lmk :)

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Get To Know Evelyn

Pia Loyola as Dr. Evelyn Bennington

Name: Evelyn Maria Bennington

Nationality: US American

Birthdate: November 1st, 1993

Hometown: Jacksonville, FL

Occupation: Resident Physician (medical diagnosis)

Talents/Skills: multitasking, public speaking, reading people, dancing, soccer.

Parents: Richard Bennington and Esperanza Guerrero Bennington

Siblings: Everett (twin brother)

Grandparents: Ronald and Linda Bennington (on father's side), Ramón and María Guerrero (on mother's side)

Character Background: Evelyn was born in Jacksonville, FL and lived most of her childhood alone with her mother and twin brother because her father is a US Navy chief officer and traveled most of the time. Raised in a conservative home with many strict rules, Evelyn did her best to be the nice girl with excellent grades, yet she didn't complain. The many extra the extracurricular activities she did from a very young age led to Columbia University. Being one of the top students of her class, she was handpicked by Dr. Ethan Ramsey when she applied for the medical residency at Edenbrook.

Best Childhood Memories: Summer trips to Puerto Plata (her grandparents on her mother's side hometown).

Height: 5'9’’

Weight: 128 lbs

Ethnicity: Latina (Chilean) / Caucasian (US/Australia)

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Dark brown

Skin color: Olive brown

What initially attracted her to her partner?

Ideal Career Path: Physician/Medical Diagnosis Specialist

Academic Inclination: Science

How does she dress: Classic/casual

Habits: Eating junk food, not sleeping enough

Hobbies: Reading, watching DIY videos, dancing, watching tv

Greatest flaws: Perfectionist, close guarded, strong tendency to keep things to herself and hold grudges

Best qualities: Eloquent, open-minded, curious, quick learner

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Love Interests: Rafael Aveiro

She was drawn to his kindness, sense of justice and humbleness.

Relationships background: Evelyn only started dating after she went to Columbia University and never introduced any boyfriend to her family before Rafael. Unlike her brother, she didn't want her family meddling into her relationships. Her prom date was a friend she had no romantic feelings for, but she didn't mind. They just wanted to dance and have fun at prom night without making a big deal of it.

Close Friends: Elijah Greene, Sienna Trinh, Bryce Lahela

How does she express affection?

She's only affectionate with family and close friends. Not really a hugger, unless it's a person she really loves.

Does she have a temper?

Not really.

Does she exercise?

Dancing and yoga on her days off.

One random headcanon: She's two minutes younger than her brother and despite the physical resemblances, they have nothing in common. They get along really well though. He was the golden boy of their school, so she was somewhat popular for being his sister. She didn't mind to live under his shadow. It was convenient to her that Everett got all the attention. She only figured out who she truly is during college.

[hadenodom-stories]

Clair’s Voyage, Part 1

Clair woke up in a cold sweat.  There was no light breaking through her open window, and her heavy dark Navy curtains made no noise as they wavered in the summer wind.  It was the 5th of July, and she was freaking out.  Have you ever had a dream that stays on your mind and colors your mood for an entire day?  Clair had just endured the second such dream in as many nights.

Regardless of the dread her dream had instilled in her, she knew she had to get up and moving.  Yesterday's dream had nearly sapped her of all of her energy, and her friend Elaine had noticed at the neighborhood 4th of July cookout.  "I've never seen you in such a foul mood", she'd remarked.  She couldn't let that happen today.  She had a very important interview, and her entire future potentially hinged on it.  She couldn't be in a dour, depressed state -- 'Then I'll have to fake a smile', she thought, 'and I'm absolute shit at that'.  

Despite a grim determination to force herself into a better mood, she found herself dwelling on the previous day's events as she trudged through the hallways of her quiet house towards the kitchen.  By the time she was sitting down, her head full of frizzy auburn hair slumped forward beholding the sight of a depressing bowl of some "healthy" cereal that'd been sitting in the cupboards well past its expiration date, her mind was busy replaying  and reliving the most traumatic part of that day.  The part that she'd seen before in a nightmare just hours before it happened in real life.  The part of the day that was at first clouded in a sense of Déjà vu -- a surreal "I've seen all of these events, in this exact order, before..." sense -- until it burst into traumatic realness.  The pops and whizzes of fireworks zooming into the sky.  The cheers of the neighborhood kids as one particularly bright, low, and loud firecracker exploded.  Her younger brother looking at her with a cheeky "watch this" expression as he prepared to light a cobbled-together collection of old fireworks that he'd taped together and put into a small pipe to launch.  His uncomprehending, still-excited face as the spark ran along the fuse far too fast and the pipe began to tilt back towards him.  The flash and screams afterwards.  And everything going black once she saw the blood and exposed bone.  Once she realized how bad it might be...

She neatly placed her spoon back on the table and stood up.  'No way I can fucking eat now', she thought.  As she walked out onto the back patio and tossed the now-soggy cereal out into the yard for the local cats to enjoy, she remembered her mom's instructions:

"Look, go home.  Just go home.  You heard the doctor, honey.  He's going to be alright.  They're doing their best.  We won't be able to see him for quite a while.  I'll stay here for now.  Just go home and sleep in your own bed.  Get you mind off of it and come back when you're able."

Clair slammed the patio door shut behind her, furious now.  She understood that her mother wasn't exactly a master of emotional understanding or empathy, but how could she be so fucking stupid?  How could her mom just think that she'd be able to go home and be comfortable knowing her brother was in surgery, having seen what happened to him?  'I'm an adult now, but goddamn, how do I even process this on my own?  How do I just move on with my life?  How can she expect me to just go home, forget all about it, and then get ready for this interview?"

She continued to ruminate and curse her mother's lack of empathy - or at least the kind of empathy Clair expected - as she lazily got ready for her interview.  It was only 5 AM and her interview wasn't until 9, but there wasn't anything else to do and she certainly couldn't go back to sleep.  She was going to put on a frightfully awful dress - she hated dresses - with a pair of shiny black businesslike pumps - which she also loathed - and apply more makeup than usual, and then go spend a couple of hours at the hospital trying to get an update on her brother's situation.  'I'll go ahead and let mom know that I can't handle this on my own while I'm there', she thought.  'She won't care, but I'll let her know'

In her old, grey Civic hatchback with the paint peeling, she barely focused on the road or on driving.  The static-filled dulcet tones of an NPR reporter reciting headlines momentarily calmed her, but she wasn't processing any of the words.  She was just busy thinking of what she could remember from last night's dream.  It was a mess - all she could remember was some boy she barely recognized (but couldn't place) talking to her mother, and her mother suddenly displaying more emotion than Clair had ever seen from her - but she still wasn't able to actually identify the emotion her mother was feeling in the dream.  Something like shock - or confusion - or betrayal - or all of those.  Clair tried in vain to figure out who the boy in the dream was - his face looked very familiar, but she couldn't remember where, other than the dream, she'd seen him. And as for what emotion her mother had been reacting with or what the boy had been telling her mother, she was at a complete loss.  Her eyes flashed upon a sign and her brakes squealed.  Lost in thought, she'd almost missed the exit for the hospital.

The hospital was a tiny rural hospital on the edge of town, a decaying building full of old doctors and young underpaid nurses, kept alive on a shoestring budget despite the exorbitant prices it charged you for the simple privilege of remaining alive.  Clair was sure that her mom wasn't ready for any of the financial burden her brother had just incurred -- at least not on the meager retirement checks and alimony they'd subsisted on since her dad had left.  Walking into the main waiting room, she was mentally prepared to hit her mom hard with three questions:  "How is he?", "When can I see him?", and "You're not going to make me stay at the house by myself for another night".  The last one wasn't a question, but she expected, at the very least, her mother's acknowledgement.  Instead, she was met by the face from her dream - the unfamiliar boy - walking out of an empty waiting room.  She couldn't help but stop in her tracks and stare at him.  "You're Micheal's sister, right?", the boy said, seemingly unphased by her glare.  "Yes", she finally managed to respond.  "He's not here anymore", the boy replied.  

"What?"

"They took him to a hospital in Jacksonville.  He's stable.  Your mom didn't call you and tell you?"

"No..."

"Oh, well.  They left about 30 minutes ago.  He's stable, but your mom's kind of a wreck.  I stayed to meet up with his friend Lisa who wants to ride with me to Jacksonville.  He's going to go into another surgery to try to save his face and they said he'll probably be ready for visitors by later tonight."

'This is absurd', Clair thought.  'How can this random boy know more about my brother's situation than me.  How could my mom be so detached as to not tell me any of this?  And I'll be goddamned if anyone's going to finally visit my brother's hospital room before me'

"You can ride with us if you'd like", the boy offered.

"No, thanks, I actually have to drive to Jacksonville this morning anyways.  I have an interview at 9..."

"Say no more... I guess I'll see you there"

With that, the boy walked past her.  She turned and followed him outside.  "So... who are you?"

"Oh, we've met before I think.  I'm Cavill, Micheal's... we're friends.  I've been here since last night worried sick about him.  I guess your mom wanted you to be home so you wouldn't worry yourself sick like her."

"Fat lot of good that did", Clair replied drearily.  "And yeah, we have met... Micheal just never bothers to introduce his friends to us.  I guess he gets that from mom, the habit of keeping everyone at a distance"

"Cigarette?"  Cavill was holding out a crumpled pack of smokes.  It was odd to think that anyone Micheal hung out with smoked -- to Clair, she couldn't think of her brother as anything but a kid.  Hell, she had a hard time calling herself an "adult"

"No thanks", she replied, waving sheepishly.  

"I quit like a month ago - most on your brother's insistence.  But sitting here waiting last night and stressing out... I just couldn't do it.  I went and bought a pack of smokes.  Micheal would be ashamed of me."

"Don't say that.  I've never known Micheal to be anything but supportive"

"Yeah, but he..."  Cavill's voice trailed off as he began to choke up.  "He's the only person that really ever cared, you know?  And I care about him too.  I don't want to let him down."  A single tear ran down his cheek.

Clair was at a complete loss.  She always came to a complete loss when anyone cried or became vulnerable around her.  'I guess I'm not too unlike my mother', she thought.

"You won't.  You know he talks about you sometimes?  The other day he told me that you're learning guitar and that you're pretty good"

"I'm not, and he knows it.  He just..."

She wasn't sure why Cavill was trailing off now.  She'd met friends of her brother's before, but something was different in the way Cavill talked about his bond with Micheal.  What was it?  

Suddenly, some neurons firing in her brain or some semblance of emotional intelligence came to her, and it made sense.  Months before, Micheal had confessed to her that he was in a relationship but said it was a secret and refused to give her any more details.  It'd annoyed her at the time - she hated secrets in any form and saw them as puzzles or riddles that she needed to solve - but now, with her brother's somewhat-secretive friend quietly crying over a cigarette in front of her, an uncomfortably vulnerable figure, she felt like she was close to unraveling this particular puzzle.  She eyed Cavill again, taking him in.  He was a bit taller than her brother, and thinner.  His hair was golden-brown and jettisoned out from his head at odd angles, like some sort of anime character's.  His face didn't quite match it - soft angles, a small button of a nose, and thin lips.  Blue eyes.  He looked absolutely sad, and she couldn't stand to leave him here on his own.

"You're going to Jacksonville, right?", she said.

"Yeah, but I'm waiting for Lisa, remember?  She's my ride"

"Well, you can ride with me if you want.  I'm going right now."

"That's probably more convenient.  Lisa lives between here and Jacksonville and hasn't even left her house yet".

"Well, I'll make some room in my car.  And I have an interview later on, so I won't be able to give you a ride back until after lunch"

"That's okay, I'm staying at the hospital for the day if I can help it"

Clair looked at Cavill, who'd extinguished his cigarette between his fingers and was starting to walk behind her towards her car.  "Go wash you hands and splash some water on your face", she said.  "I don't want the smell of cigarettes in my car, and besides, you look tired"

Cranking her car, her head disappeared in thought again.  What was the meaning of the dream she'd had the night before?  What kind of secret life had her brother been living?  Who is this Cavill kid she's seen around who's suddenly very attached to her brother?  Why would her mom not tell her that her brother had been taken to a hospital an hour's drive south for surgery?  What was Cavill telling her mom in the dream she'd just had, and why did it make her mom so... upset?  

She couldn't sit there with her thoughts for a second longer, so she reached for the pair of pliers in the center console and used them to twist the metal stub on which her car radio's volume knob had once rested.  The dulcet tones of the NPR announcer now filled the silence:  

"Next on NPR:  We talk to an experimental psychologist about a new study on the phenomenon of apparently precognitive dreams.  Can dreams predict the future?"  

Not even NPR was going to give her a moment of escapism. 

=============================================

This is part one of my unfinished series about a girl named Clair whose dreams begin to mirror reality (sounds fun until it happens to you!), which for now is going to be titled “Clair’s Voyage”.  I started writing a story along these lines, with much less detail, a few years ago until it was apparent that I was writing a longer story than I’d set out to write.  At that time, I just saved the draft but left it unfinished.  Now, I’m adding more details and breaking it out into different parts.  It may become a book by the time I’m done.  Clair, you see, is an aspiring psychiatrist - she loves studying the mind and how it works - but right now she’s just trying to struggle through community college and get a job as a secretary at the local psychiatric hospital.  She’s also trying to struggle with the traumatic events surrounding an eerie July 4th, on which her brother was grievously injured in a scene that played out exactly how it had played out in her nightmare the night before.  With her brother’s boyfriend, Cavill, at her side, she’s about to embark on a journey of discovery and empowerment filled with ups and downs and unspeakable trauma.  So be sure to tune in for the next Part of Clair’s Voyage. 

[voorbeees]

Hello, I have finished the 3rd chapter of dad jesse au. you can read it here or here

Jesse is...put straightforward, fucking exhausted. He knows he's not getting any younger but fuck. Time can allow him one small morsel of relaxation. The separation of work and hobby has always been exceptionally easy for him to manage. During the day he's able to keep composure and do things that furthers his company's success. Meanwhile at night he's always able to release that built up pressure. That second part has been just a teeny bit harder for him to accomplish lately. Especially when Tilly will just not go the fuck to sleep.

Lately it seems she's made a conscious effort to avoid bedtime at any cost. Tonight it seems the urge is even stronger. Jesse can't talk, which is probably for the best. If he could he would be shouting swears and yelling and he really doesn't like the mental image of the young girl cowering from him. Unfortunately that means he also can't read bedtime stories, something that seemed to crush Tilly when she learned of it. Jesse had felt so bad about the whole thing that he'd had Spann record herself reading a child's book just so he could play it at night for her. It isn't the same but she seems to accept it.

Tonight they both sit on the couch. Jesse in black sweats and a black tank top, a far cry from his typical blue-collar fashion. Tilly wears the new pajamas she got recently. They're red and have teeny horses on them (one of her most recent obsessions). Jesse can't even remember what movie they're watching. He thinks it's about cats, but it's hard to tell when all the colors from the animation keep blending the fuck together every time his eye starts to cross from exhaustion.

Tilly sits beside him, seemingly content to ignore the movie altogether. (So why the fuck is he trying to make the conscious effort to watch it.) She hums as she trades out her red marker for her green one. Another of her new hobbies seems to be coloring in Jesse's blank tattoos anytime she gets the chance. So much for just enjoying the black ink. Thank God his suit conceals it until all of the marker wears off.

Jesse let's out a deep sigh just as he's about to finally fall sleep when he realizes Tilly has put down her marker. He hopes to God this means she's ready to go to bed but a quick glance proves wrong. Her eyes are glued to the screen where she watches one of the cats playing the piano. (Honestly who made this movie? Cats playing pianos, ha! And why the hell is that what he's concerned with right now.)

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the left. There's a brief hesitation to his movement but he works against it. Jesse taps her on the shoulder and the small girl looks up at him with those big eyes. He's still trying to keep signing as simple as possible but he also doesn't want to rely on the phone for communication. He mimicks playing a piano like on the TV and then points at her.

Tilly's tiny face scrunches up in confusion. Of course nothing could be that simple. Jesse repeats the action, this time slower. It takes her a minute but he thinks she's finally got it.

"I can't play the piano." Her tiny voice squeaks out and no it seems she still doesn't understand.

He repeats the action again. Piano and then pointing to her. Jesse gives her a minute and watches as she pieces it together. Tilly's face lights up with a massive smile as she looks up at him. She jumps up, grabbing his arm and shaking it. "I wanna learn to play it! I wanna learn to play it!" Almost immediately after though her face falls and she stops jumping. "But we don't have a piano ."

Jesse shakes his head and stands, motioning for her to follow. "But we don't have one...do we?" Tilly trails along beside him expecting an answer but receiving none, at least until he opens the door to a room she's never really paid attention to before. Her face lights up and she darts inside but Jesse stays at the threshold. He feels his chest start to constrict. The room itself is unexceptional save for the marble that decorates the floor and its white walls. Well that and the piano that sits inside. It's entirely unspectacular but the sentimental value it caries feels like its strangling him.

Back in Jacksonville he had bought the piano and fixed up one of the rooms in his mansion there. Sure he knows how to play it but it was mainly purchased for his wife. Jesse can only remember her playing it a handful of times though. More often than not she coerced him into playing it while she either sat beside him or danced lazily with a glass of wine in her hand. It was a dead memory now and he couldn't help the way it made him feel nauseous. (Would she still want him to play for her now? His facial features altered from all the reconstructive surgeries.)

When he'd moved to LA, Jesse had packed the piano and had it transported to the new mansion. His wife was never in this room or this house, but he'd made an effort to replicate the room the piano once occupied. The only thing that remained of his wife's attachment to the object was a framed photograph of her he'd placed on one of the small side tables in the room. Other than that she was entirely gone, out of his grasp.

The sound of piano keys smashing has Jesse's memories crashing and burning. He's abruptly brought back to reality. His good eye sees Tilly's tiny hands dragging across the instrument but her attention is short lived. She let's out a gasp. "Who's this!" The little girl rushes toward the photo of his wife and pulls it off the table to inspect it. There's no ill intent behind her movement but Jesse's moving before he can ground himself. He marches in and yanks the picture frame from her hands, his good eye boring a hole into her very form. A silent: don't fucking do that again, hangs in the air.

"I -I'm sorry." Tilly shrinks in on herself. She clutches her hands near her chest, almost like she's afraid they'll get her into trouble. Her bottom lip quivers and Jesse catches sight of the tears threatening to spill from her green eyes.

Jesus what the fuck is wrong with him. Here he is clutching to the photo and offering more protection to it than he actually did his wife when she needed him. Jesse takes a breath and exhales shakily before he hands the frame to her.

Tilly watches him for a moment before she snatches the item almost how a wild dog would snatch food from a hand. The woman in it is smiling and it's a headshot. It almost makes her wonder if it were for the lady's job. Her blonde hair is cut to just above her shoulders and diamond earrings decorate her earlobes. The matching necklace lays against her clavicle. "Who is she?" She looks back to Jesse.

He really needed to teach her more sign. It would be easier than his current plan, which is to retrieve a pad and pen from the corner desk and write. When he does turn the paper to her, his scribbly cursive has written one word. Wife.

"You're married?!" Her tiny head wipes back and forth as if she's trying to decipher where the woman is hiding at in the room. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her brows knit as her lip pouts. This whole time she could have had a mother figure but he chose not to tell her. "Where is she?!" Tilly almost regrets that question instantly when she sees the way Jesse flinches ever so slightly. Oh no. That's not good. Did she upset him? Is he going to be mad at her? He's never punished her (unless you count not being able to watch a movie as punishment) but that doesn't mean that he won't or couldn't do it, right? Tilly blinks with a tiny furrowed brow as she looks up at him. "She isn't here, is she?" Her voice is probably the lowest Jesse has ever heard it but judging by the way he looks at her, Tilly knows the answer. Now she desperately wants to ask what happened. Did she leave? Did he leave her? No, that didn't seem right judging by his posture. Her little eyes go wide at the prospect that something else could have happened. Oh no. That would explain the sadness. She's stuck in that loop of thought until she sees the note pad in front of her again.

Do you still want to play the piano? Jesse feels like he already knows the answer to this question. His main goal is to change the subject, and just as he thought, he's met with an aggressive head nod. He grins (if it can even be described as that on his disfigured face) and his shoulders jump with a silent laugh. He makes his way over to the instrument and motions for Tilly to follow.

Jesse lifts her with no issue and places her on the small bench sitting in front of the piano and then sits beside her. Already he can practically feel her vibrating with excitement. It makes him vaguely think about how he can't remember the last time he felt like that. The thought is cut abruptly short as a loud THWANK echoes in the empty room. He makes a face and jabs a pinky in his ear, almost like he's testing to make sure his hearing is still working. Jesus Christ he needs to put more things in here so it isn't so loud.

A nervous smile decorates the girl's face. "Sorry." It's followed by a nervous laugh. Somehow Jesse can't help thinking he's going to regret showing and teaching her the piano. Goodbye peace and quiet.

He exhales and intertwines his fingers before popping them. From the corner of his good eye he sees Tilly doing the same and matching his expression. God, at this moment she could ask him to burn the mansion down and he would. Oh no, that wasn't good, was it? Fuck. She really did have him wrapped around her finger.

Jesse takes precise care when he starts showing her where to place her hands. This is another time being mute has fucked him over. It's kind of hard to teach someone to play the piano when you can't explain the sound or which key makes it. He makes a mental note. If Tilly ends up seeming to have an interest in it, then he'll just get a teacher. It's not really the same, but she'll get the knowledge out of it that she wants.

He focuses back on the currently reality. Tilly watches as his forefinger and thumb press several keys and it makes a melody. She blinks as she watches his other hand and fingers begin to find their rhythm, each seeming to press a different key. She glances down at her own small hand. That may be a little harder for her. Although she was pretty positive that Jesse had the biggest hands she'd ever seen. Maybe that's why he was able to play so well. Tilly continues to watch, her eyes darting between him and his hands. Was it even harder with one eye? She wanted to ask but something told her that probably wasn't the best idea. Instead she settled for listening to the melody and leaning her head against his arm. It had to be the most soothing melody she'd ever heard.

Glancing down, Jesse couldn't help but mentally pat himself on the back. A simple lesson seemed to be having a drowsy effect on her. Opposite of what the goal was, but fuck, if she was going to finally go to sleep, he was more than happy with that. A few more moments he played the song until he ended it on a soft key. Another glance proved him right.

Finally.

God, if he had known this would make her sleep, then he'd have done it to begin with. Jesse sits there for a minute. He observes the room. It doesn't feel the way it used to. Maybe actually coming in here had done that. He wasn't sure. Maybe he'd let Tilly decorate it in her odd little way. There's no point in keeping the past alive anymore when it's dead.

He sighs and scoops her into his arms as he stands.

"Can we play the piano again sometime?" He glances down to see her little eyes cracked open. Jesse nods and she sighs happily, returning to sleep. "I like the piano." He can't really say what comes over him, but yea, he thinks he's starting to like the piano again.

[ellendorit]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Anna Konya 80’s/90’s Gypsy Style Dress.

[whiskey-bumblebee]

I Want Candy

Pairing: Pale/Reader

Word Count: 1953

Year: (after Raw, before Vacation)

A/N: This one is a little bit sad but nothing awful. Extensive discussion of Pale being a father (not related to reader) consistent with character’s backstory. Mostly plot, sorry! Mentions of condom-tampering by Pale’s ex.

You’d noticed Pale buying things that were a little out of the ordinary for him. Twizzlers? Sure he’d bought them once or twice when he was stressed, but pop rocks? Skittles? Fun dip?

Then you noticed the packing tape, the little boxes he’d been buying. Most curious of all, sheets of thick cardboard. And marbles.

One night, you got up for a drink of water and found him in the kitchen, bent over the island as he measured out some cardboard.

“Pale?”

“Jesus fuck!” Pale breathed your name as he turned around and saw it was you. You leaned to the side, trying to see around him.

“Look, I didn’t wanna say anything but... What’s happening?”

Pale cleared his throat and stretched out his back, leaning side to side. Must have been leaning over for a while.

“Uh, you remember my kid, right?”

You nodded.

“With Halloween coming up, he’s not allowed any candy and I thought I’d send him some. Not fair if all his friends get to go trick or treating and he doesn’t, you know? His mom, she’s uhh... Not a very nice lady. Kid deserves a chance to get all shot up with sugar now and again. Part of growin’ up.”

You squinted, eyes adjusting to the light in the kitchen after being asleep for a while. 

“So the marbles?”

Pale nodded and gestured for you to look. “I put false bottoms in all the little boxes I send him. The post office doesn’t give a shit because it’s clearly candy right? Hell, even if it was heroin, they’d probably let it through. Anything going New York, Miami ain’t worth their trouble. So, the story is that my kid is having a marbles phase. But the good marbles are the ones that aren’t common in Miami. Gotta come from Canada, that part’s true. So I get them shipped here cos they don’t ship Toronto to Miami, only Toronto across the border. Also true.”

“Hang on, so your kid’s having a marbles phase?”

“Nah, that part’s bullshit. He’s smart, made that bit up, found a company in Toronto that makes good marbles, according to his friends, now he’s got a perfect excuse for getting a bunch of packages from me. Marbles go in and out real fast, who knew?”

You smiled and rested your head on Pale’s back. “He’s like you then, huh? Smart, resourceful. Gonna have to watch out when he gets old enough to work in the restaurant industry.”

He turned around and wrapped you in his arms. “You think I’m smart?”

“Mhm. Einstein level shit, all the logistics you do.”

Pale let you go and turned back to the packages. “Been doing it for a week or two now so he can start a decent stockpile under his bed or wherever the fuck.”

“You wanna send him a big one for Halloween?”

Pale worked for a moment, considering what you’d said. 

“I don’t know how we’d get away with it. Mom’s Catholic, she isn’t big into Halloween. Devil’s work and all that. Apparently she only likes holy spirits, not just the regular spirit schmucks. Poor guys. Reckon they get that kinda discrimination from a lotta folks.”

You chuckled tiredly, then yawned. “I gotta get back to bed. Do this during the day, alright? Ain’t gotta hide from me.”

“Baby,” Pale turned around and took your hand. “It ain’t that. Well, I didn’t wanna upset you by talking ‘bout her, but it ain’t that. Angel, I just ain’t got time during the day. By the time I get home, my eyes are shot from being up so long. Hands are shakin’ from holding a knife, or grippin’ the steering wheel. Gotta rest for a bit before I’m good to go again.”

Sadness fell over your face, you felt it. Your eyebrows drawing together, frown pulling at your chin. “Pale...” You stroked your hands over his hair, gathering the hair at his temples and pushing it back. 

He kissed your palms. “C’mon, I’ll come back to bed with ya. You can cut the things for the bottom of the boxes, you got littler hands that’ll actually fit in the fuckin’ scissors.”

**

“Pale, you know the thing you did before you met me? Before you had your current job?”

“Can’t say it out loud, dollface, but yeah.”

“Did you ever do it in Miami?”

“Yeah, real good at it too. Cops are slow over there. Fuckin’ alcoholics.”

“Are there any guys you trust enough to let them near your house?”

“Yeah. Couple of guys came over a few times, said they were friends from work. Trusted ‘em with my life.”

“Any one in particular come to mind?”

Without skipping a beat, Pale nodded. “Ethan.”

You nodded. 

“What are you getting at, huh?” Pale glanced at you for a moment, away from the road.

“Just thinkin’. What if we made that Halloween package for your son, got Ethan to deliver it early in the morning or something? Leave it somewhere he knew to look?”

Pale was quiet for a while, then slowly began to nod. “That’ll work. I can call Ethan, tell him there’s a package I wanna send to the house. He won’t ask questions. I’d do the same for him. Then call the kid and tell him where to look.”

**

It was childlike, the fun you had with Pale putting the gift together, assembling candy in all the colors of the rainbow into an altogether excessive box. You only wished you could see the look on his face when he opened it. The thought sent a twang of pain through your chest. If you wanted to see his reaction, how bad did Pale wanna see it?

“Pale?”

“Yeah?”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

Pale drummed his fingers across the coffee table, expressing a guilt he couldn’t name out loud, allowing the feeling to bubble out of him through his hands. Maybe that’s why he liked the piano.

“When I left Miami.”

You swallowed and nodded. It wasn’t the right time to ask. 

“Terrible dad, huh?” Pale was turning inward, caving into his ribcage so he felt like he didn’t have to look at you. 

“Pale, terrible dads wouldn’t be sitting here, making a beautiful little box of candy to send all the way to Miami. A terrible dad wouldn’t be staying up all night shipping candy hidden in boxes of marbles.”

You shuffled across the carpet and rested your head on your shoulder and your hands on his thigh. 

“Thanks angel. Just a terrible husband then?”

You huffed a laugh and kissed his cheek. “Yeah. I’ll let you have that. I’m sure she’s a worse wife than you’re a bad husband. I guess good husbands don’t fuck girls from Manhattan.”

“Girl from Manhattan,” Pale corrected. “If she had any lady parts left she’d be doing the same thing, someone from Jacksonville. Fuckin’ shame they’ve all turned to dust.”

You laughed and turned your face into Pale’s shoulder. “What’s his name? What’s he like?”

Pale shook his head. “I’m not a good dad, never had the whole moment where I fell in love with him. He’s alright-looking, mostly looks like her, but he’s got my nose I think. He’s a math kid. His name’s Joseph, I call him Joe. Typical of her to call him something like Joseph. Surprised she didn’t go with a saint name.”

He lifted the box. “Jesus, this is heavy. I think we’re done. Wanna help me do the ribbon?”

You nodded and pressed on the lid, hovering your finger over the ribbon as he tied the bow.

“I love you Pale.”

He looked at you when he finished adjusting the bow. “Yeah?”

You nodded. He nodded.

“I love you too. Know I don’t say it often enough, but I do. Love you more than anyone else I’ve ever known. And, uh, it’s nice. Not doing Halloween and everything alone. It’s hard sometimes when kids come knocking and there’s a kid with a little mop ‘a hair that looks like him.”

“I wanna kiss you so bad,” You breathed. 

He smiled and ran the pad of his thumb over your chin. “The girl from Manhattan wants to kiss me huh?”

You nodded, smiling like a lovestruck fool. Smiling as a lovestruck fool.

“C’mere then.”

**

brrrrriiiiiiiiiinngggg

brrrrriiiiiiiiiinngggg

“You expecting a call, angel?” Pale mumbled into your skin. 

You nodded and yawned. “Pick it up for me?”

Pale picked up the phone.

“Pale speakin’ but you’ve reached me and my girl, how can I help ya?”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, then watched Pale, waiting for a reaction.

“Joseph?”

“C’mon Dad, you know I don’t like my big name.”

Pale looked over at you, tears in his eyes. He took your hand in his and held it tightly.

“Happy halloween bud. Figured mom wouldn’t want you to go trick or treating so I went for ya. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Do I ever! Thanks dad, you’re the best!”

“Everything looks good? Nothing you don’t like?”

“I don’t like sweet tarts but everything else looks so good.”

“That’s good, kid. You gotta go to school or something?”

“Yeah, I got about five minutes before the bus comes. The girl at your place said I should call if I had time.”

“Thanks Joe. It’s good to hear your voice. You got a phone in your room now?”

“Yeah, my friends all have them and we call when the weather’s bad and we can’t play outside.”

“I should call you more often then, huh?” 

“Mom said you’re too busy.”

Pale scowled.

“Never too busy to catch up with ya. Listen, call me whenever it suits you, right? If I ain’t home then the lady can chat with ya and let you know when to call back.”

“What’s her name? She nice?”

Pale spoke your name so reverently you felt like a goddess. 

“She’s great. She wants to meet ya sometime.”

“That mean you’re gonna come to Florida?”

“We’ll see, no promises it’ll be soon, but sometime.”

“I miss you, dad. It’s funny, I don’t even know what you look like anymore. You could have grey hair like an old man.”

Pale carded a hand through his hair and grinned. The movement sent the tears welling in his eyes streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey, have some respect for your old man, huh? My hair’s still black, eyes are still brown. Is your nose still crooked from when you broke it playing football?”

There was a pause. You could imagine Joseph tracing his nose with a finger.

“A little. There’s still a-”

A pause again.

“Sorry dad, I gotta go. Bus is here.”

“See ya, Joe. Have a good day.”

“Bye!”

The receiver clicked.

Pale pulled you close to him and pressed his face into your chest.

“You see any grey hairs?”

You kissed his hair. “None. Still sexy as ever.”

“You hear what he said? You’re the best.”

“He isn’t wrong.” You ran your fingertips over Pale’s shoulders. “You’re a good dad, Pale.”

Pale hummed. “I wish I’d had a kid with you instead.”

“You know I don’t really want kids.”

Pale huffed a laugh. “I don’t either. I like Joe, but he wasn’t meant to happen. She poked a hole in the condom we used and it ripped. She told me the truth about it when she went into labor. Said it was her duty to have kids, even if I didn’t want them.”

“I’m so sorry,” You breathed. “That’s terrible.”

He sat up and shrugged. “Just wish you’d done it instead, wish I met you first. I’d stick around if it was you.”

You nodded with a soft smile. “I’d stick around too.”