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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly.

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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mah-gah-lee · 3 years

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What a weird family reunion Reggie x Reader (xLuke)

gif originally posted by @jatpsource

Word Count: 3515 words

Summary: You’re Reggie’s little sister. You were 3 when he died. You’re now a ghost for a decade. One night, you recognize your brother and jumped into him to an unexpected family reunion. How is it going to happen? Will Reggie believe you? In a mysterious way, that’s Luke who help you to convinced Reggie.

Warnings: cuss (language), mention of death, mention of divorce, mention of drugs

A/N: This is my first fic about jatp characters. Hope you’ll enjoy! keep in mind that french is my first language, so i’m so sorry if there’s some mistakes in my fic

disclaimer: It takes place during episodes 6 and 7. I do not take into account the possibility of a Juke. The chemistry while they sing is there but no romantic feelings.

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove

_______

Losing a child is the worst thing a parent could live, losing two is unimaginable. It’s seems being 17 years old was a new malediction in Peters family.

You were 3 when your older brother, Reginald, died in a weird hot dog accident. At that point, your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce but never did it because of you. You were too young to be in a divided family, according to them. But Reggie's death separated them for good. Yet they really tried to support each other, to overcome that and give you all the attention you needed. But your mother overprotected you and made you live in the shadow of your late brother. Your dad couldn't stand it. And when they finally divorce, moving out from reggie’s childhood house, you went to live with your dad.

Even though you were too young to form a strong bond with your brother, in a way you missed him. Your mother’s house was full of pictures of him, some of his clothes were still in a room, dedicated to him. When you visited your mother, you didn’t understand why you always found yourself in this room. You were drawn like a magnet to the comforting room. Reggie’s presence in this new house brought you such a sense of security that your mother had repeatedly found you asleep on a pile of your brother’s T-shirts.

And then you died in 2009. Kanye West had interrupted Taylor Swift's speech at the VMAs, Miley Cyrus hadn't gone crazy yet and One Direction didn't exist yet. What an era! You didn't know why the great light didn't come looking for you but you were there, as a ghost in 2009. And the time has passed ... You've had your best concerts, the best parties. A forever teenager who couldn't eat, drink or sleep.

And then 2020 came.

…

You were tired of always doing the same thing for over a decade, but you couldn't help but go to every open scene that came up in your beautiful city. It was as if an inexplicable force was pushing you to go there.

This evening was no exception to the rule and you were in a very hip little bar in the city center. You wore one of those sleeveless, gray crop tops with high waisted pants, your leather jacket draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were directly drawn to a group of girls in colorful costumes. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It's been 10 years since you died and it seemed to you that these girls looked like the same plagues that ruined the lives of so many teenagers in your time. You put on an expression of disgust when they all took the stage, but when the music started you couldn't help but admit it was pretty catchy. However, you didn't expect a ghost to appear in the middle of the stage, improvising a choreography. Was that part of the show?

But looking at the audience's non-reaction, you knew it wasn't. The ghost disappeared for the first time, and your gaze sought directly the distinctive light source of another apparition in the room. Your gaze lingered on a small group of three boys - the blond boy included - and two girls. You have wrinkled your eyes to better distinguish the teenagers, and your face expressed confusion.

“Reggie? “

You wanted to go see him so badly. You were pretty sure it was your brother but it all came too fast. The moment you decided to walk towards them, the organizer announced a new band.

“Okay, looks like we're close the night out with one more group…Julie and the fat ones.”

What was that for a name? Your attention had been diverted and when you looked back at the group, the boys had disappeared as one of the young girls took the stage. Your heart was beating so fast. You couldn't go wrong; you had seen so many pictures at your mother's house that it was impossible that this boy was not your brother. But you missed your chance…

Julie started to sing and your eyes were captivated, as much as your ears were. This kid was so talented! When she sang a rather high note, the tension in the room charged into electricity. The next second, the young singer was joined by the group of boys you had seen in her company. Appearing distinctly as the ghosts did. On drums there was the blond boy you had seen dancing a few moments earlier, on the electric guitar, a boy with tousled brown hair who seemed slightly familiar to you ... and on bass, with a flannel shirt, there was your brother ... Reggie was there, identical to the photos you had admired so much.

The bar was on fire as Julie and The Phantoms performed. What a sick name for a group made up of two-thirds of ghosts! The song was so catchy that your heart beat to the sound of the music. But your eyes did not leave your brother, you were unable to move, frozen in place. What should you do ? Will you introduce yourself after the performance? And, what would you say? "Hey hi Reggie, I'm your sister, I died ten years ago and you twenty-five years ago. Unbelievable, right?! Nice to see you again" And once again, before you knew it, the song was over and the boys were gone again, leaving Julie alone on stage in the bewilderment of the many people in the facility.

“for God's sake, where are they?”

You didn't want to miss it anymore. Even though the whole situation was strange, you wanted to see your brother again.

Your eyes flew over the room before seeing the scene play out before your eyes. Julie seemed petrified in front of a man. The boys watched in amazement and as Julie left with what appeared to be her father, you rushed over to the group of three musicians before they disappeared again.

“omg please don't poof out again.” You said almost out of breath

The boys looked at you like you were crazy before the guitarist jumped off the bar counter, bursting with energy.

"Wait, you can see us?"

“as much as when mister "all eyes on me" made his performance”, you were pointing your head at the blond boy.

The group looked at each other in puzzlement and Reggie finally spoke, his blue eyes full of mischief.

“So…hi there cutie, how can we help you?”

Your face expressed disgust and you stuck your tongue out mimicking vomiting.

Luke gave Alex an amused smile, seeing Reggie flirting and your spontaneous reaction. The bassist couldn't help but charm the pretty ladies.

“Wow Reggie, that's gross ... you're my brother.”

Reggie burst out laughing at your response, not noticing that you called him by his first name when he hadn't even introduced himself to you yet.

“Yeah right, for sure. You just could tell me you weren’t interested. But I’m charming...”

It was the first time he had been given such an excuse but you looked so serious that he stopped dead in his tracks as Luke and Alex watched you. They always knew Reggie had a sister. But the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed impossible. (Y / N) was so young when they died and now must have been around 28, something like that. But the girl in front of them was a teenager, their age. How was this possible?

You didn't want to drop the information like that. It was worse than anything you could have imagined. But it had escaped you. Now he didn't take you seriously. Your eyes were wet with tears. It was scary to find you in front of your brother for the first time as a ghost teenager. Luke looked panicked when he noticed your eyes, squeezing Reggie's shoulder as you seemed to beg.

“Can I ... can I meet you in a quieter time please, Reginald?”

Your brother's eyes widened as Luke's hug on his shoulder tightened a bit. The eagerness and desperation in your voice had made both boys react, Alex was just looking at all of you like all of this wasn't real. The use of Reggie's name made him tense, surprised. Few called him Reginald. In fact, only his family, and the boys when they wanted to annoy him, called him that way. And although his nickname is obvious enough to deduce his

full first name, he deeply felt that you weren't just anyone.

He seemed a little panicked and looked around for his friends to support him. As if the solution would fall by itself just by the presence of Luke and Alex.

“Okay, but I want Luke and Alex’s there! What about tomorrow? I’ll give you the address!”

Wow, that was quick.

“hm, yeah, yeah sure, as you want”

You nodded and Reggie silently slipped a note to the drummer. Alex took a pen, write something on a paper towel and gave it to you. You weren’t surprise, you also can make some tricks. And you just had the time to thanks them before they poofted again.

…

The next day, you landed in front of Julie's garage. Lucky she's at school because you shouldn't be explaining your presence, so she managed to see you the way she saw boys.

Before entering, you peeked out the window and frowned. There seemed to be only Luke so far. He was leaning over the piano, his head in a notebook. Your body went through part of the garage door and you cleared your throat.

“hmm, hi ... i came to see Reggie ..”

Luke instantly raised his head and you caught his attention.

“oh uh, hi! He should be here soon, come in.….”

Silence felt as Luke motioned for you to sit on the couch. It was a rather pleasant studio; the plants gave a warm atmosphere to the room and the music set sent you good vibes.

"Does your girlfriend mind that I'm here? I mean, that seems to be your HQ"

"girlfriend?"

"The girl you sing with" I simply said.

"Julie? Um, yeah, she's not my girlfriend. She-sh-she’s great and we have this powerful connection but…not, not in a romantic way. Music tied us. Music and friendship "

Luke chuckled lightly as he scratched his head. You were surprised they weren't dating. Yesterday the tension was intense. He seemed authentic when he had continued his momentum. You let out a smile amused by so much overflow.

“It's okay, I don't need to know your full relationship statute or your social security number.”

The guitarist gave you a frank smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. For a ghost, his gaze was really alive.

“ I’m Luke, by the way”

"Y / N… Re .."

"Reggie's little sister… I-I remember you a little."

"You look familiar to me. Maybe I saw you in a few pictures with Reggie."

Silence fell and you started to feel anxious. Maybe it was a bad idea? You had grown up since Reggie died ... were you still his little sister after all? Luke seemed to notice your dismay and put a comforting hand on your knee.

“hey, is something bothering you?”

“What if he doesn't believe me ... if he definitely thinks I'm not his sister.”

“Let's be honest, it's a little hard to believe. The last time I saw you, you were three years old.”

It was as if the memories flooded into your mind and let you carried away in your words.

“Yeah, you gave me this teddy bear with a guitar and told Reggie you wanted to be my favorite.”

Luke chuckled slightly before staring at you, speechless. He seemed dazed. This anecdote dates back to twenty-five years anyway. He himself had a hard time remembering it until you said it a few seconds earlier.

“what was the smell of the stuffed animal?” he asked, confused about that funny fact

“sorry, what?”

“the plush, what did it smell like?”

“hot waffle, why?”

“okay ... maybe you are his sister ... tell me more about what you remember”

You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Everything had been so natural before he stopped in all the movements. And now, it was hard to think about for the memories you had of Reggie on demand. The teddy bear given by Luke story had slipped out of your mind without you realizing it. As your brain seemed to boil, the fog of your thoughts cleared.

“can I use your guitar?”

“hell no ... why?” Luke exclaimed with far too much anticipation

“I have this lullaby stuck inside of my head ... I think Reggie sang it to me when I was a child”

Your pleading and desperate gaze fell on Luke who categorically refused to let you take his guitar. He ends up grabbing his six acoustic strings, terminated. There was something about you that made him weak.

“Maybe you can teach me but ... my guitar is my guitar, nobody touches it.”

You nodded and the lead singer moved closer to you. You were stunned by its smell, like a distant memory. Luke had definitely been a part of your life before he died, you were sure of that. You leaned over her shoulder, humming the lullaby that was left in your head. It didn't take long for him to find the right chords. Luke continued several times before you stopped singing, looking at him intently.

“that's exactly it ... this lullaby”

You both looked at each other, an indecipherable expression in your eyes. You both jumped at the sound of the garage door. Reggie appeared with Alex.

"Ready to compose hellish songs! oh did I interrupt something?”

"No, no I was there to see you. I guess you have a lot of questions."

"hell yeah, can we start from the beginning?"

You smiled to approve his request. The boys settled down on the sofa, while you sat down on one of the single armchairs. And the flow of questions began

“When are you born?”

“(your birthday date) 1992” you simply answered.

“What’s your name?”

(y/n) (y/m/n) Peters

It’s seemed to convinced a little Reggie but doubt was all over his face. It was information you could easily get on the internet nowadays.

“What’s my favorite food?”

“Pizza, mom said your favorite was the extra cheese with pepperoni”

“And what was my favorite toy?”

“I freaking don’t know, how can I suppose to known that?”

“ah ah!” he pointed the finger at you, as if that answer was proof that you were lying. It broke your heart but you didn't show it.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and Reggie kept going to ask you some question. Of course, you would have liked to have answered his questions correctly. Your mother told you some anecdotes about him but not to the point of knowing all the details.

“What’s the most terrible thing I said to my mom?”

“Omg I don’t fucking know! I was 3 when you’re died, asshole!”

Luke smiled when you exploded. Reggie was Reggie, as weird as possible. Now you were angry and desperate. Your brother didn’t believe you and he kept dragging you into this miserable feeling that you were never going to get your brother back. You had spent your short life living with a faint memory of him. Your blankie was one of his t-shirts, his voice reasoned in your head when you couldn’t sleep.

But then, in front of him, you were a stranger to him. Your heart was bruised from not being able to hug him and to finally meet this brother who had left far too soon.

“Okay, okay… So, how can you proof me you’re really my sister?! “

In the room’s corner, Luke looked at you, you looked desperate, about to cry again. He grabbed his guitar and cleared his throat. Reggie turned to him as the guitarist still had his eyes on you, a heartwarming smile hanging across his face. You had managed to convince him in a few minutes. He felt connected to you and the things you told him were disturbing. You could only be Reggie's sister; it was impossible otherwise.

"Hey…What about the song you told me earlier." he said with a soft and comfort voice

Your eyes caught his gaze, grateful for the initiative. You nodded and Luke started playing the few notes you had taught him a few minutes earlier. It was so different from all the songs the brunette could play before. It was a lullaby, such easy children's music with just a few notes. Of course, the band wasn’t supposed to play when Julie wasn’t in the room but, Luke had thought it was the best thing to do to encourage you to keep going. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Reggie to believe you. Luke believed you, hard as nails. There only had to look at your eyes to understand this reality, and Luke had noticed that. You had the same blue eyes as your brother. How could Reggie still doubt that? You started to sing

You're so sleepy

Very much sleepy

You want to go to the fairyland

You close your eyes

And jump into your dream.

When you'll wake up

I’ll still be on your team.

The instant Reggie heard the first notes, he knew. But hearing you sing the lullaby he had invented for you when you didn't want to sleep as a child, was a magical moment. You were his baby sister. He gave you that sad little puppy face, so overwhelmed. Reggie opened his arms and you jumped into a hug, so glad he finally accepted the fact that you were his sister.

You felt oddly safe again, like taking a nap in Reggie's pile of old t-shirts. You were so happy to find your brother and to be able to live your non-life by his side. Nothing would be as boring as it used to be. Reggie pushed you away with a concerned look

"but wait ... how did you die?"

"Yeah ... I don't really know ... I was at a really, really good rock concert and I bought this drink ... and I think I got drugged up there and ... I guess I'm dead? tadaa " you tried to tell him in a light tone.

He had just learned that he had a little sister. He didn't have to know that she was sneaking out at rock concerts and drinking alcohol before she was old enough. Right? Alex looked at Luke and Reggie with his half amused half confused smile. As for Luke, he fidgeted from foot to foot at the discovery. Y / N was as much rock and roll as they all were. Rebellion had to be his middle name

You loosened Reggie's embrace and lowered your head, pursing your lips so as not to show your embarrassment. He asked if you wanted snacks and you nodded. There was a slight silence. You didn't notice the urgent look Luke gave Alex but the next moment the blond jumped up to accompany the bassist, leaving you alone in the garage with the lead singer.

The silences were a little longer until Luke cautiously approached you. You could feel the awkwardness from miles away.

“ Sooo, you made this.”

“ yeah ...” you answered in a shy voice

It was the moment you had to thank him but your words seemed frozen. You mustered all the courage to plant your gaze in Luke's eyes.

“Thank you ... for helping me earlier.”

“oh it was nothing”.

“I ... yes, yes it was. You can't imagine how important seeing Reggie again is to me. Thanks for ... for helping me open his eyes.”

A slight smile caught his lips and he reached for your cheek before stopping his gesture. Instead of stroking your skin, he simply put a section of your hair back behind your ear.

“I would do anything for my best friends.”

And Reggie was definitely one of Luke’s best friend. You hardly swallowed, your stomach contorting under the effect that the guitarist made you. Time had seemed to fly at an incredible speed as the moment was interrupted by Reggie and Alex coming back to you.

“OMG LUKE DON’T FLIRT WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S 3!”

You cleared your throat and stepped aside to pull yourself away from Luke as far as possible. Your gaze fell on your brother and you raised an eyebrow at the last remark. 3 years old, really? You were 3 years old twenty-five years ago ... now you were eternally a teenager

“I’m seventeen.”

“Listen, i'm your big brother, you’re three, end of discussion.”

Your face wanted to laugh and you pursed your lips to keep from succumbing. But your eyes… Your eyes met Luke's in a complicity that slowly settled. Could you fall in love with your big brother's best friend? Definitely yes...

#jatp #jatp cast #jatp cast x reader #jatp imagines #jatp fic #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #reggie x reader #reggie peters x reader #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #writing #owen patrick joyner #madison reyes

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 3 years

Text

Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)

(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)

Words: 4,028

Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)

-----

(1983)

"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.

They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...

"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"

Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.

"That was out of your control, mate."

"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"

"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.

"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.

"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"

Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."

"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"

"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.

"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"

"Sav!"

"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"

A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.

"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.

Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.

"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."

~(5 hours earlier)~

A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.

Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"

The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.

You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."

"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"

That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.

"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.

He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.

"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."

You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."

He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."

He fell quiet.

"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.

"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."

He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.

Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"

"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.

"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."

His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.

"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.

"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."

"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"

"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.

Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.

"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."

Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.

"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."

You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"

"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"

"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."

Joe quietly whined at your declaration.

"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."

The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.

His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"

"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."

"Great. This means she's stronger than me."

You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"

Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."

It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.

"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"

Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.

He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."

The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.

Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.

It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.

When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.

The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.

Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.

"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.

Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).

"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"

"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."

"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."

The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.

"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"

Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.

You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.

"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."

***

"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."

"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."

Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.

"What on earth makes you say that?"

"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."

*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.

This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.

To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.

Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.

Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.

That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.

It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.

Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.

Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.

*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."

"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"

"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.

Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.

"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.

"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"

Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.

"She did, didn't she..."

"She definitely did."

Sav was smirking at him now.

Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"

"There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."

Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.

"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."

Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.

They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.

"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"

Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.

"That's entirely up to you."

*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.

After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.

Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.

Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.

Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.

Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.

The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.

"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"

It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.

Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.

"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.

"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."

Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.

"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."

"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."

"Not you, apparently."

Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.

You wanted to be affectionate with him.

Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"

"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."

Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.

"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."

You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.

"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"

"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."

Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.

"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."

"What did I do?"

The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.

"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."

"I told you not to worry about it..."

"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."

"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."

Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed.

"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."

"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."

"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."

You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."

Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.

The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.

"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."

A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.

You glanced over, "What?"

With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."

"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.

"If it means getting even with you, then yes."

"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"

"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."

That answer was more than enough for you.

Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.

The end

#this took me exactly 359 days to 100% complete g__g #another very rare occurrence where a fic isn't based off a song or has the title stolen from a song #unfortunately the next fic is going to break that streak hah :3D #def leppard #joe elliott #def leppard fanfiction #joe elliott x reader #def leppard x reader #original content #rick savage #sav is a perfect mediator I'm sorry I have him in that role all the damn time orgiwroimvwr #everyone is a dumbass and sav is the keeper of dumbasses #I also spent nearly 4 hours making that moodboard i hope you're happy g_g #I just recycle the same boring joe birthday post every year bc I don't have any ideas nor do I have any resources in order to make-#-something different and/or better

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secretswansong · 3 years

Text

my parents (and me by extension because whenever they watch something i'm remotely interested in i cannot keep away) have been watching the good doctor again and we're halfway through season 1 and hoo boy it is not the good autism representation i thought it was 4 years ago thanks to college where the fuck do i start

like the moment they said the definition of autism as a "mental condition" i was like "uhhh hold up it's a neurodevelopmental condition" putting the rest under the cut because it's more word vomit (for just the first 10 episodes) than i expected

the ableism is pretty much everywhere and i don't mean just how the other characters undermined and disrespected shaun early on

where are all the other neurodivergent people oh my god where is ASAN where are the autism support and advocacy groups where are the occupational, physical, and speech therapists it's a tertiary hospital with 3D printers for fuck's sake

so far the only other autistic character is this one patient and i also felt so weird at how him being fine with the lights on in the end of the episode looked like some sort of character development complete with bg music????? like yes okay some kids might be like that but it's probably also a sensory processing issue and i don't see that being mentioned or addressed within the episode????? but the parents are great

also okay they just hire shaun without reading up on autism or talking to him to learn more about his condition and his experiences, to understand him, to understand that other autistic people aren't the same as him, or at least find out if he needs any accommodations???? idk their whole system but they should've had that conversation

also UGH glassman's reasons for why shaun needs a therapist like for social interaction??? i liked how supportive he was until he was like "you gotta learn how to get along with people better" or "you gotta take care of yourself" when before you were like "he's high functioning" and you were telling the other doctors to give him a chance??? we can see that shaun's independent and takes good care of himself and it's his work environment that has to change even if and especially because it's a hospital. also given that he doesn't want to see the therapist umm how about getting acquainted with the other people in his apartment community and oh look his neighbor's nice to him oh they're friendly to each other look LEA IS RIGHT THERE

the environment/system isn't modified for him, the other characters still treat him like he's neurotypical. like i said the ableism is everywhere

yes yes this is just season 1 they've got many more episodes to improve but several patients/cases post hiring shaun they haven't made any actual effort to understand and accommodate for his autism (why??? not dramatic enough???) so in this regard the prognosis isn't good

melendez questions why they chose a boy with a heart he can't fix but not why they'd screen that kid and 99 others who all need life-saving surgery???? like i guess that "humanitarian program" really is a thing but isn't that just a little fucked up

and claire oh i like claire so UGH why does her character get treated like shit how come she gets the mean racist patient? is she going to always get mean patients and shitty superiors while the guys don't? also melendez didn't believe that she came up with the femur replacement. but claire and melendez have good chemistry and i ship them already ugh. anyway god bless her she's doing the best she can

lea is great with shaun all around she could help him and provide support the way glassman thinks a therapist could help shaun i mean yeah she does need to study up but still she's great

although yeah with what we get about shaun's trauma and backstory that's what he needs a therapist for

the one thing i liked about shaun having nurse fryday (?) as a boss for 1 day is how important nurses are! especially older nurses who've worked in the same hospital for many years, dealt with multiple batches of interns, residents, consultants etc.??? they've seen things and they'd definitely know more than med students and residents. yes these doctors will gain more experience and expertise but the nurses are RIGHT THERE

anyway i'm gonna complain about the ableism again like i guess they had shaun deferring to nurse fryday as early as episode 2 but they couldn't have the other doctors research about autism, get resources, speak to shaun and other autistic and neurodivergent people, speak with ASAN they should've been doing these ever since hiring shaun he deserves so much better

will i keep watching? yeah i like shaun, claire, and lea too much god bless these three characters

#welp looks like i'm gonna scroll through related posts for the next few hours #cw: ableism #the good doctor #rant #writing #criticism #autism #neurodivergence #representation #also i am once again saying #fuck autism speaks #akin

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gothpanda · 2 years

Text

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch. 40: Memories

WORD COUNT: 8.2K

A/N: Hello! This is the end! Or at least I think? This is my first ever chaptered fic and I don't know how to properly end things. I'm scared I'll come back to do an epiloge just for the sake of coming back. But I know it must come to an end. Thank you everyone whose read the story while I wrote it out. And thank you to whoever reads this long after I've completed it. :)

TAGS: @nosebleedblitz @emariehorror @madamsixx

WARNINGS: none

Read On Ao3

September 23rd, 1988

Los Angles, California

Cars drove up and down the busy streets of downtown Los Angeles throughout the day as people reached work or school. People follow their designated schedules to be at a particular place at a specific time. Except in other cases, the people didn't follow those schedules and left others to wait for God knows how long for some kind of news. Once again, one of those people just happened to be Vince for what felt like the millionth time. In an occupied recording studio, engineers messed with their workstation to pass the time while glancing at 3/4th of Motley Crue inside the large booth, waiting for their singer to come around.

Nikki sat on the carpeted floor, in front of a wooden coffee table that became covered with everything he needed to make a photo album. Photos from years ago were scattered alongside cut pieces of colorful paper, sharpie markers, and glue sticks for decoration. With an intense frown and firmly pressed lips, Nikki concentrated on the picture in his hand, debating on where to put it would look best in the album. After some time of absolute silence from Nikki's end, Mick and Tommy towered over him with looks of confusion as they stared at everything. Nikki almost didn't notice until hearing Mick clearing his throat made his head look up.

"Uhm, what are you doing, Nik? You've had your nose towards the table since we got here," asked Mick.

"And not like old times. Why do you have all this stuff?" asked Tommy, sitting on the sofa behind Nikki. He reached over Nikki and grabbed a random handful of photos only to let out a soft gasp. A smile crept on Tommy's lips, going through the images of even his past. Nikki looked over his shoulder, smirking as he looked up at Tommy.

"Found something, T-Bone?" asked Nikki.

"Where the hell did you get these?" eagerly asked Tommy again.

"Your little sister. I found a box of film with old cameras in her apartment, and I thought they should get developed," said Nikki, resuming to glue photos in their perfect spots. Mick

grabbed his own stack to skim through, getting a soft smile as he sat down on the soda as well.

"These are so old, dude!"

"I understand getting old film developed to look back on memories, but what's with the whole craft project part of it?" asked Mick. Nikki sighed, labeling and gluing down what he thought looked suitable for the album.

"Because I'm starting to get incredibly bored and music can only do so much," said Nikki, glancing at his bandmates.

"Bored?" asked Mick.

"There wasn't anything to do while Sammi's at work and then I found this. I just wanted to surprise her and then it snowballed into a whole birthday present,"

"Wow, aren't you getting soft?" teased Tommy. Nikki glared at his terror twin, flipping him off with some affection. "I mean it! It's nice that you're making something sentimental for Sam. Not all of us can think of these things," reassured Tommy, dropping the stack of photos back on the table.

"Thanks. I hope she likes it when I give it to her,"

"If you're bored doing nothing, how come you don't get into photography with Sammi?" pointed out Mick. Nikki looked at Mick in a pondering thought, eyebrows creating deep elevens.

"Mick has a point, Nik. Since you and Sammi are so in love, you two can bond over that. I know Heather badgers me about bonding to 'grow' our relationship," said Tommy. Nikki only shrugged at the idea, continuing to work on the photo album as it seemed that was the only type of work he would be doing today.

"Guys, Vince just pulled into the building. I don't know if you want to talk to him before we begin?" asked the sound engineer. The men all glanced at each other in the form of communication. They waited for who would be the leader to respond. Of course, they all knew it was going to be Nikki.

"Yeah, just give us ten minutes," said Nikki. The sound engineer nodded towards the band and walked out from their side of the studio into the hallway. No one moved from their spots as they waited for Vince to walk through the double doors of the booth. It reminded Nikki of when Sammi and Sabrina caught them high, with Vince visibly angry. Nikki chuckled at the irony of being responsible and completely sober, unlike someone who should be. As Vince walked into the sound booth, he scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion when seeing two of his bandmates surrounding Nikki. The closer Vince got to the table, he could see the photos scattered out, only paying attention to the ones solely of Sammi.

"What the hell's going on here?" Vince asked indirectly to Nikki.

"You'd know if you were on time for once in your life," sarcastically said Mick. Vince mockingly chuckles.

"I'm not that late," objected Vince.

"Recordings were support to start thirty minutes ago," said Nikki, eyes still glued down at the album. Vince rolled his eyes in response.

"Nikki's making a photo album for Sammi's birthday," said Tommy, leaning on his knees as he watched Nikki create this piece of work. Vince raised a single eyebrow with a mischievous smirk upon his lips.

"Did you find any of Sam and me in those old photos?" asked Vince. Nikki didn't think to answer Vince but instead lifted his head as he began to think with eyes shifting to the lonesome bag on his far left. Nikki stood up in silence and pulled the bag off its stool, rummaging through it. Finally, he pulled out a separate stack of photos tied with a rubber band around the middle.

"Thanks for reminding me, Vince. I found these in mixed in the final photos and thought you'd all like to keep them," said Nikki, releasing the rubber band and skimming through the thick stack. "Sammi took photos of everything over the years. There's a bunch of us alone or with the Princess," Nikki gave Mick and Tommy around 10 photos of them from times they couldn't even remember. All though he wouldn't say it out loud, Mick felt appreciative of Sammi's love for her friends, seeing the pleasant memories he seemed to forget. Once facing Vince, Nikki held out the rest of the photos from a distance, wanting to keep the same happy feeling going around. Vince didn't bother to move, arms crossed and eyes staring at the pictures in the others hand.

"Come on, Vince, it's nice to look back at old memories sometimes," said Nikki, arm still raised. Vince only glared at Nikki before turning his back, ignoring the kind gesture. Defeated, Nikki flared his nostrils in annoyance and shook his head as Vince moved across the studio as if nothing. "You're really going to be like that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Why would I want photos from Sammi?" asked Vince with venom in his voice.

"Because she took fun pictures of us to look back on and try to remember. Come see when you were pleasant to be around!"

"Oh, I'm not fun anymore? I wonder why," spat Vince

"Could you tell us please because I'm wondering as well?" budded in Tommy.

"Maybe because he has to sneak behind everyone's back for a sip of whiskey," mumbled Nikki, putting the remaining photos back in his bag. Mick and Tommy faced Vince with raised eyebrows in silence to sound almost disappointed. Vince only cursed to himself as he looked away from his friends.

"Of course, she told you,"

"You thought she'd keep it to herself? After yelling at her about the shit hole you dug up for yourself?" asked Nikki, raising his voice.

"I didn't yell at-"

"Do not try to lie and make yourself look better, Vince. I thought having Sammi talk to you would be a good idea. She wanted to reach out as a friend after hearing why our asses came back home. But no, you decided to be a dick!" said Nikki.

"I don't want Sammi in my business! I don't even want you guys in it! I'm just here to do my job,"

"Job?! You don't even do that! You're either late or do the bare minimum when you are on time," argued Nikki. Arguments like these between the singer and bassist could go on for hours, but after learning life's lessons, someone knew to stop it. Mick tried to stand up from the sofa with all his strength, feeling the heavyweight in his bones. Then, with enough confidence, the oldest walked right in the middle of the yelling men, gently pushing some distance between them.

"Enough! We're already behind on schedule, and I'm sure the ten minutes are almost up. You two can fight a different day when I'm not around," said Mick. Nikki and Vince glared at each other before simultaneously huffing and splitting apart to their own spots in the studio. Nikki yanked his bag off the stool and carefully gathered what was laid out on the table as he heard the sound engineer and now Doc come back in.

"Hey, Tommy, can I ask you for a favor?" whispered Nikki, looking over his shoulder if Vince could hear him.

"Sure, man, what's up?" asked Tommy as he grabbed his drumsticks.

"I don't want Sammi to get curious about what's in here when I get home, so could you keep the bag safe for me? I'll pick it up when Sammi's at work tomorrow,"

"Oh, don't worry, the album's safe with me!" proudly said Tommy. "If you want, you could work on it at the house, and I'll help out. Heather should be out the whole day,"

"That would be awesome. I really appreciated it, T-Bone," said Nikki, swinging an arm around Tommy's shoulders.

"Hey anything for my brother-in-law,"

"Oh, you're so sure I'm going to be your brother-in-law?" asked Nikki with a playful smile.

"You've already been for quick some time, my dude," smiled Tommy, sitting right behind his drum set.

When Nikki unlocked the door of the now shared apartment, the smell of a lasagna welcomed the musician home, as well as the sight of Sammi on the sofa, watching something interesting from what he could hear. Nikki smiled to himself while slipping off his shoes in the corner.

"Hello, my love!" said Nikki, jumping down to the empty spot next to Sammi, wrapping a loving arm around her shoulders. Sammi couldn't help but let out a giggle, her hair lightly flying up from the sudden movement and taking hold of Nikki's hand. Sammi kissed Nikki on the cheek, relaxing comfortably by his side.

"Hello! Aren't you happy to be home?" teased Sammi.

"What's not to be happy about? A good day at the office and now I get to relax with my lady with some dinner,"

"You really didn't have any issues at the studio?"

Nikki only shook his head, paying attention to what was on the TV to distract from the question. Sammi had her ears locked on the news channel's recap of a trial case from earlier in the day.

"How was your day? No trouble at the hospital?"

"Somewhat hectic with patients and making sure everything is done on time. But at least I got home in time for the news to start!"

"Yeah, just for to watch that freak Ramirez pretend to be innocent in front of all the cameras,"

News cameras followed the defendant as he moved through the courtroom towards his seat. The courtroom appeared filled with other news reporters who wanted to get every detail the judge or lawyers would say, primarily if the defendant acted out in any way.

"He can pretend all he wants, here's no way his ass isn't getting life in prison. Or worse the death penalty,"

"I just don't get how he's bringing in all those women. The man manages to have groupies show up at his trial,"

"Now that you mention it, there is a chance some of those girls tried to get with you from the looks of them," teased Sammi, pointing out a blonde woman in the stands dressed in all leather.

"Please don't put that in my head after leaving my groupie days behind me," groaned Nikki as he rolled his eyes.

"What? You don't want to admit to having some questionable taste?" continued Sammi, nudging her elbow into Nikki's side.

"I believe out of the both of us, you're the one whose taste is pretty questionable," smirked Nikki. Sammi scrunched her eyebrows together with a frown.

"Did you just insult yourself?"

"Yes, I did. Anyways! Do you happen to know what's coming up soon?" asked Nikki quickly before Sammi had anything else to add. Sammi pursed out her lips in thought, trying to think the coming days ahead.

"Today's Friday. I don't remember planning anything for the weekend. I work all next week so I can't think of anything," said Sammi.

"Okay, let me give you a hint. It's one of your parents' proudest moments," Sammi broke into a chuckle as Nikki also smiled at Sammi, finally getting his clues, wrapping the tips of her hair around his finger.

"My birthday isn't for another two weeks, Nik,"

"Yeah, but it's good to plan ahead of time for a celebration so great. Is there any gift ideas in that little brain of yours?"

"How could I think of a gift if I can't even think of my birthday. A 7 to 5 takes up way too much space in my brain," complained Sammi.

"Not even the smallest thought of wanting something right now?" bugged Nikki. Sammi shook her head, dropping it back against the sofa with a sigh.

"You know what, you can surprise me with whatever you want. Do whatever you want and buy me whatever you- except a house or car- for my birthday. How about that?" smiled Sammi. Nikki's eyebrows shot up with glee, smirking as the wheels began to turn in his head.

"In that case, I'm going to have a nice chat with Athena and Tommy tomorrow. Maybe debate on if we should get a stripper or two," teased Nikki, only to get smacked in the chest by Sammi. "I'm kidding!" Nikki chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around Sammi, pulling her into a hug. Before Sammi could say anything, the timer on the kitchen counter rang out to alert the lasagna was done cooking. Nikki took the chance and launched himself off the sofa, heading straight towards the oven before Sammi could even register the sound of the timer going off.

"I could've gotten it, Nikki," said Sammi as Nikki took out the hot tray off of food, leaning against the kitchen bar. Nikki only shrugged his shoulders with a smug little smile on his lips, ready to grab plates from the cabinet. Before Nikki could take another step, Sammi reached out for Nikki's arm, tugging him close into a loving kiss. "You're sweet,"

"Thanks. Someone helped me with that," said Nikki, nipping Sammi's chin and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "You get the drinks and I'll serve this up,"

"Sir, yes, sir," shouted Sammi, saluting Nikki as she marched to the cabinet, pulling out two glasses, one for soda and the other for lemonade in the fridge.

October 1st

North Hollywood

The closet door opened from the spare bedroom slowly turned into an office for both Nikki and Sammi. But with now two people in an apartment together, a mess of boxes, suitcases, and other random things started to accumulate within the spare room. All by herself, Sammi chucked a carry-on bag to the top shelf of the closet, fixing it neatly to add a box labeled journals from Nikki right after. When reaching for another one of Nikki's boxes, Sammi knocked down a standing suitcase with her leg, the luggage falling with a soft thump. Sammi mumbled a 'dammit' as she put the box in the closet, then grabbed onto the handle to lift the light suitcase.

As she was putting away the suitcase in the closet, Sammi could hear the sound of something rattle inside from the slight movement. Sammi shook the suitcase with more force to listen to the rattle more clearly with a confused frown on her face. She knew the bag was one Nikki and her shared but knew they took everything out after a trip. Sammi kneeled to the ground as she unzipped the suitcase, revealing a relatively thick blue book by itself with a small photo of Sammi's face. The photo album. She didn't let her curiosity get the best of her as Sammi only examined the front and back cover of the album, touching the decorative felt. The sound of the front door unlocking stopped Sammi from almost taking her first peek inside the album.

"Babe, I'm back! The line at Davey's was freaking ridiculous, but I have the bagels and coffee," yelled Nikki from the front of the apartment, locking the door behind him. Sammi rose from the ground with the album close to her side as she left the spare bedroom. Nikki paid no attention when he heard Sammi's footsteps come towards the kitchen, back turned while grabbing their food from the paper bag.

"Hey, Love, what's this album doing in your suitcase?" asked Sammi, holding up the album as Nikki faced her. Nikki's relaxed and clueless smile turned into a frozen frown, darting his eyes between Sammi and the album. A cough only came from Nikki to clear his throat, staying silent. "Nik?"

"Did you open that?" asked Nikki.

"You still didn't answer my question," said Sammi, grazing her fingers between the pages, ready to look at a random page of what was inside.

"No! Please. Don't," sighed Nikki in an almost defeat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's your birthday present that I've been working on," Sammi's eyes opened wide as her eyebrows rose fast.

"Oh! Wait? What?" asked Sammi, confused.

"I got the idea to make you a photo album awhile back. I was going to give it to you this Saturday all wrapped up, but I guess not,"

"But when did you start doing this? I hadn't seen you do any sneaking around since you've been back,"

"That's because I have the help of your work schedule. One of the days I was bored and home alone, I found all of your old cameras with either film still in them or in the casings," said Nikki, walking over to Sammi, where he then grabbed the album to admire his work. "There were some photos I found from before we even met and when we were just friends,"

"I promise to you, Nikki, I didn't open it at all. I thought it was something Tommy had given to you from my mom,"

"Well, he did hide it for me so this exact moment wouldn't happen,"

"Love, I'm sorry I ruined the surprise. How about you put it somewhere where you know I won't find it and I'll wait 'til my birthday like you wanted,"

"That's a nice idea, Princess, but I think it's little unfair to deprive you of your birthday," smiled Nikki.

"Did you at least get to finish it?" pouted Sammi.

"To my own surprise, I did. There were a lot of photos to go through and not enough room. I'll get the coffee while you go open your gift," said Nikki as he kissed Sammi on the forehead and reached for the two paper cups of coffee while Sammi dropped herself on the sofa, waiting. Sammi smiled down at the album in her lap, hands caressing the felt fabric covering the front and back. Then, right when Nikki sat beside her, Sammi opened the book to the first page of a short-written letter.

Happy birthday, Princess. I love you. I appreciate you more and more with each day that passes. This photo album was something I wanted to make for you, to look back on all the good times you've captured from your life.

The flip of a page was all it took for Sammi to gasp in awe from Nikki's present.

"Oh my gosh, is that-?"

"A sixteen-year-old Sammi?"

"Damn. I guess I'm not the best photographer if you found film this old,"

"It made it out alive in the end though,"

Sammi smiled down at the photo album in her lap, grazing her fingers on every single detail written in Nikki's handwriting.

"You really sat down, labeled, and decorated on every single page. Nikki, this is so sweet!"

"Let's look through it before I get any well-deserved praise," said Nikki, turning the next page to be deeper into his creation.

October 9th, 1982

Portland, Oregon

"Smile!" yelled the tour roadie, pointing an old Canon camera at the motley-looking crew where the boys dressed back into their 'normal' clothes. Sammi held a tight grip around Mick's neck to keep him in the photo, leaning on his back while she sat on the top of the tattered sofa. Tommy and Nikki had laid across both Athena and Mick's lap, each with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a wide-tooth smile. On the other hand, Vince tried to keep his distance even while sitting closer beside Sammi on the sofa's base. Then, with their own versions of a smile, the group stayed still as the camera flash blinded them for a few seconds.

"Thank you," smiled Sammi, kissing Mick on the cheek, chuckling at his 'annoyed' grunt.

"You're lucky it's your birthday, Little Girl," said Mick, standing up to find another beer in the mess of people backstage. Sammi hopped off the sofa as the roadie gave her back the camera, looking around the room for something else to shoot.

"Get off of me, Tommy! You stick of sweat," complained Athena, pushing herself away from Tommy. Athena followed Mick to the other end of the space only to be distracted by the looks of a man she had never met. The Terror Twins didn't bother to move from the sofa; Nikki propped himself on one elbow to take a sip of the straight whiskey while Tommy laid straight on his back. When Sammi turned towards the couch, she looked at the two with glee, pointing the camera in their direction.

"Say cheese, Nik," said Sammi, capturing Nikki sticking out his tongue to Sammi, knowing it would make her giggle even if it was for a second.

"That's the money shot," declared Nikki, jumping up from the sofa, getting a dizzy spell right when he stood on his two feet. Vince paid no attention to his surrounding as the white powder he became friends with took effect, looking around the place with alcohol in his hand. Only a bright flash was able to snap Vince out of his thoughts, blinking to catch Sammi with her camera aimed at him.

"Sorry, Vince, you just looked nice sitting there. I just had to take a photo," said Sammi, putting the camera away in her messenger bag and stepping out into the hallway. Vince remained silent but with an unmistakable puppy love smile on his lips. From the deep corner, Nikki could see Vince's 'stupid' expression as Sammi left, taking this as his cue to follow her wherever she went. If Vince wasn't going to use his time to talk to Sammi, Nikki was most certainly going to take the time. Luckily, Nikki wasn't completely intoxicated like most nights, walking with a head held high through the backstage corridor towards the stage. It wasn't hard to find Sammi standing on the side of the main stage, watching the crowd go crazy for Kiss. Sneaking behind the short girl, Nikki placed his chin on the crown of Sammi's head, causing Sammi to reach above and touch the bassist's face.

"It's me, dumb-dumb," chuckled Nikki, stepping alongside Sammi.

"I'm just checking. You've could've been Tommy," smiled Sammi, shouting close to Nikki's ear.

"Your brother is dead asleep somehow in the back,"

"I don't blame him. I'm already tired and it's only been a day with you guys," with the change of a song from Kiss, Sammi walked back towards the corridor with Nikki in tow, leaning against the wall.

"But you're having fun, right?" asked Nikki.

"Yes, Nikki, I really am. It's a birthday for the books," smiled Sammi.

"If you want, we can walk down the street to find something to eat. I've hardly eaten anything all day," suggested Nikki.

"I can tell," teased Sammi, playfully poking Nikki right in the ribs to see him flinch. "But alright. Lead the way,"

Nikki offered an arm for Sammi, walking straight to the exit door without thinking of telling anyone where the two were going.

Nikki & Sammi didn't need to walk far from the stadium, finding themselves almost entirely alone in a 24-hour McDonald's. They sat across from one another at a table by the window, Sammi looking out the passing cars. Her attention was snapped back into the present after hearing Nikki speak.

"Huh?" Nikki chuckled with Sammi before getting a chance to swallow.

"I asked how's school. Are you getting sleepy on me, Princess?"

"No, I just spaced out for a second. I am pretty tired though," said Sammi, grabbing a fry from her plate.

"You can sleep on the plane. So, what's college like?" asked Nikki again.

"Why do you want to know so much?" Nikki just gave a shrug.

"I don't know, it just seems like an interesting place. I didn't finish high school to even try college,"

"It's hard beyond belief sometimes. I'm starting to question if I even want to a vet anymore. It's too many years, too much reading, too much money to become one,"

"Too many years? You sound as if you're already 30 and don't know anything for your life,"

"It feels like it sometimes," muttered Sammi.

'Shut. Up! You just turned nineteen yesterday. You'll be fine, now eat, or I'll drag your tired ass to a club again,"

Sammi followed Nikki's 'instructions' with a chuckled, taking a bite of her cheeseburger. As the two ate in comfortable silence, a question Sammi couldn't shake off popped into her mind.

"Hey Nik, speaking of clubs um… the kiss?" timidly asked Sammi. The question caught Nikki entirely off guard, coughing to clear his throat from almost choking on his food.

"What- What about it?" asked Nikki, covering his mouth as a form of hiding.

"I just want to make things clear between us & my siblings before I get furthered questioned. The kiss didn't mean anything, right?"

Nikki's breath hitched in his chest, looking out the window to almost prepare him for what he would say.

"Ye-yeah. The kiss meant nothing. I only did since it was your birthday & that was the only thing that popped in my head," stuttered Nikki, glancing at Sammi then down at the table.

"And that's what I thought! Plus, we weren't anywhere near sober, so it was all in good fun,"

"Exactly… all in good fun," mumbled Nikki, sipping his soda with his eyes laid low.

"Hey," said Sammi, lightly kicking Nikki under the table. Nikki flipped his hair to cover up his eyes, hiding away from the girl. "Let's take a photo together before we head out,"

"Only because it's your birthday, Princess," Nikki smirked, getting up from his seat to move beside Sammi. Sammi took the Canon out of her bag, setting it up while feeling Nikki's armrest behind her seat, before pointing at themselves. But, unbeknownst to Sammi, she would be the only one giving a genuine smile.

September 29th, 1983

San Fernando Valley

Smoke in the air wafted throughout the two-story house. A mess of people gathered in every corner of the house, dancing or talking. Music blasted so loud; it could be heard almost perfectly outside. Sammi tried to walk throughout the house, squeezing herself past high or drunken people. It had been about 20 minutes since Sammi arrived at the house, but now she needed to find people she knew in the completely unknown place. As Sammi walked further into the house with fewer people and 'cleaner' air, her eyes caught a surprisingly familiar face unaware of her.

"You've got to be kidding me?" muttered Sammi to herself. Sammi walked closer to the familiar face standing against the wall alone, standing in front of them, still unaware. Sammi cleared their throat in emphasis to get their attention, flashing a fake smile.

"Hello, Princess," said Nikki, arms crossed and face stern.

"Well, hello, Jackass," replied Sammi, mimicking Nikki's same face. Nikki almost groaned at Sammi, dragging a hand through his hair as he rolled his eyes. "Fancy seeing you here,"

"I could say the same for you. What are you even doing all the way over here in The Valley?"

"Vince told Athena & I about this party. Now I have no idea where those idiots are," Sammi said with annoyance in her voice, looking back at the crowds of people. "What are you doing here?"

"A couple of guys Tom and I hang out with dragged me here. They're with some randoms for all I know," shrugged Nikki.

"Sound like great friends,"

"Yeah, they're the best…" mumbled Nikki.

A silence quickly grew between Nikki and Sammi, looking anywhere but each other. They didn't know who should speak up first after not seeing one another since they were fighting. Nikki was sober from any drugs at the moment, causing him to feel his emotions like an average person for once.

"I'm sorry," cracked Nikki. Sammi didn't bother to react to Nikki, only turning her head away from him even if she didn't want to move from the spot. "Sammi, can you please say anything?"

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Nikki. You know that," stated Sammi. Nikki dropped his head with a defeated sigh, and slouched shoulders, wishing the music was louder to drain his conscience that Sammi started to bring out in him.

"Can we just forget I ever touched that stupid chick?" begged Nikki. Sammi rolled her eyes, dragging a hand through her hair in disbelief.

"No! Not until you own up to your mistake,"

"Trust me, I know hooking up with Roxie was a mistake,"

"Then tell Tommy! It's already been two weeks since that video shoots and nothing!" shouted Sammi, casting a few heads turned in their direction. Nikki only glared at the strangers to make them go away. Nikki gently pulled Sammi closer to him, having her arm yanked away from his grasp. Sammi leaned against the wall with enough space as she scowled at the taller man.

"Sammi, I seriously don't have the heart to tell Tommy. I already feel like shit enough," whispered Nikki.

"You have a heart? I had no idea!" sarcastically said Sammi. Nikki narrowed his eyes at Sammi, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Are you just going to be a dick to me from now on?"

"Yep!" Sammi said with an enthusiastic smile.

"Even when you join the tour?" asked Nikki. Sammi averted her eyes away from Nikki's gaze, pressing her lips firmly together.

"I haven't made up my mind yet. So far, the answer is starting to look like a no even more,"

"You may act pissed off now, but I know you love hanging out with us more than your two stupid roommates," Sammi's eyes bulged open wide with a tight jaw and open mouth, scoffing at Nikki.

"You hardly know shit about me, Nikki, and don't act like you care either. Don't hold your breath on anything," bitterly said Sammi.

"Whatever, Princess. We'll see about that when December comes around," said Nikki, rolling his eyes.

"Will you stop calling me that?! You don't get to call me anything other than Sammi until you man up & take responsibility. And even then, just stop it entirely!" ordered Sammi, pointing a sharp finger at Nikki's chest.

"Fine, Sammi. Hope you find your sister soon," said Nikki, biting the inside of his cheek

"Fine," said Sammi, pushing herself off the walk to turn her back to Nikki until feeling a grasp on her arm. "What?"

"Are the birthday flowers off the table to until I man up?" smirked Nikki.

"You are so annoying," groaned Sammi, rolling her eyes as she finally walked away from Nikki. She gave a final glance back to Nikki from a safe distance, a subtle sting in her chest when catching him completely alone. Digging into her messenger bag, Sammi pulled out her old Canon that she decided to bring, setting it up before taking a photo of an unaware Nikki. Sammi then put the camera away, stepping outside to finally see Vince standing by a keg with a clear solo cup in one hand.

"There you are! Athena just went to the restroom to find you!" said Vince, throwing one arm around Sammi giving her his beer. Sammi stayed silent with a 'happy' smile on.

August 9th, 1984

Downtown Los Angeles

"Are you sure the band's okay with us crashing their practice?" asked Emma. In Elektra's new recording studios shared with other record labels, Sammi led her two new friends to the end of the hallway, looking down at her new camera in her hands. "Sam?" asked Emma again, finally getting Sammi's attention.

"Oh yeah they'll be cool with it. Plus, it's not crashing if I asked my brother beforehand," said Sammi. Right as the girls reached the end of the hallway, they could hear the loud echo of laughter from Tommy in the big booth area of the studio. Sammi didn't bother to knock or cautiously peek inside before opening the door, walking right in as if she owned the place, happy then confused to only see three members of Motley with their instruments. Emma and Sabrina timidly followed Sammi, standing close behind their shorter friend. Tommy was the first to look in the girl's direction, his excited frame slouching once he set his eyes on the three girls.

"Hey guys, Sammi's here… with friends," said Tommy, walking toward his sister as he threw his drumsticks.

"You seem happy to see me," sarcastically said Sammi, pulling Tommy in for a side hug.

"Sorry, I thought you were Vince. He's late for the millionth time," complained Tommy. "You wouldn't happen to know where he is?"

"No, I haven't seen him since I left his place last night. How late is he?"

"An hour. Are you sure you don't know where you boyfriend is?" butted in Nikki, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked over to the order of the studio. From the stern and cold look on Nikki's face, it was clear as day the feelings in the studio, Sammi immediately wanting to fix it.

"Doesn't matter. Would you mind introducing us to these beautiful ladies right here?" asked Tommy with a flirty smile on his lips in front of Emma and Sabrina. Sammi couldn't resist rolling her eyes, playfully punching Tommy's shoulder as he gawked at her new friends.

"Tommy, Nik, this is Emma," Sammi gestured towards the olive-skinned brunette. "Who coincidently is from Covina. She was a grade below me in high school," Tommy's eyebrows shot up with curiosity, elbowing Nikki with discretion.

"Well, isn't a small world. I'll have you know I went to every swim team meet before I… left," said Tommy, grabbing softly onto Emma's hand.

"And if I remember correctly, you only went for the blondes every time before you 'left,'" jokingly said Emma, snatching her hand away from Tommy with a smirk when looking at Tommy's deflated face. Nikki couldn't help but chuckle at Tommy's lousy luck, already liking the stranger.

"And this is Sabrina. She recently moved to L.A from Sacramento," continued Sammi with the introductions.

"Hi," politely said Sabrina with a short wave and smile.

"That's Mick, over there, by the way. He's a man of a few words," said Tommy. Emma and Sabrina only waved at the silent man who only cared about his guitar.

"It's nice to meet you girls. Hopefully it goes better than last time," uttered Nikki to Sammi.

"Shut. It. Nikki," said Sammi through her teeth, walking toward Mick without his awareness. Then, Sammi pulled and pointed her camera at Mick from a slight distance, taking a photo that finally made the guitar player lookup with an intense frown on his face. "Hi, Mick!"

"What's with the photo, Little girl?" asked Mick.

"I wanted to take photos of your guy's practice. Also, you haven't noticed anybody since I walked in so had to get your attention somehow,"

"I don't remember hiring you to be the photographer," teased Nikki, ruffling Sammi's hair as he went back to the sofa next to Mick.

"It was a company decision by Mr. Harrison. We just forgot to tell you all," chimed in Sabrina, standing next to Sammi.

"And how do you know the CEO's name?" asked Nikki with a raised eyebrow.

"I intern here," chimed Sabrina. Nikki and Tommy looked almost impressed at Sabrina, looking at Emma, who now stood next to Sabrina.

"You're not going to tell us you're a secretary too?" asked Nikki. Emma and the girls chuckled at Nikki, sitting on the carpeted floor.

"No, all I do is swim and tag along for comedic relief," said Emma, leaning back on her elbows.

Like the boys, Emma and Sabrina grew into a motion of comradery with one another. Sammi took the chance to take photos of everyone and everything in the studio. When Nikki or Tommy strike a pose, Sammi shooed them to relax, wanting more candid images of the day to look back on later. Mick was the only one of the three to get the message, mainly focusing on the writing he and Nikki needed to work on to take up the time. It wasn't until the clock read 4:30 that the missing link finally walked through the booth's double doors.

Vince halted when his eyes first laid on was Sammi sitting a bit too close to Nikki on the sofa, reading the bassist's notebook of lyrics. It was the giggle Sammi made that caused Vince's chest to twitch in a rage, kicking the door closed to grab the attention of everyone, especially Nikki's. Sammi quickly jumped out of her spot with a smile, dropping the notebook back on Nikki's lap, jogging over arms open wide.

"Hey, babe!" said Sammi, embracing Vince with a quick peck on the cheek. Vince immediately grabbed Sammi by her cheeks and brought her into an intense kiss, hearing a small, surprised squeak from his girlfriend. Seating on the carpeted floor, Emma and Sabrina shared a glance of cautious curiosity behind their friend's back to not cause any more tension. Sabrina did, however, look up at Nikki's annoyed face, moving away from him as he too got up from the sofa.

"Hi, beautiful. I hope you didn't have to wait too long for me," said Vince, wrapping his arm securely on Sammi's waist.

"I was able to pass the time. I want you to meet my friends," excitedly said Sammi, pulling Vince's hand to the center of the recording lounge. Emma and Sabrina hopped up from the floor, standing straight in front of the shorter man, both with polite smiles. "This is Emma. We actually went to high school together," Sammi pointed to Vince, "and this is Sabrina. She just moved here. This is my boyfriend Vince, girls,"

"It's great to meet you two. If I knew we were going to have guests, I would've come earlier," Vince excused himself.

"Vince, it's a sin to lie," chimed in Tommy from his drum set. Vince glared behind his shoulder at Tommy to then flash at Nikki, who kept staring at him right by Tommy.

"Don't listen to Blondie, girls. He's always late to almost every session," complained Nikki. Vince flips Nikki behind his back without the girl's acknowledgment, Nikki rolling his eyes. "Can we finally get started with practice?" asked Nikki.

"Yeah, Nik, we'll be on the sofa, so we're out of your guy's way," said Sammi, moving away from Vince's grasp on her. Before the girls could take their seats, Vince grabbed the canon camera off the table with a smirk on his face. He pulled Sammi back to his side with force, wrapping his arms tightly once again.

"Here, Emma, take our picture," ordered Vince passing it to Sabrina. Sabrina didn't say a word and only gave it to the right person, no change in her face at all. Emma glanced down at the camera to check it was ready in its place, looking through the viewfinder.

"Say cheese," said Emma. Vince and Sammi both smiled widely, close together, unaware of the boys being in the background, all with annoyance but not for Sammi. As Emma pressed the button, no flash or click was heard, confusing both the photographer and Sammi. "I think we finished the film?"

"What? That's not fair. You didn't think to save enough for us, babe?" asked Vince with a scowl, stepping away from Sammi. Sammi's cheeks flushed in deep pink, darting her eye to her boyfriend and the camera in a nervous tick.

"I-I-I swear, I double-checked to make sure the roll was new before leaving my apartment," stuttered Sammi. Nikki shot up from the stool behind the couple instantly, gently pulling Sammi away to sit down, and began pushing Vince towards the middle of the room.

"Oh well! Too bad! Vince, you have work to do. You can take photos later on your own time," said Nikki, grabbing his bass to plug in the cords. Sammi hung her head low to hide the pink cheeks, messing with her hands as a distraction. Emma and Sabrina sandwich Sammi between them, leaning on her for comfort to erase the awkward situation. Then, as Sammi glanced up to the boys, Nikki winked at her with ease, winning a small smile.

July 13th, 1985

Malibu, California

The summer sun roasted immense heat on the beachy city, not stopping anyone from their weekend. Right by the waters were crowds of both tourists and locals enjoying time off with the hot sand between their toes. At the end of the beach hosted the lavish homes of the mega-wealthy. Some houses had the luxury of the water as their backyards. Sammi, Emma, and Sabrina rode along the rich roads of Malibu in the backseat of a Lincoln town car sent from Nikki, a complete surprise to both Emma and Sabrina. The girls couldn't help but gawk at the passing mansions that cost more than they'll make in their entire lives.

"Where the hell is Nikki taking us?" asked Sabrina.

"The only thing he told me was party in Malibu. I've never been here before," said Sammi, relaxing against the Italian leather seats.

"None of us have been here before, so how does Nikki know Richie Rich?" asked Emma, still staring out the window.

"Some music guy from a different record label that obviously knows how to spend their money," said Sammi, grabbing her bag from the floor of the car.

The car soon pulled up to a gigantic two-story cream-colored house with gold pillars and a stone walkway. The open garage showed off six all-black expensive sports cars, either Ferrari or Porsche, to what Sammi can tell. Sammi stepped out of the town car with Emma and Sabrina by her side, thanking the driver before closing the passenger door. With the front door wide open, chatter from others and the good music could be easily heard, showing the girls they weren't walking to the wrong house. The girls entered the grand foyer, finding the home decorated with more accents of gold, from the marble floor to the two front staircase rails. Sammi couldn't help but feel smaller as they stepped further into the home, finding themselves in the sunken living room.

"Sammi!" Nikki yelled behind the girls, coming out of what appeared to be in the direction of the kitchen. In swim shorts and an open button-down, Nikki walked up with open arms, embracing Sammi in an affectionate hug only. "Emma, Sabrina, it's always a pleasure to you two," said Nikki, touching Sabrina's shoulder for acknowledgment.

"Yeah, hi, who's house is this?" whispered Emma, walking closer to Nikki to not bring attention to them. Nikki chuckled, still holding onto Sammi like she was doing to him.

"Aerosmith's manager. Clearly, he's getting a nice percentage from them," joked Nikki, looking around the house. Both Emma and Sammi's eyes shot open wide, Sammi pulling herself away from Nikki's grasp.

"Are you telling me Steven Tyler could very much be here?" asked Sammi, pursing her lips out. Nikki nodded with a mischievous grin, laughing with Emma and Sammi's shocked face.

"Steven's single right now, Emma, if you want to have some fun for a month or two," suggested Nikki. Sabrina couldn't help but burst into a chuckle while Sammi only smirked at Emma, who turned playfully annoyed, leaving Nikki confused. "What?"

"Uhm, Nikki, can I be honest with you?" asked Emma, looping her arm around Nikki's as the whole group walked outside to the backyard.

"I guess?" said Nikki, sitting on the lounge chairs by the pool with Sammi by his side. Emma leaned forward from their lounge chair, looking around at her surroundings.

"I'm gay," whispered Emma. Nikki's eyebrows shot up in surprise, trying his hardest to not bring attention to themselves as others passed them.

"Well shit, finally found a woman I have something in common with!" joked Nikki, smiling at Emma, pleased to see her sigh in relief.

"Hey!" said Sammi, scrunching her brows at Nikki. Everyone beside Sammi cracked out into laughter, Nikki pulling Sammi in for a hug and Sabrina doing the same for Emma. "We have stuff in common, and I'm a woman," pouted Sammi.

"Princess, I also want to kiss you all the time. It is not the same thing," teased Nikki, kissing Sammi's forehead while she continued to pout. Emma and Sabrina glanced at each other with a knowing smile as they watched the couple be in pure bliss and in their own little world. Before anyone in the group moved to get a drink or show off their bathing suit, Sammi reached into her tote bag and pulled out her old Canon camera. As a group of girls walked towards the lounge chairs, Sammi reached out to stop the nicest looking one.

"Hey, would you mind if you take out photo?" politely asked Sammi.

"Oh, of course not!" said the girl, grabbing the camera from Sammi's reach. "Pose and say cheese!"

Nikki wrapped his arms around Sammi from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder with a soft smile and bright eyes. The intimidating member of one of the most famous hard rock bands shows a moment of softness for everyone to see.

Pressed into Nikki's side, Sammi closed the photo album with a fond smile, then pressed her lips against the pleather material, the memories she captured over the years finally one place to remember. Finally, Sammi straightened herself to face Nikki, cradling his face with her hands, kissing him on his forehead.

"Thank you," uttered Sammi. Nikki held onto the hand that cupped his cheek, leaning into the touch as he only stared warmly at Sammi. Finally, he reached out for one single kiss to then sigh with great relief for the end of his little project. It was the most nerve-wracking process he had ever experienced, even if the man's life was a roller-coaster enough.

"I'm happy you loved it. There were too many memories in those cameras to not have them developed," said Nikki. "Some of them surprising me,"

"Like your portrait?" chuckled Sammi, resting against the fluffy sofa pillows.

"Well, I was thinking of all the photos from on the road, but I do look good in that photo," said Nikki, resting his hand on Sammi's spread-out leg in his lap. "Even if you were pissed at me,"

"When was I not?" teased Sammi. Nikki pinched Sammi's leg in response, chuckling at her yelp. "And yet I still couldn't stay away now, could I?"

"Something I'll always be grateful for," Nikki said, leaning forward to kiss Sammi on the lips, almost climbing on top of her. However, Nikki didn't bother to sit back down, laying his head on Sammi's chest right where he could hear her heartbeat. Sammi's hand immediately found its way onto the long black locks, running her nails softly on Nikki's scalp. Nikki closed his eyes with a sigh of content from the feeling. "I love you," mumbled Nikki.

"I love you too," replied Sammi, kissing him on his head. The couple laid together on the sofa with no worries running through their heads for once, enjoying the slow afternoon. Nikki listened to Sammi's steady heartbeat that put him back to sleep just as Sammi followed shortly behind him. The calm feeling between them was almost foreign yet appreciated compared to the treacherous path they made for years. Now it was time to create a new path that both Nikki and Sammi wanted to make that lasted for miles until their last days.

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terrm9 · 3 years

Text

Father’s Day

Ethan makes sure to celebrate the Father’s Day with his daughter. (Ethan X Chiara X Matilda)

Words count: 4 000

Warnings: two swear words, fluff

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened here guys. I am so sorry, this fic lacks plot and point, depth, quality, this truly is one fluffy piece of shit. I had a good feeling about it when the idea appeared in my brain and then I started to write and nothing seemed right. And I just kept telling myself ‘just keep writing and it will start making sense. It will get better’... and suddenly the fic is finished and it still doesn’t make sense. I was so close to not posting it, but then I thought that sometimes mindless fluff can make my mood better and so maybe it can do some good to you too. Love you all and I promise I won’t be angry or hurt if you hate this:D

Also Ethan is ~47 in this fic, if you thought I wouldn't mention his graying hair, I am sorry but I did

Also also, I didn't find the strength needed for a proof reading this and so I didn't proof read it. If you see a mistake, please pretend you don't see it

The sun was long set at the time Ethan stepped into the apartment and even though he rationally knew that it was late, he couldn’t quite give up on his hope that maybe Matilda was still up. On the days like this, when more patients came in than out of the hospital and there was so much of a paperwork that he has to bring it home with him, there is nothing Ethan loved more than to put his daughter to sleep and then spend a nice quiet evening with Chiara.

But of course, Matilda was fast asleep – judging by the silence filling the whole apartment – and so Ethan was looking forward to skipping to the part of sharing an evening with his wife.

Chiara didn’t notice him as he stepped into the living room, her nose slightly crinkled as she was filling some papers spread on the dining table, white earpods in her ears.

Looks like I am not the only one to bring work home with me today.

Ethan stopped in his tracks for a moment, just inhaling the familiar scent of Chiara and home and absorbing the picture in front of him. Even after alsmot ten years since he met her for the first time, even though she was his wife now, someone he woke up next to every morning, Chiara still – always – managed to knock the air out of his lungs. How her smile only gained more brightness through the years and how she looked almost like a girl with her hair braided on one side.

Had he been an artist, he would call her his muse.

But he was just a man, a doctor with any artistic words stuck in his throat and so he just kept staring at Chiara and thought, inspiration, that’s what she was, because even the most rational of men could get inspired.

„I can feel you standing there,“ Chiara exclaimed suddenly, putting the earpods off and turning to him with that bright smile.

„My apologies,“ he smiled faintly and crossed the distance between them to give her, what Chiara called ‚a proper greeting‘. He kissed her softly and it only took the feeling of Chiara’s warm body under his hands to ease the tension in him almost completely.

„Matilda missed you tonight,“ Chiara murmured into his chest, not willing to break their embrance.

„As I missed her,“ Ethan sighed. „Did you have an eventful afternoon?“

Chiara chuckled at that, parting from him at last to switch her phone off and leave the work on the dining table.

„Just the usual. The teacher asked them to draw themselves in the future and she couldn’t decide which version of that future she should draw because she wants to be everything.“

Ethan could imagine the conversation very well. Matilda, at the age of five, knew exactly what she didn't want to become when she grows up - a doctor. She kept shifting between wishing to be a travel blogger like her aunt Kyra or a photographer like aunt Alicia. After a weekend spent in Providence, she proclaimed that she could also imagine being a cable repairwoman like grandpa, because grandpa has the coolest coworkers that came over and let her eat chocolate cookies and watch football with them. And if by any unfortunate coincidence she should become a doctor after all, she would definitely be a surgeon like uncle Bryce, because he actually cuts people and that's much more interesting than her parents' job. All they do is talk about the patients.

„I promised her you would take her to school tomorrow. You have rounds in the morning but I can taker over,“ which would only be a service for you, she thought to herself. „That would certainly make her feel better.“

„Was she that sad that I didn’t come home earlier?“

"Oh, she was more sad about the Father's Day program at her school – you know, the one where kids and their dads go together - but I explained her why you had to miss it."

Ethan furrowed his brows, confused for a while.

"Why do I have to miss it?" he asked as he picked Matilda's stuffed llama from the floor.

"It's the Wednesday when you are at the conference in Seattle."

Ethan put the toy on the couch next to Til's favourite blanket and sat down before responding, his voice carrying no sign of hesitation.

"If there's a Father's Day program at her school and she wants me to be there, I'll be there."

Ethan knew all too well why he was so persistent on being there.

He wished he didn’t know, but he did.

Because he knew what it felt like to spend so many of his Mother’s Days programms with his teeth gritted, wishing it could all just end.

He could still remember the first Mother’s Day without Luise, how his teacher walked into the class and told them that they would create nice postcards for their moms and how Ethan’s classmate pointed his finger at him and said: „And what is Ramsey going to do? It’s not fair that he doesn’t need to do anything for the whole hour.“

It was the first time Ethan punched someone.

There was no way, no way, that he would allow his daughter to feel any of those feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by Chiara, now sitting right next to him, a soft concern visible on her features.

„Alan and Naveen would go with her, you know. She wouldn’t be alone.“

„I am her father.“

„And you are also an author of the study this whole conference is going to be about.“

Ethan knew Chiara was right, just as he knew that she was doing this not because she didn’t want him to attend the programm, rather because she respected and supported his career.

But her arguments were of no use. Ethan’s mind was made up and he only wondered if this is what it felt like, all those years ago, when he pushed Chiara away in order to support her career. The idea of putting career first was making him uncomfortable and all he could do was to think, how did Chiara see it all those years ago?

Or rather, how did he not see it back then?

He had no answers, only his gratitude that she stayed and showed him the world through her eyes.

„Aurora is just as much of an author as me. She can handle the conference without me just fine. You can go with her.“

„Me?“ Chiara asked incredulously.

„Sure. They don’t really care which Dr. Ramsey will come.“

Ethan aged well. More wrinkles circled the corners of his eyes and the grey hair on his temples were not an optical illusion anymore (and Chiara has never found him more handsome than now) and his gaze changed too, the cold blue of his eyes almost forgotten, as his eyes were warm and soft almost all the time he was with his family.

Ethan aged and changed and yet there was a thing that didn’t change in the slightest in these last years. His insufferable stubborness.

And so Chiara knew that he won’t change his mind and that there was no point in trying to and while it warmed her heart to see how in love with Matilda Ethan was, the study was important to him.

Obviously not important enough, however, and Chiara decided not to push him any further. Instead, she asked curiously.

„And what are you going to perform? What if Matilda wants to do something crazy?" Chiara raised an eyebrow.

"Of course she won't want anything crazy. What if it were my father and Naveen taking her?"

Chiara laughed wholeheartedly at his question, because for someone so brilliant, sometimes Ethan was desperately clueless when it came to people around him - and what they were willing to do for their daughter.

"Please, this is Naveen and Alan you are talking about. Matilda could say she wants to sing Hakuna Matata and they would come dressed as Timon and Pumba."

"Ah," Ethan exhaled, obviously only now realizing that Chiara was, indeed, right. And singing - or dancing, for God's sake - was not part of his plan. "Well, she can play some basic compound on the piano, she has learned some already. And I could accompany her on the cello."

Chiara choked on the water she was just drinking, turning to look at Ethan so swiftly, his brows furrowed in a concern for her neck.

"On a what now?"

“A cello. I thought you knew that I used to play the cello as a kid.”

“Of course, but the as a kid part is important. I mean, I played a piano as a kid and now I couldn’t play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star if my life depended on it.”

Ethan laughed, wrapping his arm around Chiara in a half-hug and had to bite his tongue not to tell her that maybe Matilda could teach her, as she already could play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star exceptionally well.

“I might have stopped playing actively when I was ten, but I found a certain sense of serenity in music – and playing – for a long time after that. I-,” Ethan stopped himself, mulling over his next words. It was not like he didn’t want to tell Chiara anything, but talking about his years at med school was not something he did often. “I befriended a music shop’s owner back in Baltimore. He was a nice guy, barely older than me and so very different. He had musical instruments for sale there and as we became closer, he let me borrow the cello and play a little in the back of the shop. It became a thing that helped me clear my head when school became too stressful and it also helped me not to forget how to play. I think Matilda’s level on the piano is very close to what I can remember with the cello.”

Now all he had to do was to find someone who would borrow him the cello.

*** *** ***

Ethan always found it amusing, how his mornings with Matilda differed compared to Matilda’s mornings with Chiara.

He made sure to wake her up earlier than usual, so that they could cook breakfast together and have some time to spare.

Chiara – the person that hated mornings more than eggplants – did all she could to stay in bed for as long as possible. She would rather prepare Matilda’s breakfast in the evening and run to the school than wake up before 6 AM.

And it seemed like Matilda realized this difference quite soon, for all the times Ethan came to wake her up, she knew she could ask him to join her in bed for a few minutes.

"Hey, little Rookie," Ethan whispered, softly stroking Matilda's curls out of her forehead so that he could press a gentle kiss on it. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

The little Rookie nickname was first used when Til was perhaps one year old and it made her giggle so hard Ethan kept using it. Chiara found it extremely funny, always pointing out that Matilda was nothing if not Ethan’s exact copy – and she was right. With her big blue eyes and long curly dark hair, there was no doubt that she was Ethan’s daughter. Not that the similarities ended in her physical appearence – she was phenomenally subborn for a five year old (to which Ethan always argued that she could as well inherit that from Chiara) and sarcasm was her second language. She also might have used ‚fuck‘ once or twice and Ethan knew it’s not Chiara she heard that from.

You should call her little Terminator, Chiara always teased and partly, she was right.

But there were many traits and marks of Chiara in their daughter, marks not so visible but unmistakely hers. How Matilda’s smile was always bright and warm and sincere, something only Chiara could pass on. How she came home one day from school and asked Ethan if he could make cupcakes with her, because her classmate loves cupcakes but his parents are too busy to make them for him and so she would love to bring him some to school. How she appreciated the most common of things, like sun shining because it makes her skin warm and also rain falling because she can jump in the puddles. Her genuine curiosity and open heart and just her general need to make people around her feel good.

That was all Chiara’s mark and Ethan loved his two girls so much it sometimes still surprised him. That he was capable of such love.

It also made him want more sometimes. More people to love that much.

„Snuggle time, please?“ Matilda smiled, her eyes still closed and Ethan was prepared, he knew this request would come and so he didn’t even need to check the watch to know that he could lay down next to her, the tiny bed making his position rather awkward.

He snuggled Matilda from behind and between her slow stirs as she began to wake up and his soft kisses put on the back of her head, he whispered how excited he was to attend the Father’s Day program with her.

*** *** ***

Ethan didn’t even need to try hard to persuade Matilda that a piano-cello duet would be better to perform than a dance. She liked the idea from the beginning and after going through her music sheets with Chiara, she happily exclaimed that they could try to learn Hedwig’s Theme together. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement and Ethan knew the decision was already made, because he couldn’t resist that face.

And so they performed and for a girl who was five and her father, who was almost fifty, they did a great job. Seeing Matilda’s pure, unadultered joy and excitement and so much gratitude that her dad could be there with here, was something Ethan would consider one of the best moments of his life forever.

Tillie was almost jumping up and down with the happiness as they watched her classmates and their fathers or grandfathers or mothers in some cases or maybe even uncles perform their numbers. She was clapping hard after every single one and she kept waving at everyone, her smile so wide Ethan thought for a while that she resembled Bryce more than anyone. The thought made him chuckle, because Matilda would love to hear that, as Bryce was her hero and possibly the best person she could spend her sleepovers at.

Ethan could hardly say that he enjoyed being surrounded by so many people, but he sincerely did enjoy spending the day with his kid. He didn’t regret choosing making a fool out of himself in front of bunch of kids instead of the conference. He almost forgot about the conference altogether until Aurora’s call interrupted the bustle full of laughter around them.

She only called him to let him know that all went well and she was off to have a lunch with other diagnosticians that helped with the study.

"Yes, alright. I'll see you on Monday. Good job, Aurora," Ethan put the phone back into his pocket and turned to Matilda.

"I am sorry you missed the conference because of me, dad."

Ethan knelt down so that he could face his daughter, the very same blue eyes he knew from mirrors, looking back at him, wide and curious.

He smiled softly, kissing Matilda's forehead before responding.

"I am not. No conference is that important, and just between the two of us," Ethan lowered his voice and put his best serious face on, causing the mischievous sparks ignite in Tillie's eyes "Conferences are so boring. You saved me from a torture."

She giggled and threw her arms around Ethan's neck, squeezing him as hard as a five years old could.

"Now let's go, I think there's an ice cream that needs to be eaten."

"But daddy you said ice creams are sugar bomb!"

Ethan chuckled at her shocked expression - not sure is it was a genuine one or an act - and took her little hand into his.

"I'll pretend I don't see you eating it."

Matilda squealed and before her ‚no sugar in this house‘ dad could change his mind, she stormed off in the direction of the ice cream truck.

Before she could reach her destination, however, she stopped in her tracks and tugged on Ethan’s sleeve, pointing at the little girl sitting under one of the trees – alone.

„That’s Dorothy! She is my best friend.“

Yes, Ethan remembered Matilda mentioning Dorsey, her best friend, quite often, but he never got a chance to meet her before. The girl was tiny, much smaller than Matilda – which inherited Ethan’s significant height, too – her hair almost white and her eyes similar to Matilda’s, big and blue but not even close to being as bright.

„She doesn’t have a dad,“ Matilda added, her voice much less excited now. „She didn’t want to come here but her mom has to be at work.“

Ethan’s heart tightened at her words, the description of Dorothy’s situation reminding him of his own when he was a kid way too much.

„Why don’t you go and ask her to join us for an ice cream?“ Ethan smiled at Matilda faintly.

Before he could as much as blink, Matilda was gone and in the very next moment, both girls were back, smiling up at him, his own kid widely and Dorothy very shyly.

„Hello, Dorothy,“ Ethan knelt down and smiled at her encouragingly. „I am Ethan. It is my pleasure to meet you, Matilda talks about you a lot.“

„Hello,“ Dorothy muttered, not meeting his eyes and Ethan noticed she was holding Matilda’s hand.

Without any other word, he stood up and led both girls to find an ice cream truck, only half-listening to what they were talking about – enough to recognize that Dorothy was much more open when talking to Matilda, but not enough to register particular words.

Maybe that’s why Matilda’s next question took him off the guard.

„Right, daddy? I was just telling Dorsey that you could be her dad, right? And I would be her sister!“

Ethan’s eyes widened and before he could find the right words – gentle but also firm enough to explain that that’s not exactly how these things work, Matilda spoke again.

„She could come over anytime and we could have sleepovers like the ones I have with uncle Bryce or grandpa and we would play together and I could borrow her my toys, right?“

Ethan nodded and smiled, of course Dorothy is always welcome to stay at our place, and let the topic go, because there was nothing wrong about his daughter having best friend that would come over.

Thirty minutes later, all three of them sat at the grass and ate their ice creams and it was easy to forget the previous converstaions.

*** *** ***

Until he came into his office, a week after the Father’s Day and found Chiara waiting for him, her arms crossed at her chest and her expression unusually stoic.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Chiara spoke.

„Matilda’s teacher just called.“

„What?“ Ethan stepped closer, automatically reaching into his pocket to make sure his phone, wallet and car keys are there and he is ready to leave and pick up Matilda at any moment. „Is something wrong? Is she in trouble? Sick?“

„She is absolutely alright,“ Chiara shook her head sligthly, her face unreadable – something that scared Ethan more than her visible anger. „She just called me to let me know about the rumors going around Matilda’s class these past few days. She thought it would be better if I found out from her rather than from other parents.“

„Rumors?“ Ethan asked, utterly lost and confused.

It took all the willpower Chiara had not to let her facade slip and keep her expression neutral. But teasing Ethan was one of her main hobbies, even after ten years, and so she tried her best.

„Apparently, Matilda and Dorothy Wilkins told everyone that they are in fact sisters. They have different mommies but the same dad – no other than the famous Dr. Ramsey,“ now, it was really hard not to laugh. Ethan’s whole face paled and the confusion was quickly replaced by recognition. „The other kids shared the news with their parents and now those parents talk.“

Ethan didn’t know that Matilda told Chiara about her idea of Ethan becoming Dorothy’s dad the very same evening she shared it with Ethan himself and even though Chiara tried to explain why that idea is not going to work the way the wished it would, Matilda was stubborn. Meaning, Matilda adopted Dorothy as her sister anyway and didn’t mind sharing her dad with her.

„Fuck,“ Ethan whispered, pacing around the office, not really looking up at Chiara.

If he did, he would catch her grinning.

She cleared her throat quickly and added: „Some of the parents came to tell the poor teacher that they appreciate how civil the mothers of Matilda and Dorothy are about the whole thing and that it must’ve taken much strength of our spirits to put out kids into same school.“

She couldn’t anymore. The first chuckle escaped her and when Ethan’s eyes met hers, the mischievous sparks were dancing on full display in her irises, her smile wide and so amused.

Ethan exhaled a sigh full of relief and rolled his eyes and when he looked at Chiara again, she was laughing softly, badly trying to cover her laugh with the hand over her mouth.

The bizarreness of the whole situation and his wife’s reaction made Ethan laugh too and he slumped down on the couch, pulling Chiara with him.

„We should give some kind of explanation, right?“ he whispered when they both calmed down.

„Oh, I don’t know. I am the civil one,“ Chiara smirked smugly. „And with a strong spirit!“

Ethan laughed again at that, thinking about how any kind of rumors about him and Chiara startled him in the beginning of their relationship and how over the years, Chiara managed to teach him to just let people talk.

„She really wants that sibling, huh?“ Chiara broke the silence, poking his side softly.

„Yes, she does,“ Ethan nodded.

„And you would...want that too, right?“ Chiara asked again, this time much more seriousness in her voice.

Both Chiara and Ethan were decided to adopt a child back in the days they believed they would never have their own. After Matilda was born, they didn’t really talk about it anymore – they felt too blessed, too lucky that they’ve gotten her and they were happy.

But the thoughts of adoption never truly left their heads and Chiara knew that especially Ethan considered the option often. She could see him talking to Matilda when she asked for a sister or a brother for her birthday, she saw the dreamy smile as they spoke about little kids.

And it was not like she was against the idea of adopting a child – quite the opposite. She grew up with two siblings and her brother and sister were one of the best parts of her childhood. She wished she could give Matilda the same feeling, the same love she recieved at her age. She just felt like she would be asking for too much, like it would be selfish to want another little human that would make them happy, when they already had one.

Those thoughts were not rational, but they were there and they slowed her decisions down.

„Yes, I would,“ Ethan nodded after a long while, looking straight into Chiara’s eyes.

He would never push her. But he wouldn’t lie either.

Chiara nodded and leaned in to press a soft kiss on Ethan’s mouth, pouring her emotions into it, her excitement with the idea just as strong as her anxiety.

Deep down, she knew that the decision has just been made. That no matter how openly they talked about it or expressed themselves, all three Ramseys wished to share their love and happiness with another soul.

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x matilda

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annavysoul · 3 years

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I can confirm, they introduced themselves as 3 readers and they made a post how Bee is leaving and starting their own channel. They even made a post to support it and linked the blog, that's how I knew of the Bee drama. But yknow whatever. But they shouldn't demonize those poor future apouses lmao, it's not gonna be them, or any of us.

Warning very long, I got carried away my bad lol

But the drama on tumblr is kinda mild conpared to Youtube "readers". At least the readers here on tumblr try to hide the fact, that they're describing themselves very well but yoooooooo.... Youtube readers are a different breed. Most of them are super young (12-13, but there are a handful of readers old enough to fucking know better) and just straight up describe themselves with no shame. I even found some who put pics of themselves lmao. Me and my friends like to go through readings and bet, who is describing themselves as a spouse. There is one reader who has over 30+ vids on Mrs. J, and most readings are like over 20 mins long. How much is there to know about a person, that doesn't exist yet??? But most YT readers are obssessed with the fact, that Mrs. J is from India, what a coincidence that the reader is also from India lmao. I'm not saying BTS wouldn't ever date someone from that country, I'm saying it's impossible to get a specific country, age, height, religion etc from tarot cards. The pics on the cards might give you clues and the cards can say that the person is different from you, but they go into way too much detail. And it's funny because they're always soooo specific for Jungkook and V, but for the other ones....crickets🦗 On one hand it's so sad bc you have these little girls, putting out their private info, looks and secrets for the whole world to see (these vids have thousands of views) and they don't really grasp the consequences of their actions bc yknow, their just children. The internet never forgets. But on the other hand, you have these grown women who, like I said, should know better than these little girls. Not only do they get so defensive if you don't 100% allign with what they said, they are borderline so obsessed of the idea of being a spouse. Like tf??? Bts aren't Gods. They're very attractive celebs, who's purpose is to entertain people with their contents and music (hence the word idol & entertainer), while they do feed into that perfect bf material scheme, it's up to the fan to not actually develop real romantic feelings (a celeb crush and being a stan is something very different). Most are actually fans for very superficial reasons, they just find them attractive, not the music. And if you take the glitz and glamour of fame and money away, Bts are regular human beings, with flaws and issues. Like. The. Rest. Of. Us. They only show you the best side of them, because it's part of the whole idol package. We truly do not know these people, no matter how sincere or authentic they appear on camera. Like so so many were suprised that they wanted to disband a few years ago, bc they couldn't handle the pressure. These readers always believe if they meet/marry them, their life is going to be better and they feel alive again or smth. Most of these readers actually need therapy, I don't mean that in a condescending way. They imagine that their spouse, a celeb they've never met, will be their sole reason for their happiness and only then they are able to fix their issues and unhappiness. That reeks of co-dependency. And even if they'd become couple and be public, then what? A really big big chunk of Armys are actually in love with Bts, no matter if they even know tarot or not (Armys usually claim that only 2% of the fandom are delulus but that's definetly not true🥴). You'd get send d*eath threats, be harrassed, get doxxed, be hated for all eternity, even if you'd decided to break up. Look what happend with Jk and the tattoo artist he only hugged. She lost her job bc Armys were reporting her, some were trashing her workplace, she got threats, her friends got harassed and doxxed and she lost a friend (Jk). Not only that, but people would legit stalk you and try to hurt you, if you were a romatic partner of Bts. Then you also have the tarot side, who'd try to curse youa nd paint you as the evil demon, who is toxic to member xyz. And I don't think you'd want to spend your entire life locked in your house. And I personally could never deal with like millions of haters, no matter how hot my partner is.

Yoooo! i search again in yt and watch a couple of videos... these are kids for go sake🥺🥺 where are their parents and why they let them public private infoooo?!? internet and children isnt the best combination...

and yess, theres also grown up women and thats really creepy, u can understand that children might do that cause they are young, BUT WHEN U ARE OLD ENOUGH, U SHOULD ACT BETTER!! and i insist, they just trying to prove to themselves and to the world that they are worth it to be with a celebrity, like yeah of course u are worthy, like any of us, but this is not the way u know? its weird, i dont think its sane at all, they just are using the cards to feel better, and thats bs. and if it is just a cope mecanism, plz work on yourself, get help, life its better when u are in a healthy place

also its interesting about mrs being from india and most of all the videos i watch where from indian armys, tarot doesnt work like that, yeah u can feel the energy that its different, perhaps different culture and think that maybe it could be a foreing, but the cards will never tell you something that specific, less if u dont even know in person the people you are reading for

we dont know them at all, and people put them in a such high pedestal just for being famous and hot, so i really have trouble to think that some tarot readers can pick their real energy, im a very intuitive person, but i need to be in the presence of the person to feel their real energy, so to be so specific in a reading they need to energise the cards with the energy of the person, they need to at least shuffle the cards and connect with the reader, sooo thats why i only see these reads as enterteiment, and its bad for the community to claim that we can see ALL of about them.

i'll never forgive the people who threaten the tattoo artist, poor girl, and thats why the guys cant have healthiest relationship, let them have a LIFE

#bts tarot #bts astrology #bts future spouse #mrs jeon #its so sad to think that they are wasting their youth and cant have friends cause some fans would harrass the people they love #like im only one year young than jk and jeez #they work so hard just to have people harass them bc they claim to be their future spouses?#mom plz pick me up #at this ratio all of us will marry bts #call me mrs bts now 🥴#no plz dont

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Home Alone (Reid Fic)

Summary: For the first time since living with Spencer, Reader is home alone and left to brave the figurative and literal storm on her own. Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, One-shot Content Warning: Storm, fear and paranoia, use of a deadly weapon Word Count: 2.8k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

It was a dark and stormy night.

Too cliche? Let me start over.

It was the time of the year when the wind was so strong, even the sturdiest tree would blow over. Meanwhile, the rain relentlessly pelted the windowpane, cascading down the glass at a record speed. In the distance, you could hear thunder’s deafening clap and see lightning’s blinding flash preceding it. The only thing that could make this storm worse?

Being home alone in it.

Spencer, my roommate, was never gone for more than two days at a time. He always arrived at the exact hour when he texted he would be, and he never ever left me home alone before his arrival. Without fail, he would call over a friend to stay with me or if he knew he’d only be gone a few hours, he’d drop me off in a public space, where he knew people would see me. To put it simply, if I was in the apartment, I wasn’t alone, and I had to think it was because of something he would never tell me about.

Without explicit reasoning for his unwillingness to leave me by my lonesome, I could only conjure up theories and inferences that were never confirmed. My best guess was an accumulated paranoia caused by all of those cases he worked on. I’m betting there’s been more than one instance where a woman was home alone and ended up dead one way or another, and after all that he’d seen, he couldn’t let the same thing happen to me. If for no other reason than he just didn’t want to slave over another case like this and have me be the victim in it. He’d seen it too many times to not learn his lesson. And trust me - Spencer Reid is not a person who needed to be taught something twice.

But before I lived with him, I was never scared of being home alone. In fact, I might’ve actually preferred to be alone as opposed to being in the company of someone else, but I think my compliance with his precautionary procedures made me weaker. After years of living with Spencer’s routine, I relied on it for my safety. I’d gotten so used to the luxury of having somebody around when he was away that this loneliness was so unfamiliar that it left me uneasy. By now, I’ve associated the presence of another person with the feeling of being safe, and conversely, I now associate being alone with being in danger.

So if you asked me to sum up how I was currently feeling alone in this storm in one word, I’d choose ‘uncomfortable’, but if you asked me to sum it up in two, my answer would be ‘in danger.’

It wasn’t until the situation presented itself that I realized I’d never been forced to deal with it, so I never knew what to do when it happened. Never before had I needed to call Spencer while he was at work because prior arrangements had always been made in advance, but I hadn’t heard from him since noon when he told me that he was boarding the jet and he’d be home before I came home from work. Was it inappropriate to call him while he was working? I wouldn’t know - I never had to do this before.

But then again, he called me when he said he was about to board the jet, so if I called him, maybe he was still on the jet and it wouldn’t be bothering him. Unless, they got another case as soon as they landed and it required his immediate attention and the thought of calling to let me know he wouldn’t be home yet completely slipped his mind. I could see that being a possibility too because even if I was totally oblivious about when to call him, I wasn’t blind to the mayhem his job involved.

With no good reason to pester him with a phone call, I decided against it. After all, I was a big girl. I could be home alone.

In fact, this was the perfect opportunity to do all the things I couldn’t do while someone was around. Plus, distracting myself was the only way I could ensure that I wouldn’t slip into the same downward spiral of paranoia that led Spencer to enforce this very system.

After my steamy shower, I wandered aimlessly around the apartment in just my towel and nothing else. This was something I hadn’t done since the days when I lived alone. Mainly because I didn’t want to leave so little to the imagination. Honestly, as much as I love Spencer platonically - I’m not blind. He’s obviously a very gorgeous, very single man for God’s sake, so the thought of prancing around in nothing but a rectangle of terry cloth had certainly crossed my mind once or twice, but if anything, wearing more clothing would attract his attention more than wearing less would. That’s just the way he is.

Second on my list of luxuries that came with alone-time was blasting music. This is something I hadn’t done in forever. Out of courtesy, whenever I played music, it would only be through my headphones, so Spencer wouldn’t be bothered by it. Even then, I think sometimes he could hear it faintly in the background while he read or studied his paperwork, but if he noticed, he never said anything. So to relish in my newfound freedom of aloneness, I turned my phone’s volume all the way up and danced ridiculously to it, too. Of course, the music wasn’t loud enough to disturb our neighbors - I wasn’t that insensitive - but it reached new volumes tonight. Louder than it ever had been in this apartment before.

Somewhere in the middle of my impromptu concert, I heard something like knocking. It was a distinct enough sound to make me pause my music, but not so distinct that I could recognize where it came from. I wondered if it was a noise coming from my song, like when you’re playing music and you think someone called your name, but when you pause your music you realize no one actually did. But this … this was different. It was too real of a sound for me to be imagining it. I could hear it from exactly where I would normally hear knocking, but now that I was alone, and quite frankly - naked - hearing knocking made my stomach churn.

“Hello?” I dumbly called out from my bedroom doorway into the living room.

This was a horror movie-esque choice, I’m aware, and it was usually made by the docile female only seconds before a murderer appeared and chased her up a flight of stairs that she’d somehow forgotten to properly ascend. But my thinking was if there really was someone knocking outside, they’d answer me, and I’d be able to detect the danger if necessary, but in true horror movie fashion, no one responded. Leaving me to hunt further to access the situation. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but my mind did exactly that.

You’re about to be murdered. My conscience concluded. Or kidnapped. Or assaulted. Or violated. Or -

Knock! Knock!

My heart accelerated at a pace my lungs couldn’t support, not without heavy breathing. It was here where all my logic and rationality flew out the window because for some reason, I started tip-toeing to the door as if not making any sounds on the floorboards would somehow ensure my safety.

I didn’t know what I was trying to prove by finally grasping the doorknob with the intentions of turning it open, but it certainly didn’t prove I was a “big girl” or that I was any less scared because as quickly as I had touched the knob, I just as quickly recoiled my hand away from it and ran to my purse to find my phone.

Matching the speed of lightning, I dialed Spencer and sighed a quick sigh of relief when I heard the line ringing. That was a good sign.

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up,” I pleaded to myself as if God would hear it and grant me my prayer. “Please pick up, please pick up.”

“The number you are trying to reach (702) -“

“Fuck!”

That’s never happened before either. He never sent me to voicemail, not even when he was away and asleep. He’d always answer my call. This wasn’t a good sign.

The knocking went away minutes ago, but my fear hadn’t. I couldn’t tell you what exactly was so scary to me, but all I knew is that I would feel a whole lot better, and honestly - a whole lot safer - when Spencer came home.

“Come on, Spencer. Where are you?” I tried his cell phone probably three more times after the first call, my hope decreasing with each dial tone.

There was nothing I could do but wait. After all those missed calls, he’d have to call me back sometime, but I just hoped he’d be home before it’d get to that.

My trepidation clearly clouded my judgement because rather than putting on clothes first and having my priorities in order, I was already reaching for the spare gun I knew Spencer kept in his bedside drawer. He didn’t know I knew it was there, but I did. And I planned to use it tonight if it came down to it.

One hand held the top of my towel up from falling while the other shakily clenched a gun.

Before this, I’d never actually held one before, but then again, there’s a lot of ‘firsts’ I was experiencing tonight.

I didn’t expect it to be so heavy - and I don’t mean the actual size, but the weight of the object itself. This thing could take so many people’s lives, and I was holding it. It was a nauseating feeling, but my rapt fascination wouldn’t let me put it down. I had never noticed how intricate the contraption was. There were so many little details, so many little parts that needed to work harmoniously in order for it to carry out its function. I was only made more aware of just how many parts there were inside the gun because of my shaky hand unconsciously rattling the magazine inside.

The clip sounded nearly empty. Jesus, Spencer, how many times have you had to use this thing?

My thoughts were cut short when the sound at the door returned. It didn’t sound like knocking, but something much worse.

Someone was coming in.

I wasn’t yet prepared for the worst so rather than confronting it outside, I stayed hidden within Spencer’s room ready to shoot when they finally came into my line of sight.

If you were an intruder, I don’t think you’d be very intimidated at the sight of me, but for some reason, I still felt rather powerful. My hair was like strings draping over my shoulders since it was still damp, and the one hand I was using to hold the gun (the other being used as a towel holder) was shaking violently. I could barely carry this thing with one hand, and yet I still couldn’t put it down.

I needed protection.

I needed Spencer.

I could hear footsteps slowly trailing in, and it seemed like the slower they walked, the faster my heart beat.

“Who’s there?” My voice was loud, but it wasn’t nearly as threatening as it should’ve been to scare somebody. The dominance in my tone was clearly stolen by my fear.

I saw a figure loom into the space between Spencer’s bedroom door frame and the living room, which was adequate distance for shooting, so with only partial hesitation, I nearly pulled the trigger.

“Shit!” The figure ducked their head while their hands raised into the air to suggest harmlessness - something a suspect would do to surrender.

“(Y/n), put down the gun! Put down the gun! It’s me! It’s Spencer!”

I could recognize his voice, but the storm’s darkness hid his face from me so I was still skeptical. It wasn’t until he swiftly came into the light to take the gun out of my hands that the small flicker of city lights illuminated his face.

Spencer!

As soon as I could make out his perfect nose and his amber eyes, I melted into his already open embrace. I entered his arms wordlessly and shut my eyes so solidly with such relief that a tear escaped.

“Hey, hey … you’re okay. I’m here. You’re okay, my dear.” He took my face in his hands to read me, and I think he must’ve seen my tears because his voice never travelled above a whisper. Maybe he thought if he spoke even a decibel louder, I’d shatter. He let my head travel back to his sternum, the warmest spot on his body, and again, he embraced me in a hug. His hands hovered in the air for a moment while he tried to find an appropriate place to put them - like I said before, he’d never seen me in just a towel, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he threw his good manners out the window and hugged me just as tightly as he would’ve had there been more covering me than just terry cloth.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’m right here.”

He held me for longer than normal, but he knew the circumstances were different here. Maybe that’s why he kept a single arm around me even when he travelled to his dresser where he collected an old t-shirt that he would go on to slide over me. I let the towel drop when the t-shirt was fully on, creating a sort of magic trick, where he never saw my naked body. But that wasn’t exactly true.

I didn’t need to be without clothes to be naked. I was naked right now, even in his shirt - completely and totally vulnerable. He could see the plain fear that held me prisoner tonight, and so he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

“Do you wanna sleep in my room tonight?”

I nodded into his chest without a spoken word. He knew I would still be scared, and in some way, I think his doting treatment was how he believed he could make it up to me. He even helped me into his sheets, taking the time to tuck me in like a child. I realized later though, he might’ve only tucked me in so the movement of the bedsheets would mask the sound of him carefully sliding his gun back into its rightful spot in his drawer.

“Where were you?” I finally croaked, neglecting to add, ‘I needed you.’ It would’ve been redundant. He knew I needed him.

“The storm knocked over a telephone pole just a mile away. I was almost home when it happened.”

Somehow hearing that he was so close only made me more frustrated. Here I was, thinking I was on the verge of death when Spencer was literally just a few blocks down the street.

“You scared me when you didn’t answer my calls.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t see them until I was at the front door. I was too busy focusing on getting home to you as soon as possible while still driving safely through the storm.”

With my eyes already shut, I could imagine him, his hands at ten and two on the wheel, his eyes straightward with nothing else in sight but the road ahead of him, his motivation to get home to the person who needed him most being what propelled that car forward - not even the gas.

“I love you, you know that?” He whispered into my hair, where his fingers were already laced.

“I know. And I love you, too.” I honestly replied. That’s why I need you here with me. It’s the only way I feel safe.

I would’ve gone to sleep right then and there, but I was stuck on the fact that he was just a mile away this entire time. Maybe that was the point, though.

He was never too far away. He was always right there, in one way or another.

“In the morning, I have to leave at 7, so I’ll drop you off at the library.” What’d I tell you? He always made arrangements for me so I’d never ever be left alone. “So in the car ride there, you can tell me why you were about to shoot me.”

After his statement was the first time I laughed that night. I nudged him to show my playful disapproval of his jest.

“I thought you were an intruder!” My voice finally regained its volume. “You scared the shit out of me when you walked in.”

Our laughter faded to silence and it seemed like that would conclude the night’s conversations, but I could still hear the gears in Spencer’s brain turning.

“Hey, wait a minute - how did you even know I had a spare gun in my drawer?”

To his question, I pretended to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to answer, exaggerating my snores to emphasize my blatant sarcasm.

“Answer me!” He persisted; I could hear him smiling.

But I only smirked against his chest and coquettishly cooed, “Goodnight, Spencer.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

taglist: @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny

comment/message me to be added to taglist!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #home alone

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whentheynameyoujoy · 3 years

Text

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

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shcherbatskya · 3 years

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okay here’s the much awaited (at least for me) first chapter of my multi chapter fic, where we go from here! it will be below the cut but i’m also uploading it to ao3 here

It was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill ghoul hunt. They’d be back in a day at most. But it had been more than a day and Jack was getting worried. Normally he wouldn't be this on edge, but Sam was off the grid with Eileen and wouldn't be in range for a few days. Dean and Cas had gone to Tennessee three days ago to deal with a call from a concerned local authority who got their number after another hunter had stopped by the town to deal with a vampire nest. They’d promised Jack they would call him if they really needed him, but they hadn't been picking up his calls or listening to any of his voicemails. So he did the only thing someone with the innermost thoughts of a four-year-old would. He contacted the first person he could think of that Dean and Cas cared about, minus Sam.

Claire was doing the normal thing to be doing at one in the morning on a Tuesday. Sleeping. She was understandably alarmed when someone knocked on the door at that hour. She opened the door, marine-grade knife in hand (a birthday present from Dean), to a kid no older than herself.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing at my house at two in the morning,” she questioned.

“Hi! I’m Jack.” He raised his hand and did a little wave.

“Okay, Jack, still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I’m sort of your little brother? Did Dean and Cas not tell you?”

Dean and Cas? Huh. They had mentioned a kid, but she had expected a toddler not a teenage boy. “The god kid?”

“Yeah!”

“Huh. Okay then, so why aren’t you with Dean and Cas right now? They kick you out or something?”

“No, they’ve been on a hunting trip. They haven’t been home or answered any of my calls in a few days,” he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, “I came here to see if you’d help me look for them.”

Claire could see how worried the kid was and if anything she was no stranger to absent parents and she’d stop anyone going through that if she could. Plus it’s not like she had anything better to do these days.

“Okay but you have to let me get the rest of my night’s sleep. I’ll pack a bag and we’ll hit the road tomorrow morning.”

Jack was pretty much beaming at her now, it was evident that he looked up to Claire from what Dean and Cas had told him about her. Kaia, who he regularly talked to, also told him a lot about Claire. She was like the sibling he never had!

Claire already had a bag packed. It was her ‘drop everything, something bad has happened and I need to haul ass’ bag, so far she hadn’t had to use it aside from one time she just didn’t feel like packing a real bag. She didn’t think she ever would have to, but here she was. The stakes of the whole ordeal hadn’t set in her mind until now. If they didn’t find them or get there in time, Dean and Cas could be dead. They could be dead right now. She put those thoughts out of her mind, in favor of the more optimistic outlook of Jack’s probably just paranoid. She still couldn’t sleep very well that night.

Jack was still sitting on the couch in the living room. Claire still lived with Jody and the other girls so he couldn’t do much else without waking someone up. He eventually fell asleep on the couch. He woke up when Claire came into the room.

“You ready to go or what?” She asked.

“Yeah yeah im ready,” he mumbled back, still half asleep.

“Do you want me to drive?” Claire asked.

“I don’t have a car,” Jack said, with a look like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he wouldn’t have a car.

“How the hell did you get here then?”

“I can teleport.”

“I guess I’m driving then.”

Claire put her bag in the back seat and Jack took the passenger seat of Claire’s old Subaru. And they were off.

“So where are we going”

“Dean said they were going to Tennessee for a ghoul hunt. Someone in a small town called them, I’m not sure what town though.”

“Well, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, then.”

They did have a lot of ground to cover. The seventeen-hour drive from South Dakota to Tennessee was a lot in and of itself, but to try and find Dean and Cas without having a clue where to look was another story.

“Do you want to look in the news for somewhere to start?” Claire asked, not looking away from the road. “Maybe if you found something in our lane we could take care of that and see if they knew anything about Dean and Cas.”

“Good idea.” Jack seemed to be happy just being out of the bunker and having something to do. He pulled out his phone to look at any news, he looked at all the major cities first. There weren’t that many. Nothing in Nashville or Knoxville.

“Heres something! A public works director in Chattanooga ran over the city treasurer with a car.”

“That just sounds like regular murder. Probably for money or something, maybe they wanted the position.”

“Yeah but there have been an increasing number of murder cases there, way more than normal, all in the past two weeks. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? If it’s not our thing then we can just move on.”

“Chattanooga here we come, I guess,” Claire said. It wasn’t exactly the place she had thought of when thinking of the trip, she’d imagined a lot more action and less investigating a murder in Tennessee. But hey, it’s not for her sake. If it gets Dean and Cas back safe it’s worth it in her eyes.

About another hour passed in relative silence. It was going to get awkward if they were like this for another 12 hours.

“So do you listen to music?” Claire asked, just to break the silence.

“Yeah, I do. Mostly whatever Dean listens to.”

“Well do you want to play something?”

“Sure!” He seemed oddly excited about something as ordinary as picking the music, but he mostly rode in the car with Dean which means other people seldom got their say in what they listened to. Claire’s car had an aux cable which was also more than one could say about Baby. Jack really didn’t listen to much, he would listen to Disney soundtracks on occasion, but those are a sort of ‘listen to it once then it gets annoying’ thing.

“What are your thoughts on lo-fi hip hop beats to chill/study/sleep to,” Jack asked in a way that didn’t really sound like a question.

“There is really nothing else you can think of. In your super powerful angel kid brain, all you can think of is lo-fi beats to chill/study/sleep to.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Truth be told Claire would rather listen to anything but lo-fi beats at the moment, but when put on the spot like that it’s hard to come up with an idea.

“We could just take turns playing songs for a while.”

It was a flat stretch of land for a good amount of miles up ahead so Claire didn’t need to focus so much energy on watching the road.

They went back and forth, Jack played Rainbow Connection from the Muppets and Claire played Celebrity Skin by Hole, so on and so forth. They went on like this for a while, Jack really liked Abba apparently. They eventually agreed on one of the premade “road trip” playlists on spotify. It was mostly dad rock.

“You still need to eat and stuff, right?”

“Yes, I may be part angel but I still have human DNA and organs.”

“Do you want to stop soon? It might be nice to stay overnight somewhere and just get there in the afternoon.”

“Sure. Saint Lewis isn’t too far away from here.”

They stopped at a shitty fast food restaurant and then went to try and find a motel. Instead of stopping directly in Saint Lewis, they decided to go nearer to Mark Twain National Park, as they figured they would find better luck finding somewhere available without a reservation. And they did. A shabby-looking motel almost directly off the one-lane road. They headed inside and sure enough, there were more than enough rooms. It was by no means the most pleasant place either of them had stayed, but it would do for the night. They’d be out early tomorrow morning. They checked in, the woman working at the desk couldn’t have been more than in her early twenties, which wasn’t what you would think of when you walked in, but they’d seen more suspicious things. Claire dumped her bag at the end of the bed closest to the door.

#samael speaks #sammy sires #jack kline #claire novak #supernatural #spn #ill reblog this and tag people in a sec hold on

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suituuup · 3 years

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pieces - chapter thirteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

It didn’t take long for Beca to realize that Sarah was right.

She probably had been oblivious to her feelings for Chloe or chalked them up to close friendship because Sarah was in the picture, but as soon as her guilt over breaking-up with Sarah faded away a couple of weeks ago, it felt as though a veil lifted.

Her whole being lit up every time she saw Chloe, and she craved those soft moments with her, either talking about Bean, or working on the nursery, or cuddling up on the couch.

Beca didn’t know if Chloe felt the same way, and even if she did, she was probably miles away from being ready to launch into a relationship, between the baby and her recovery.

She focused on her music in the meantime, writing three more songs to go with that one piece she came up with the day after she saw Chloe again. One was about being brave, another about getting redemption, and the last one about finding happiness. All about Chloe, and how much her journey inspired Beca.

Beca came home pretty late from the office that night, wrapping up the final versions of all four songs with Luke. She found Chloe on the couch watching a sitcom and padded over. Chloe was now shy of 22 weeks and sporting the most adorable baby bump.

They had worked on the nursery over the last two weekends, hanging cute, colorful pictures of several woodland animals and sticking colorful, minimalist tree wall decals on the opposite wall. The crib, changing table, and car seat had been ordered, and Beca was planning a surprise baby shower with Aubrey, a month after the Bellas reunion, which was taking place in two weeks at a cabin upstate.

“Hey,” Beca murmured, plopping down beside her. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good. Bean and I went for a walk, then we met up with Aubrey for lunch, and napped for most of the afternoon. She’s kicking like crazy right now, though.”

Beca grinned. “Yeah?” She cleared her throat, hesitant. “Can I… feel?”

“Of course,” Chloe said softly, taking Beca’s hand and setting it on the left side of her stomach. “That’s where her foot was just a second ago.”

Beca folded her legs under her and sat back on her heels to be more comfortable, silence descending upon them as they waited. After a minute, she glanced at Chloe. “Maybe it’s not strong enough to be felt from the outside, yet?”

“No, it’s not that. I think she’s stopped.”

“Oh,” Beca let out in slight disappointment. Just as she was about to pull her hand away, she felt a light tap against her palm and gasped. “Oh my god, I felt it!”

A giggle burst from Chloe’s mouth. “That was a strong one.”

“That’s amazing,” Beca mused aloud, her voice sticking to her throat a bit. Yes, she was about to cry over Chloe’s baby kicking, that’s how soft this whole thing had made her. “Jesus Beale, your kid is turning me into a giant puddle of mush.”

Chloe chuckled, moving Beca’s hand to a new spot and keeping hers on top. Bean kicked again, pulling another gasp from Beca.

“Does it hurt?” Beca found herself asking, her gaze sweeping upwards to watch Chloe’s expression.

“It’s a little bit uncomfortable whenever she kicks in the ribs, but other than that, no.” Chloe moved her hand to another spot, tracking the next kick. “How was your day? You’re home pretty late.”

“Yeah, Luke and I added the finishing touches to my EP.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “When is it going to be out?”

“We still have to get the art for the cover, so probably in a couple of weeks, right after the Bellas reunion.” Chloe nodded slowly. “Are you excited to see the girls?”

“I’m… a bit nervous to be honest. What are they gonna think?”

Beca smiled. “They’re going to think that you’re a badass.” Chloe broke eye-contact, shaking her head as looked down to her lap. “Hey, I’m serious. None of them are going to judge you. And just like Aubrey and I, they’re going to be so happy to have you back in their lives.”

Chloe hesitantly met her gaze. “You really think so?”

A firm nod. “I know so.”

Chloe managed a smile and a faint nod. “Okay.”

The following two weeks were busy for Beca as she focused on promoting her EP and tied some loose ends before the Bellas reunion so she wouldn’t be bothered that weekend. Early on that mid-August Saturday morning, they set off to Lake Placid, having planned to meet the Bellas there by lunchtime. Chloe didn’t mention anything, but Beca could tell she was nervous from all the cooking she had done in the past few days, enough to feed an army.

She was glad, however, that Chloe used that as a stress-reliever as opposed to falling back into bad habits.

They made it to the cabin Beca rented just before 1 pm, and Beca heard Chloe suck in a sharp breath as soon as she killed the engine, her expression similar to when they made it to her parents’ two months ago.

“It’ll be okay,” Beca murmured, covering Chloe’s hand with her own and squeezing it. She was a bit worried about there being alcohol, as Chloe insisted they shouldn’t have to restrain themselves for her sake.

“Thanks,” Chloe breathed out, flipping her hand over and holding Beca’s for a moment. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Most of them had made it there last night as they were flying in, shouts and laughter carrying from the backyard, where the outdoor pool was. It was sunny and way too hot for Beca’s liking, but she didn’t say a word, as being pregnant in that weather was definitely worse.

If Chloe was uncomfortable with the temperature, she didn’t let it show, looking gorgeous in her yellow maternity summer dress.

Stepping inside, they set the food bags on the kitchen island and Beca walked towards the open bay window, Chloe following behind.

“Hey nerds,” she called out as she stepped out on the patio just as Amy made a cannonball, the splashing water nearly drenching her. “Dude!”

“Sup Shortstack?” Amy greeted as she emerged a few beats later.

“Chloe!” Beca turned around to see Stacie striding over and hugging Chloe tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hey Stace,” Chloe murmured, embracing her back. “I’ve missed you, too.”

As Beca had predicted, the Bellas took it all in one stride, greeting Chloe like it hadn’t been over six years since they last saw one another and making her feel like a part of the group without a second thought.

Now able to relax, Beca helped herself to a drink, watching from afar as Chloe met Stacie’s three-year-old daughter for the first time, a fond smile etched in her features. It was clear from that first exchange with Bella that Chloe would rock this mom thing, given how much of a natural she was around kids.

After lunch, the girls made the most of the pool, either playing various games in the water or sunbathing in the lounge chairs. Beca was content soaking it all in at the table, sipping on a margarita. Her gaze often wandered to Chloe as she chatted with Jessica while reclining on a chair, clad in a bikini with one hand rubbing her belly.

It was easy for her thoughts to escape towards what it could be if she and Chloe were to become something more. Raising Bean together, buying a house somewhere outside the city, getting a dog, possibly getting married...

“Oi, Mitchell.”

Beca snapped out of her reverie, clearing her throat in embarrassment as Stacie plopped down next to her. “What’s up, Stace?”

“You good?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You looked like you were having a moment.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Beca assured her and smiled, setting her drink down before pushing to her feet. She wanted to get in on the pool action, but her bathing suit was upstairs in her overnight bag. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Be quiet if you’re going upstairs?” Stacie asked. “I just put Bella down for her nap.”

“No problem.”

Beca headed to her room and changed into her bikini, sliding her denim shorts back on and grabbing her sunscreen as she didn’t want to resemble a lobster tonight. As she quietly headed down the hallway towards the stairs, she couldn’t help but freeze when she heard her name behind a door left slightly ajar.

“Feelings? For Beca?”

It was Aubrey’s voice. Beca knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she really couldn’t get her feet to move, curiosity rooting them down.

A sigh that belonged to Chloe followed. “I was convinced it was just my hormones going wild at first. But then something happened the other night when she felt Bean kick for the first time. You should have seen her reaction, Bree... she was completely moved by it, and it’s like I felt my heart double in size. And I think about her non-stop, even when I need to… take care of myself.”

“Oh my god, ew, Chloe!” Aubrey hissed while Beca nearly choked on her saliva, her entire body feeling as though it just caught on fire. “I don’t need to hear that.”

“I’m sorry!” Chloe whispered, stifling a laugh. “What I mean by that is that it’s not just platonic love or gratitude because of everything she did for me lately. I’m physically attracted to her, too. It feels exactly the same as it did in Barden.”

Beca’s heart stuttered at that. Chloe had feelings for her back then, too?

“Are you going to tell her?” Aubrey asked softly.

“I…” Chloe hesitated. “I want to. But I’m just getting my life back together, I’m not ready for a relationship yet. And I’m also… scared she might not feel the same way.”

Beca forced herself to walk away, knowing that what she was doing wasn’t right. Her brain reeled from the onslaught of information all evening long. She was physically there, but her mind felt thousands of miles away, her thoughts going back and forth between that night at Barden, and if she should tell Chloe about how she felt.

She retreated to her room before the others, not that it surprised anyone as she was, along with Aubrey, considered the grandma of the group. She had just slipped into bed when a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” she called out softly.

The door opened just wide enough for Chloe to step inside, and she shut it behind her, padding over to the bed. “You okay? You’ve seemed off tonight.”

Beca nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. I promise.” She patted the space next to her. “Wanna hang out here for a bit?”

As Chloe nodded and shuffled to lie next to her atop the covers, Beca felt her heartbeat quicken. It was odd, knowing for certain Chloe had feelings for her and holding the cards in her own hands.

“Today was a lot of fun,” Chloe murmured as she sat propped against the pillows, bracing a hand over her stomach. “You were right. The girls don’t care about my past.”

“Well, your past doesn’t define you,” Beca said with a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“Are you nervous about tomorrow? About your EP coming out?”

Beca shook her head. “Not really. I didn’t write those songs with the goal to hit the top of the charts, so I don’t exactly feel any pressure.” At Chloe’s slight tilt of the head, she added, “I wrote them because they helped me work through some of my feelings. Especially the first one.”

Twisting her head to the right, she grabbed her phone and her headphones, plugging them in before gently setting them over Chloe’s ears. She puffed out a breath and pressed play, willing her ratcheting heart to chill the fuck out as Chloe closed her eyes and listened.

The song only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like the longest of Beca’s life. Chloe’s lids slowly opened, and she lowered the headphones so that they hung around her neck, her gaze full of questions.

“It’s about us,” she whispered, no doubt having picked up the few hints woven into the lyrics.

Beca swallowed, nodding. She had never felt at ease pouring her heart out, and she sucked in a deep breath through her nose, puffing it out through her lips. “You remember when I told you about listening to your gut?” Chloe gave a faint nod. “That’s what I should have done that morning after because not telling you how I felt was the biggest mistake of my life.”

She briefly glanced down. “I had broken Jesse’s heart just a little while before, and I was scared that I just wasn’t made for relationships. So I didn’t say anything, because I couldn’t break your heart, either. I would have never forgiven myself if I did.”

Chloe remained silent for half-a-minute, processing Beca’s words. “I knew you were in love with me,” she admitted softly. “And I had the feeling you were just scared, so I didn’t push you. I figured… you just needed time, and I was ready to wait for you. But then…” she cleared her throat, her eyes flickering down. “My life skidded out of control.”

Beca’s heart suddenly feels heavy with the weight of regret. She can’t help but wonder how different things could have been, had she been honest with Chloe that morning. But she willed her mind to come back to the present because there was no point in wallowing in the should-haves and what-ifs. Not when she was being given a second chance.

No chickening out this time. She wasn’t a kid anymore.

“I want to be with you, Chlo,” she murmured, her throat shrinking with emotions as she forced her gaze to remain locked with Chloe’s. “These past few months… living with you and being by your side through this journey-- it made me fall in love with you all over again.”

Chloe closed her eyes, and a few tears toppled down her cheeks. She released a long breath. “I want that, too. I do,” she croaked out, and something that had been poking at Beca’s heart suddenly vanished. Chloe reached out to swipe her palm over both cheeks, her other hand sliding into Beca’s. “I just need some time. I need to find a more stable mindset before I open that door.”

“I know,” Beca whispered, blinking back her own tears. “And I’ll wait, this time. For however long it takes. I promise.”

“I know,” Chloe echoed, her thumb slowly stroking Beca’s knuckles back and forth. “I trust you.”

They shared a soft smile, and Beca didn’t think she had felt this light, ever.

“I guess I should head to bed,” Chloe said after a moment of comfortable silence.

Beca nodded. “Okay.” Releasing Chloe’s hand, she rubbed her palm over Chloe’s belly gently. “Night Bean.”

Chloe stood up and cast her short wave when she made it to the door, shutting it softly behind her.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #pieces

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expectingtofly · 3 years

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One Hell (Heaven?) of a Situation

2.6k

also posted on ao3

thanks to @callenofthenorth for beta-editing :)

15x20 Coda, Crack and Fluff, Jimmy and Kansas are in Heaven

I have no good explanation for this. I was in the middle of writing a "serious" coda... then the stuff about Jimmy and Kansas came out and this happened instead

Dean opened his eyes to a bright, blue sky.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, realizing he was lying on the ground outside. Sitting up, he looked around, trying to get his bearings, then everything came flooding back to him. The vamp mimes, that fucking piece of rebar, piercing pain—he looked down at himself and frowned. These were not the clothes he’d been wearing on that hunt.

“Fuck,” he said aloud as it hit him. “I’m dead.”

Getting to his feet, he stared at the building he’d ended up beside. The Roadhouse? He thought his Heaven was setting off fireworks with Sammy. Then a familiar figure stepped out onto the porch and called, “Dean!”

“Bobby?” Dean asked as he approached the porch.

“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” Bobby asked, pulling him into a hug. “Thought you had several more years in you.”

“Yeah, well, bad luck.” He really was gonna have to come up with a better story for how he got here than death by glorified rusty nail.

Pulling away from Bobby, he looked at the lit windows of the Roadhouse. Was that "Dust in the Wind" playing from inside? “What memory is this?”

“It isn’t one.” Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. “Heaven’s completely different now. Jack changed everything. Everyone’s together, we can go wherever we want, do whatever we want.” He gestured to the Roadhouse door. “Turns out that means a lot of parties inside.”

“Shit, alright.” Dean smiled. “Way to go Jack.”

“Wasn’t just his idea, though. Castiel helped.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat, or would’ve if it was still beating. He stared at Bobby, afraid he hadn’t heard him right. “Cas helped?”

Bobby grinned. “A week ago, or something like that—time passes strange here—Jack showed up and introduced himself. Brought Cas with him.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean interrupted. “A week ago? What the hell? Why didn’t Jack bring Cas down to Earth? Sammy and I, we were going crazy—” He cut himself off. He didn’t want to remember his last days on Earth. The way he and Sam had poured through books of lore, trying to find a spell, something, anything, to bring Cas back. The long, sleepless nights, the way his eyes burned as he scanned yellowed pages, the fear that they might never get Cas back, that he might never get to give Cas a reply… Even after defeating Chuck, returning to run-of-the-mill monster hunts, nothing had seemed normal. Nothing had seemed right.

“I don’t know,” Bobby said, frowning. “Cas said he had work to do here first. He’s inside—”

The words hadn’t left his mouth before Dean was wrenching open the door to the Roadhouse and rushing inside. Calls and greetings rose around him, but he couldn’t pay them any attention, too intent on scanning the room.

There, in the corner, sitting at a table near a stage where a band played. The angel he never thought he’d see again. “Cas!” Dean called and rushed forward.

A woman at the same table nudged Cas’ shoulder, and Cas turned from watching the band. His eyes met Dean’s, then widened, and a look of horror crossed over his face.

“Wait, wait!” he exclaimed, lifting his hands up in defense, and holy fuck—Dean skidded to a stop in front of the table, the words, I love you on his tongue. That was not Cas’ voice. And the man in front of him was not Cas.

He was Jimmy.

Dean stared at him, the joy and relief that had urged him forward giving way to shock and disappointment. If he’d paused for one second before running over, he would’ve realized in an instant that the man in front of him wasn’t Cas. There were several giveaways. For one, the polo shirt and khakis Jimmy was wearing. Two, his arm around the woman sitting in the chair next to him—his wife, Dean was assuming.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean managed, realizing he’d been staring with his mouth open. He shut it and tried to not look as betrayed as he felt.

“I live down the road,” Jimmy said, looking affronted. “Well, not live, because I guess we’re all dead—”

“Where’s Cas?”

“He’s, um,” Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the room. “He was here a moment ago, but I don’t know where he went.”

Dean blinked at him, then turned to scan the room. “Anyone seen Cas leave?” he called desperately. He got a mixture of noncommittal sounds and shrugs. Just his luck. The one time he was finally ready to tell Cas how he felt, and Cas was nowhere to be found.

Bobby reached his side. “I see you’ve met Jimmy. Again.”

“Yeah.” He stared at Jimmy, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “This is one hell of a situation.” Which was ironic, considering he was in Heaven right now.

“It’s not my fault!” Jimmy protested. “I wasn’t expecting Castiel to show up looking like me! Besides, I thought angels didn’t go to Heaven when they died.”

“Well, Cas is special,” Dean spluttered. “He gets to keep his vessel, I guess. And if anyone deserves to be in Heaven, it’s him.”

Tearing his eyes from the imposter, he turned to Bobby. “What the hell is going on?” he muttered. “Why is Jimmy in my Heaven?” It wasn’t that he hated the guy; it was just incredibly difficult to look at him—Jimmy having the same face as Cas and all.

“Like I said,” Bobby explained patiently, “it’s not your heaven. It’s everyone’s. Case in point, your dad has a house not five minutes from here.”

“Fuck.” Sam was gonna love that. “Wait.” He scanned the room again, slower now. There was Ellen, Jo, Mrs. Tran—fuck, he was gonna have a lot of explaining to do about Kevin. “Where’s mom?”

Bobby grimaced. “Her and John split up, pretty hairy situation. She’s doing well now, though, much better off without him. Do you know a stuck-up British guy by the name of Ketch?”

“You’re joking. Not him and mom… Together?” Bobby nodded and Dean swore under his breath. “This place isn’t what I was expecting at all.”

“If I might add,” Jimmy spoke up and Dean looked at him. “Castiel has been creating quite the disturbance since he got here. Heaven was… peaceful before him. Not so much now.”

“What’s he talking about?” Dean asked Bobby.

“Well, turns out Cas isn’t such a fan of John—”

“He nearly started a fight!” Jimmy interjected. “This is Heaven, for Heaven’s sake!”

Dean couldn’t help but grin, and Bobby returned the smile. “Come on,” he said, leading Dean away from Jimmy. “Cas will turn up soon enough. I’m sure Jack will too. There’s a lot of people here who are happy to see you.”

“Right, yeah,” Dean said, trying to hide the fact that, at the moment, the only person he wanted to see was Cas. He let Bobby lead him to the bar where Ellen smiled and waved at them. “Icarus-Borne on Wings of Steel” filled the air and he frowned. That sounded pretty good for a cover band.

He glanced at the stage and stopped in his tracks. “Is that… Kansas?”

Bobby nodded. “They all died when their tour bus crashed. I would say it’s a shame, but I’m enjoying the live music too much.”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. First Jimmy, now Kansas. Heaven was… interesting, to say the least. Overwhelming was another way to put it. If only Cas would show up, he could start to appreciate it all.

Cas? he prayed silently. I’m here, buddy. I wanna… I wanna see you. He waited for the sound of wings, but none came, and disappointment sunk in his chest.

He made his way through the Roadhouse, greeting old friends, making up a badass story for how he died—thirteen vamps, an epic car chase, and liberal use of his grenade launcher—but his smile felt forced. Where the hell was Cas? Maybe he was angry Dean had stayed silent during his love confession. In Dean’s defense, Cas had thrown a lot at him all at once. He’d been in a state of shock for days after. Even now he wasn’t completely sure he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing up.

“Jimmy,” he called, returning to the table. He caught the way Jimmy rolled his eyes before looking up at him.

“Yes?”

“Cas, he’s been alright, hasn’t he? I mean, did he, um, has he said anything about me?”

Jimmy’s eye twitched and his wife laughed. “What has he not said about you—that’s the real question,” she answered.

“He won’t shut up,” Jimmy added. He gestured to Kansas, to the bar. “All this, it’s been for you. Giving Kansas a gig here, the free, unlimited liquor. He acts like he’s designing Heaven for everyone, but it’s painfully clear it’s all for you. He even brought in the Impala, which he won’t let anyone near, by the way.”

Baby was here? Obviously. She was as good a car as cars got. Of course Cas understood that. “So, he’s not mad at me?” he pressed.

Jimmy let out an exasperated sigh and looked at his wife. “This is the nonsense I had to put up with, the whole time Castiel was possessing me.” He looked back at Dean. “No. Not that I know of. Did you two really not get together on Earth? After all this time?”

“We’ve been busy,” Dean protested. “Saving the world, defeating God—we haven’t exactly had time for heart to heart talks.” That wasn’t strictly true, but the truth wasn’t something he was proud of. All these years and he’d never worked up the courage to tell Cas how he truly felt. But now he had a second chance, if only Cas would show.

“Well, hopefully you two can talk it out soon because if I have to see Castiel stare at you longingly across the room one more time, even if it’s not through my own eyes anymore, I’m gonna request a transfer to hell.” With that, he turned back to his wife, and Dean stammered for a snarky retort. Unable to come up with one that preserved the last shreds of his dignity, he slunk away.

Joining Jo and Charlie at the bar, he listened as Charlie told him about the recent larping tournament she had organized. He paid attention, nodding and laughing at the right moments, but his eyes kept searching the room for any glimpse of a trenchcoat.

The door to the Roadhouse opened and Dean turned expectantly, his heart racing. Rufus raised a hand in greeting as he stepped inside and Dean sighed.

Please, Cas, he prayed. I have so much to tell you.

His eyes returned to Jimmy again. Same hair, same face, same eyes as Cas. But so different. So human. Cas, though… Cas was gorgeous—the way he stared at Dean so intently, the way he carried himself, the way his eyes glowed with angelic strength, such blue eyes, and his hands, holy fuck...

“For Pete’s sake!” Jimmy exclaimed and Dean startled, realizing he’d been staring for who knew how long. Jimmy jabbed his finger at a door on the back wall. “He’s hiding in there.”

“W-What…?”

Jimmy looked heavenwards—well, at the ceiling—for a long moment before meeting Dean’s eyes. “Castiel panicked when he heard you were here, something about not expecting you so soon—”

Dean stopped listening, already shoving his stool aside and rushing to the door. The doorknob didn’t budge so he knocked. “Cas? Cas, are you in there?”

A long pause, then a muffled, “Yes.”

Dean leaned closer to the door to hear better. “Cas, what the hell, man? What are you doing in there?” He waited for a response, but none came. “Cas?” he pressed, afraid the angel had flown the coop.

The door opened slowly, and Dean took a step back. Cas stood with one hand on the doorknob, an embarrassed look on his face. “Hello, Dean.”

The sound of those familiar words, in that familiar voice, made Dean weak at the knees. He forced his voice to be steady as he said, “Hi, Cas.”

Cas studied him. “You died so soon.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Yeah, sick joke, right?”

“How did it happen?” Cas started to ask, but Dean waved his hand.

“Not important. The better question is, why have you been avoiding me?” His voice faltered at a sudden fear that he wouldn’t like the answer. Maybe Cas had had too much time to think since the night he died, maybe he was regretting everything he’d said, maybe Dean’s silence had spoiled the moment—

Cas ducked his head, studying his shoes. “I wasn’t sure… I never expected to see you again. I thought my death was final. Then Jack awakened me and brought me from the Empty, and...”

“And?”

“And I wasn’t sure how you would react to my reappearance.” Cas raised his head to meet Dean’s eyes. “I said a lot of things before I died, and I don’t know how things stand between us now.”

“Then let me speak.” He glanced over his shoulder to see everyone watching them. In all the times he’d pictured this moment, he’d never imagined having an audience, let alone background music courtesy of Kansas. But he’d be damned if he went one moment longer without telling Cas the truth.

Focusing on those blue eyes again, he took a deep breath and said, “You were wrong.” Cas frowned a little and Dean continued, “You can have me. I love you, Cas—have for years now. I just never… I never knew how to say it.” Cas watched him, face serious, eyes intent. So undeniably Castiel. “I love you. So goddamn much. Please say it’s not too late. Please tell me you’re not having second thoughts.”

A smile slowly spread over Cas’s face. “It’s not too late, Dean. I’ll always love you.”

Relief rushed over Dean. Before he could think twice about it, he stepped forward, grabbed Cas’ tie, and pulled him in to kiss him. He felt Cas’ hand rise to his cheek, then Cas was kissing him back and people were cheering, but Dean ignored them all, wrapping his free arm around Cas to pull him closer.

“I thought you didn’t love me back,” Cas whispered, pushing his forehead against Dean’s when they broke apart after seconds, or maybe years. Time in Heaven was different, after all.

“I can’t believe you hid in a closet to avoid me.”

Cas laughed a little. “Not my finest moment.”

“I almost confessed my love to Jimmy; I thought he was you.”

“Oh, yes. I suspect his being here is going to cause some confusion.” Cas pulled away to frown at Jimmy over Dean’s shoulder. “And he was not supposed to tell you where I was.”

Dean laughed. “I’m just so glad you’re here.” He kissed Cas again, deeply, slipping his hands under the worn fabric of the trenchcoat. Cas’ fingers slid along his neck and in his hair. Finally, after so long...

Though his mind was spinning, he caught Jimmy’s voice rise above Kansas playing “The Wall,” “First I had to hear all of Castiel’s thoughts about Dean while he possessed me, now I have to share a Heaven with them—”

“Get a room!” Jo called. Dean waved her off as Cas pulled him into the supply room. He’d make a comment later on the irony of hiding in a closet. Right now, he nearly tripped over his feet in his haste to keep kissing Cas while fumbling to pull the door shut behind them. Time to start enjoying the afterlife.

Tag List

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @spookyskeletonsandallthezombies @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @famouspsychicpizzabandit @madronasky

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my other destiel fics or removed from the list :)

#i read so many posts about jimmy and cas in heaven #that they're all melded in my mind #but if i accidently took someone's idea and ran with it #lmk and i'll give credit where credit is due #i find this whole jimmy thing endlessly amusing #i now accept jimmy and kansas in heaven as canon #crack fic #fluff #destiel #dean and cas are idiots #expectingtofly writes

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deafwestnewsies · 3 years

Text

be my first last kiss

You can plan on a change in the weather or time, but you'd never planned on him changing his mind.

jack kelly x davey jacobs

read it on my ao3!

Earnest to goodness, Jack Kelly was going to murder Racetrack Higgins.

No, Anthony Higgins, this was the sort of thing that makes you pull out the tarnished christian name of a friend (or so you thought) you’ve known since he was toppling over on baby-fattened legs. Anthony Higgins would die by the sword of Jack Kelly.

He just had to get this godforsaken Youtube video filmed first.

You’re doing this for the cash, Jack grumbled to himself as he passed through the metal doors of a nondescript building on the Lower East Side- it was the kind of place being slowly taken over by hip and fun corporations promising Asian-fusion bars and eco-friendly thrift stores while edging out the relic businesses built on the backs of immigrant dreams. Jack couldn’t stand areas like this, the air thick with wasted luxury, so he rarely left the barrio. Why would he? Spot Conlon slept in the bedroom next to his. Katherine Plumber and Sarah Jacobs ran the bookstore that bought his baked goods and sold them for decent money. Medda lived down the street with her plethora of children, and Racetrack still beat the known path, doing tricks on the street corner for spare change and internet views. Davey- David. David Jacobs wasn’t there. It was right where Jack wanted to be.

Much unlike the dim studio where he now shuffled his feet, waiting for the perky young PA with bright red streaks in her hair to come back with further information about the video he would be shooting. Jack wasn’t a stranger to this small production company; He participated in a few Youtube videos back before they had millions of subscribers, he played truth or dare with lots of liquor and a complete stranger, he confessed about the first time he fell in love so it could be put to pathetic music.

Cash where you could get it, right?

“Kelly, right?” Cherry Streaks was back with a vengeance.

“Jack, actually,” he corrected.

“So you’re going to stand over there where the little blue X marks the spot and wait until the producer, Adam, starts asking you a few questions. The first one might be a test for our boom guy. Answer honestly, we can pretty much tell when you’re making up a story by this point. After that, the main part of the video will begin. Got it?” She was pointing wildly with a Number 2 pencil that had previously been stuck through her ponytail, and she smelled faintly of jasmine. Jack felt dizzy.

“Wait, I thought this was one of those ‘Choose who’s the best kisser out of ten strangers’ type of deal?” I mean, that’s what Race told me- oh God. Oh Santa Maria. Oh Saint Francis.

The young woman smiled like she was keeping an excellent secret. “Have fun, Jack Kelly.”

Walking off at her ominous dismissal, Jack stood where he was directed. The fluorescent lighting made him sweat under the knowledge that he had virtually no idea what he was doing there, Race had lied to him so that he would participate in some sort of sick, horrible scheme, and for all he knew, behind door number three could be his third grade teacher with a baseball bat and a basic multiplication grudge.

“Jack! It’s nice to see you again.”

Romeo was walking towards him with that easy gait Jack had memorized so long ago- Romeo had shot the original videos on an Amazon tripod and the unfounded hope of human connection, and now he owned the entire shebang. Jack dropped his tense shoulders to give him a warm smile. “Romeo. Boy, am I glad to see a friendly face.” Jack lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You’ve got a production assistant who actually does work, so I’m assuming we’ve died and you earned a really nice deal in Heaven?”

Romeo barked out a laugh. “If I’ve died, do not resuscitate. I’ll never be able to look at another bodega meatball sub after cooking food bought in a real grocery store.”

“Rub it in, why don’tcha?” Jack punched the shorter man on the shoulder. “Listen, Romeo, you gotta tell me what I’m in for, a buddy totally sold me out for the cash and I have no clue what this project is gonna be like.”

Before Romeo could respond, a tall, lofty man behind the camera cleared his throat. “Darling? We’re ready to begin when you are.”

“Jack, meet Specs. Or Adam, but we all know how well nicknames stick. Specs, this is the old friend I was telling you about.” Romeo ended right above Specs’ elbow, and it was all Jack could do not to laugh.

The man fixed his thoughtful gaze on him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. You’ve got a real presence on the camera. Have you ever considered acting?”

“I’m afraid I’m, uh,” Jack flexed a paint-stained hand. “Strictly canvas, as they say.”

Nodding as if that was a phrase people commonly used and not something Jack invented on the fly, Specs then clapped his hands together. “Folks, let’s film this sonofabitch.”

---

“I’m Jack, and I’m a twenty-four year old artist living in New York City.”

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Specs questioned from behind the camera.

Jack blinked in surprise. “Sure. One throughout high school, another in college and a little bit beyond. I wouldn’t call myself a heartbreaker or anything.”

“Do you stay friends with your exes?”

“One of ‘em, yea. It was more of an amicable thing, you know. She ended up being a lesbian. And I am… not.” His clumsy fingers tugged at a constricting collar.

“And the other?”

“Just because I’m not a heartbreaker doesn’t mean I can’t be a real asshole sometimes,” Jack nervously chuckled. (Davey had laid out rose petals, for God’s sake. Rose petals.)

“Was this girl the high school girlfriend, or the college one?”

“Boy,” Jack quickly corrected. “Man. I guess. He was in college- four and a half years.” (It took him four days to clear away the rotting flowers, the bleeding color slowly seeping into his carpet. Katherine found him delirious with whiskey on the bathroom floor; Sarah couldn’t bear to walk through his front door.)

“How’d you meet him?”

(He twisted in his high-backed blue chair. “It’s habláis in el presente.”) “Freshman year of high school actually. Spanish class. Funny story, actually, that other girl I dated? His sister. Broke her heart for his. He was so mad at me that we didn’t talk for like, months after.”

“It was six and a half months, actually.”

Of things Jack was expecting to see today, Spiderman was more likely than David. A flash mob singing death metal, maybe. Pigs flying through the polluted air.

“I was told to come in. I now see why.” David’s eyes narrowed behind his thin wire frames, different from the heavy Ray-Bans that he had dedicated himself to sophomore year of high school. Jack hated that he looked older, wiser, and all around… better.

Specs cleared his throat before the bewildered set of men (one more angry than the other, both desperately avoiding eye contact) could demand what sort of sick joke this was. “Can you introduce yourself?”

They broke up on a Tuesday, an insignificant, momentary Tuesday. Fourteen months ago. (Yes, fourteen months, like their terrible split was a baby that Jack was nurturing bit by bit. He refused to round down- fourteen months ago, he left David Jacobs.) So when David ran his thumb across his jawline, a nervous tick older than his younger brother, Jack couldn’t fathom why he felt so relieved. Some things never did change. “David. Jacobs.” David’s jaw flexed as he looked into the camera. “I dated Jack for almost five years.”

“Tell us about your other relationships.”

“Unfortunately, I spent the better part of high school and college pining after a total cocksock. Not a whole lot of time for casual dating in between.”

A deep silence permeated the studio as two boom mic operators swapped awkward glances. Jack didn’t attempt to defend himself- he was sort of a cocksock. David Jacobs had asked him to uproot what little life he had in New York and move to Santa Fe for a prestigious, so-accolated-you-could-cry medical school, and Jack Kelly broke up with him over containers of kung pao chicken and scattered rose petals. He was a cocksock, a dickhead, and complete asshole. An ex-boyfriend of mass proportions.

“Okay, so.” Specs was wiping at his glasses with the tail of his shirt. Jack wanted to snap them in half. “Today’s video is entitled ‘Exes kiss for the first time since their breakup’. If you need more explanation…”

“I think we’ve got it.” David snapped, clenching his fists rapidly.

Jack stepped half an inch closer to David and began murmuring under his breath. “Davey, if you don’t want-”

“Don’t call me Davey.” His eyes were alight with flame- Jack’s chest caught fire.

Of all the things that felt domestic when dating Davey Jacobs, kissing him never managed to become routine. Davey kissed like he earnestly meant it. The gears in his brilliant mind would grind to a halt so he could dedicate himself to the lilting curve of Jack’s mouth, a gentle sweep of warmth when the artist’s mouth was otherwise preoccupied with his needless words, and the world would spin on a delicate axis. (Jack’s shoulders rose to meet Davey, the physical ache of being someone’s other half drawing him forward. Davey had avoided him for so long, Jack living on a diet of lingering stares and a brief touch of the hand, that kissing him felt like a dying man knelt at a replenished well. How did they exist for so long without this innate knowledge of the universe? Could he stand to go on a single second longer without the praise of Davey Jacob’s lips?) Of all the things Jack missed about spending his life with Davey Jacobs, kissing him was certainly one of them.

There was a moment where the pads of Jack’s fingertips brushed the nape of David’s neck, a habit borne from the small noise it would draw from the back of his throat, and the steely corporate floor felt more like the worn carpet in the old thirty-second street apartment. Jack could feel his thready pulse with the gentle press of a thumb.

Davey was a fan of the dramatics- he would pull away from a passionate kiss in the middle of a busy New York street to stare into Jack’s eyes, foreheads gently touching and cheeks furiously blushing. Now, he simply drew back. Took a step away. Swiped at his lips with the back of his hand.

Jack felt like he was falling. (“If you ever break up with me,” Jack began. He laughed at Davey’s unexpected shudder, the honest and visceral kind. “Make it quick.”

“What about when you break up with me?” Davey peered over his glasses.

Crinkling his nose, Jack quickly answered before the other boy could detail any breakup preferences. “I’m not an idiot, Dave. ‘M not going anywhere.”)

---

He stared at the limp fifty dollars in his hand. Romeo had apologized, explaining that the people who had organized this got half the cut, and handed them both an envelope- Jack, one with “Tony Higgins” that he planned to run through his shredder, and David, one with “Sarah Jacobs,” which made Jack gawk in disbelief.

Jack didn’t want to walk away; David’s feet were shuffling against the worn pavement.

“It’s funny,” David started. “I listened to a lot of Taylor Swift to get over you.”

He winced. “Sorry?”

“Please. I know she’s been your top artist since 2013.”

(Katherine walked through a worryingly unlocked apartment door. “Is that... Begin Again? Jack, what the fuck are you doing?” She had seconds to worry about the cluster of wilted flower petals her heel had put a hole through before Sarah pointed at the pair of legs sticking out of the bathroom’s entrance.) “Yeah, okay. Fair. But… funny? Did I miss a joke?”

David closed his eyes to roll them, as he so often did when he was trying to be polite, and it hurt to be on the receiving end. “We just had our last kiss. You know, like-”

“I’m Joe Jonas?” Jack interrupted, bewildered. The semi-glare he received in return was all he needed to know- “Right. Dickhead. Listen, Dave- David, why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?”

There was a brief moment where something unrecognizable flashed over David’s face- pity? Regret? Dejection? It was quickly replaced by a soft smile tugging at the edge of his lips, his eyes glazed over with a practiced professionalism. “I’ll see you around, Jack. Have a good day.”

David turned and walked down the street, and Jack just missed the passing moment he chose to look back.

---

Comment on EXES KISS FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THEIR BREAKUP by IncredibleKinsey: those two dudes are all mad and then just make out like that????? yeah okay call me when the wedding happens

#newsies #newsies on tour #newsies on broadway #newsies live #newsies 1992 #javid #javid fanfiction #javid newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #sarah jacobs #newsbians #newsies fanfiction #javid au #my writing

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trashforhockeyguys · 4 years

Text

Don’t Hold Me -6- Carter Hart

A/N: Hey guys, I’m still alive lol. AND DHM IS FINALLY BACK!!! Buckle up my loves, things are finally starting to happen. I’m super excited for where this story is going, and I can’t wait for yall to see it all unfold!

As always, all previous parts are linked in my master list!

"Y/N, can I move yet?” Nolan asked you.

“Hang on,” You started to chew on your lip as you continued to draw, “Move your head a little to the right? Yeah! Like that, the shadows are good like that.”

“Sorry Patty, I offered to be a nude model or whatever.”

“Travis shut up. No one wants to see that.”

Travis laughed from the kitchen. For one of your classes, you had to draw a portrait of someone, unfortunately for Nolan, he’d volunteered to sit for one. Although, you knew he didn’t exactly think that this was going to take this long. He thought it would take a few minutes at most, not over an hour.

“Nolan stop laughing! I’m almost done.”

You didn’t even notice that someone else had walked in until a cup of coffee from your favorite place down the road was put in front of you. You didn’t look over your shoulder, you already knew who it was, but you couldn’t help the simple smile that crept across your face. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was there.

“Thank you.”

“Woah, she actually said two words to him,” Nolan said in sheer surprise.

“And they were nice!” Travis added.

“Shut up. Nolan I swear to god if you move one more time I will beat you with a stick.”

“That looks really good,” Carter said from behind you, ignoring what his teammates were saying.

You hummed and began to drag your pencil across the page again. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still standing behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence. A small part of your brain started to wonder what it would be like if he just wrapped his arms around you. You almost wanted it.

You tried to snap yourself out of it. But the longer he was there, the more you wanted to just be closer to him. You had no idea what was going on. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t do things like this. You didn’t need anyone else.

“For your class?” Carter asked.

“Yeah. Nolan was a better choice than Travis. At least he can sit still for more than five minutes, and be quiet.”

“Rude,” Travis mumbled.

Your body seemed to almost tingle from how close Carter was to you. You weren’t sure what was happening. You didn't do things like this. You could control everything. But this, this didn’t feel like something you could control. Your body seemed to be taking over from your head. You didn’t know how to handle this anymore. Everything seemed to be cloudy and unclear now.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, okay, done.”

“Yeah? I can eat now?” Nolan asked.

You weren’t done. You were far from done, but you needed to put space between you and Carter before you did something potentially stupid. All you could think of was getting his arms around you. You wanted to be close to him in a way that you knew was an awful idea.

“Yeah, go do whatever Nols, I can do the finishing touches without you modeling for me,” You laughed, trying to sound normal again.

He nodded and moved on. You wanted to go hide now. You wanted to get away from Carter. The buzzing tingly feeling was spreading throughout my whole body. You had no idea what was really going on. All you knew was that you were starting to feel things for Carter that you shouldn’t feel.

Everything seemed to be blurred now. There were lines you weren’t meant to cross, you knew that, but where were they? What fell into the category of things not to do? Because strangely enough, all you wanted to do now was let yourself sink into Carter’s arms, and just stay there for the rest of the day, and that’s something you absolutely couldn’t do.

You didn’t want to leave the boys behind, but you also knew that you needed to get some air before your body took over and made you do something you knew would lead to some serious trouble.

“I’m going to go get some food, does anyone want anything?”

“Just sit your little ass down, I’ll make lunch,” Travis told me, pointing to the couch.

You huffed and plopped back down onto the couch. Carter was on the other end. Too close for comfort, or maybe not close enough for your body to be comfortable. You couldn’t understand what was going on, how your body was reacting to this. You weren’t meant to like Carter Hart. You’d sworn off hockey players after the last time, that didn’t mean you could just drop everything for Carter. You wouldn’t drop everything for him. You’d figure out how to get yourself to stop feeling whatever you were feeling for him. You weren’t going to do this again.

“When do you leave for that road trip?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Nolan replied, “We’ll try not to let you get beat to hell, Carter.”

You tried to laugh with them. But the idea of any of them potentially getting hurt made your stomach twist. You hated when they went on road trips because it meant that something might happen and you wouldn’t be there. You weren’t their protector, you knew that. But them being gone also meant they wouldn’t be here for you, should you need them.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Travis said, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You forced a smile, “Maybe that’s what I’m worried about..”

“Liar,” Travis smiled sadly at you and pulled you in for a hug.

What you didn’t notice was how Carter was looking at you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should heed TK’s warning and stay away from you, all for your sake. But you had a way of drawing him in, and making him want to know more about you. He wanted to be a part of the close inner circle you’d built with TK and Patty. He couldn’t explain it, he had girls throwing themselves at him all of the time, but for some reason he wanted you.

The shy girl who hid under baggy sweatshirts and didn’t seem to notice how amazing you could truly be. Everytime he was near you he thought about the night he had to bring you back to his apartment after that stupid party.

You’d started screaming and crying in your sleep. He’d never tell you that, but he didn’t sleep on the floor of his bedroom because you were getting sick all night. It was because something was haunting you, causing you to wake up screaming. It’d scared the shit out of him.

He’d automatically called TK and begged him to tell him what to do, or tell him what happened. But TK was quick to tell him that it was your story to share, and if you ever wanted Carter to know, you’d tell him. But that didn’t stop Carter from constantly worrying about the girl in front of him.

“You said you were going to make food,” You mumbled, poking Travis’s stomach.

“So needy.”

“You’re the one who decided to call me when I moved here,” You pointed out, “Brought this on yourself.”

“Fine,” Travis sighed dramatically, “What do you guys want?”

“Pasta!” You were quick to say, “A big heaping plate of that buttered garlic pasta you make.”

Travis smacked Nolan on his way over to the kitchen, telling him that he needed help. That left you and Carter all alone. You felt uncomfortable, because you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t sure how you were meant to even talk to him.

Everything just seemed too strange to you now.

“So, how’re classes going?” Carter asked you.

You shrugged and brought your knees up to your chest, “They’re alright. I’ll be happy when the break rolls around.”

He laughed, “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the All Star break.”

You nodded. Travis and Nolan talked about how wonderful breaks were all the time. Their schedule was more than grueling, so you knew time off was more than precious for them. If they didn’t go off somewhere tropical to just relax, it was rare that they’d even leave their rooms.

Even in lower level juniors, your brother always treasured whatever time off he could get. Some of the things all of you would do during breaks were honestly astounding, and probably borderline illegal, but that was years ago.

“I’m sure.”

“You don’t really like hockey, do you?” He suddenly asked you.

“What? No! I love it.”

“Really? Sorry, you just don’t seem like it.”

You swallowed and tried to plan your reply, “No, I love it. I’ve grown up on it. It’s just my relationship with hockey is…..complicated.”

You felt like you might throw up. Having to explain it felt different. You could watch games just fine now, not that you always liked to watch in person, but you could watch them. You could talk about them, and give Travis shit for hours about things he’d done. But having to explain your reasonings for being why you were the way that you were...it seemed impossible.

He already saw you differently, you could tell by the way he looked at you. You were sure that he saw you as someone wounded and broken. You didn’t want him to have another reason to see you differently. Carter was one of the few people that didn’t know, and he didn’t need to know. You could keep him in the dark, you would keep him in the dark.

“I love hockey,” You said again, “I wouldn’t know Travis without it. I love hockey.”

“Okay,” His voice was calm, like he was trying to calm you, “Okay. I’m sorry I asked.”

You tried to blink away the burning feeling in your eyes. You weren’t going to cry. You weren’t going to show how much pain that simple question brought on. Your stomach churned and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

“I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”

However, rather than going to the hall bathroom, like you normally would. You quickly made your way back into Travis’s bathroom, far enough away from the living room that you wouldn’t be heard. Especially over the sound of Travis and Nolan in the kitchen, and the music they’d put on.

Without having a chance to try to stop it, you hunched over the toilet and threw up. You were shaking and crying. A simple question, one that no one else would’ve thought twice about. Any normal person would have a smile yes or no answer. You couldn’t answer simply though. Not without opening a door to something you liked to keep locked away.

You loved hockey….you just didn’t love what hockey had done to you.

#carter hart imagine #carter hart imagines #carter hart fanfic #carter hart fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fan fiction #hockey fanfiction #flyers imagines #flyers fanfic #flyers fanfiction #flyers imagine #nicolewritesthings

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tendertenebrosity · 3 years

Text

Next instalment of TJ and Danny’s story, set in @wildfaewhump‘s Pathverse! Direct sequel to here , you should go read that first! Masterpost can be found here.

Danny took the next exit, without even bothering to read the signs. It wasn’t as if he had a goal in mind, not anymore – if he couldn’t go to Julie’s Agency there was no point driving to her city.

He was going to have to stop soon and decide what to do. But if he just kept driving, he could put off needing to make that call for just a little longer.

The outskirts of the city slid by his window. He tried to just drive, thinking as little as possible. Trying to keep his grip on the wheel steady but not white-knuckled, trying not to let his breathing speed up and up and up until he was leaning forward in his seat and accidentally roaring along at 20 over the speed limit.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What was he going to do?

You’re really in the shit now, Danny, he told himself. Why did you call her? Why did you think she’d understand? Before this last year, before this endless slog through court case after violent court case, melt-downs and seizures, hospitalisations and Class-A memory ‘treatments’, picking right back up and going to work again afterwards, watching TJ get thinner and shakier and more threadbare every week without ever being capable of understanding why but still quieting under Danny’s touch like it actually meant something…

Danny wouldn’t’ve understood either.

He flicked the radio on, blaring voices spouting something inane. He jumped stations a few times, looking for something with music. He found something that sounded like country, listened to that for a minute or two, before flicking it off again in annoyance.

Of course Julie didn’t understand, because this was flat-out crazy, and Danny knew it. He didn’t know how it had come to this. What had he been thinking? What did he think he was achieving? This had been a mistake, from start to finish.

“Um. Handler? Danny?”

The white line on the road jerked and veered wildly in front of Danny as he swore, curbing the impulse to whip around and look behind him.

Fucking hell. Keep it together enough to drive, will you?

He spared a glance in the mirror. Sure enough, the Path was sitting up, looking small and hunched and incongruously clean in the grubby back seat of Danny’s old car. His thin pale fingers clutched at the black seatbelt.

“Jesus, kid,” Danny snapped.

“Sorry,” TJ whispered. “Sorry, I’ll – I’ll be quiet, I’m sorry...”

“No, I - ” Danny breathed out heavily through his nose, made his hands relax on the wheel. The way TJ was lately, Danny couldn’t raise his voice without the poor sod thinking he’d done something wrong. The way he cringed from the nurses, from other handlers, from Danny himself sometimes - it made Danny think hard, vicious things about whoever had been assigned to him before.

How could I have just gone on to the next job and left him there?

He tried to make his voice light. “No, kid, not your fault,” he said. “You just, uh, startled me. Didn’t mean to wake you, we’re hours away from where we’re going yet.” For God’s sake don’t ask me where that is, I don’t fucking know.

“I was awake,” the Path said, a wispy thread of voice from the backseat. “Um. Danny?”

Danny grunted to show he was listening.

“Are you really stealing me?”

Damn it.

“How much did you hear of that?” Danny asked, his stomach sinking. He’d thought TJ was safely asleep. Idiot.

“Um. All of it,” TJ said. “You said – Danny, you said – why do you think someone’s going to kill me?”

“I – well, because…” This was stupid. Why was Danny floundering for words in front of a Path? Danny could only catch the occasional glimpse of the Path in his mirror, and blindfolded TJ wasn’t capable of looking at anything, but still he had to fight back the feeling that TJ was looking at him accusingly.

“Because you’re sick,” he settled on eventually. He blinked hard at the wavering road in front of him, resettled his grip on the steering wheel. “And… and you’ll get better if you have time, TJ, but they don’t want to give you that time. Because it isn’t… ” The end of the sentence died in his throat. Because everyone’s too busy. Because there’s a contract. Because you’re not important enough.

Because it isn’t cost-efficient.

“Did they tell you that?”

“No,” Danny said. “I just… I can see how it’s going to go. That’s all.”

“Oh.” TJ’s voice was thin, quiet. He shifted, overlarge scrubs rustling. “So… so that’s why you’re stealing me?”

Danny winced. “I’m not – TJ, stop saying that. I’m taking you to a different Agency where you’ll be taken care of properly. It’ll all be okay, all right?”

Danny wished the Path hadn’t overheard. He wished this conversation could have held off until they’d stopped; he couldn’t assess the Path’s body language. Fuck, Julie had said that word, described this as ‘stealing’, and maybe now it had stuck in TJ’s head.

He wondered what the hell went on in that head sometimes; how did a Path see the world? Not how normal people did, clearly. Obviously a Path wasn’t really capable of understanding right and wrong, and the law, and morality. But... TJ had seemed to understand a lot of the things he’d read for the court. He definitely understood what ‘stealing’ meant.

Danny was half waiting for TJ to challenge him on it. They’d worked a case a few weeks ago, theft of a car and some power tools – perhaps TJ was now going to ask Danny what made this any different, why they’d helped send that person to jail but now Danny was taking off with Agency property.

Danny sighed. No, you idiot, he thought, exasperated with himself. Poor fucking kid’s probably a bit preoccupied with the whole ‘they’ll kill you’ thing. Pull your head out of your ass.

In the end TJ said neither of those things, though.

“You’re still going to be in… in a lot of trouble,” he said instead.

Danny laughed, a harsh, coughing noise that surprised him. “Yeah, kid, probably.”

“What if you can’t find another Agency?” TJ sounded calm, reasonable.

Danny resisted the urge to swear. It’s a good fucking question, isn’t it? “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s… it’ll be fine. It’s not your problem to worry about, kid, so just - ”

Danny’s phone rang.

The sound filled up the car, irritatingly cheerful electronic trilling. Danny knew who that would be; didn’t even need to look at the display. TJ subsided into silence. Danny drummed his gloved fingers on the wheel, gritted his teeth, wished he had a cigarette or a coffee or fucking something to calm himself down with.

If Danny really intended to make a run for it, he ought to throw that phone out the window and keep on driving, he knew. People could track you with those things.

But keep on driving to where? In the end, Danny didn’t have any real idea what he was doing. And the only one around to talk to in this car was a Path.

So he took a hand off the wheel and hit the button that answered the phone.

“Danny,” Julie said, her voice filled with relief. “Thanks for picking up.”

Danny made a noncommittal noise.

“Danny, where are you?”

He glanced around. Danny hadn’t driven in this area much; he didn’t know what the street was called, or even really what suburb he was in. Not much in the way of signs to help him out, either. But did that matter? He might have answered the phone, but Danny wasn’t at the point where he was willing to give Julie either of those things.

“You’re sending people out after me,” he accused her. “The cops, or, or an Agency acquisition van.”

“Danny, I want to help you, I - ”

“If you wanted to help me you could have heard me out,” he snapped. “But you’re not going to, I can fucking tell.”

“Hey, you’re the one who hung up on me, remember?”

“Yeah, cause you weren’t listening to me!” Danny said. The scenery sped by, a patchwork of industrial-looking squat concrete blocks of buildings and what looked to be neglected empty land, filled with scrubby trees and patchy fields that were more weeds than grass. He tried to keep his voice down, keep calm, but it grated and wobbled in his ears regardless. “You didn’t have any intention of helping me with TJ, you just lied to me to shut me up when you said you would fix it.”

Julie was better at lying than she’d been before, but the seam was still visible to Danny. The point where she had just started agreeing with anything he said in an attempt to get him to do what she wanted.

“No, Danny,” she protested. “Look, Danny, I just – I don’t know this Path, okay, I don’t know what your situation is, but I want to help you. So if you want to talk about the Path, okay, let’s talk. I’m listening.”

“Talk about….” Danny glanced up to the mirror. At TJ still sitting there, turning his head this way and that. Making Danny think vaguely of a baby bird, head too big for its little neck. Listening to everything they were both saying. “Look, he’s not dangerous or anything.”

“Okay. Danny, is… is TJ…” Julie’s voice hushed, suddenly, as if she was talking about something obscene. “Danny, are we talking about the child of someone you know? Or your child? Because…”

“Wh- No!” Danny yelped. He took his eyes off the road to gape, horrified, at Julie’s name on the display for a moment. The car wavered underneath him and he dragged his eyes back up.

That was… a thought. Jesus Christ. It had somehow never occurred to him. Danny wasn’t anywhere near the point in his life where he’d be contemplating babies, but even so – even so – how had he never thought of that? That if he did, there was a non-zero chance they might be…

“I’m talking about an adult Path,” he said, to Julie, forcefully. “Not a child. He’s not related to me in any form. He’s my Path from work, just a regular assigned… fuck, you know what I mean!”

“Uh huh,” Julie said cautiously. She sounded relieved; papers shuffled again, and Danny suspected he could hear her typing something. “All right. What class is he?”

Danny let out a breath, trying to calm down. “E,” he said. “We worked in, um, Criminal Justice. The courtroom mostly, sometimes the police station.” He chewed his lip, considered and rejected two or three different sentence beginnings. “It’s fucking hard work, OK? It’s difficult, the readings are always long, and it’s bloody dark stuff sometimes, and they never….”

“Class E? OK,” Julie said, gently. “Where is, um, TJ now, Danny?”

“He’s here,” Danny said, exasperated. “I can see him right now, okay, he’s still got his blindfold on and he’s in the back seat and he’s not causing any trouble. He’s never caused any trouble, even though he’s been treated like shit.”

“He’s in the back? He can’t touch you?”

“What? No?” Danny glanced in the mirror. Still just a puzzled TJ, seatbelt done up, eyes covered, hands in his lap.

“Okay, good.” Julie started speaking rapidly, urgently. “Danny, I really really need you to pull up by the road and wait for me. Okay? You’re not going to understand why, but we did this in training, right, so I need you to trust me. You’re probably confused and that’s okay…”

“What?”

“Danny, you know that Paths can affect people’s minds - ”

“You think he got to me? You think that’s what this is about?” Danny shook his head, bottling up the stream of swearwords that wanted to escape. Julie thought that TJ was somehow making Danny do this? TJ, visibly upset by the change in routine, shaking and frightened at getting into a slightly different car, who’d been in a hospital bed with tubes everywhere and dried blood all over his face just a week ago? “You’re wrong. Dead wrong. How would that even - ”

“I know that what you’re doing probably makes perfect sense to you now,” Julie interrupted, her voice somehow managing to be both soothing and urgent. “You just have to trust me that it doesn’t, Danny, okay? You can’t rely on your instincts now.”

“Fuck’s sake, Julie - ”

“Nothing is the way it seems. It’s not your fault. You’re in the presence of a Path; they get into your head, they can make you think or feel whatever they - ”

Danny growled in frustration. He hauled on the steering wheel, hand over hand awkwardly, to navigate a turn. “Julie, cut the crap! Trying your scaremongering bullshit on me like I’m some clueless layperson? He never fucking touched me, and he’s fucking E, he’s not even capable of that!”

“Danny, you may not know as much about him as you think you do,” Julie insisted. Some of the cool soothing quality frayed away from her voice. “Come on! I know it’s hard but think. You know why we take the precautions we do, you know the damage that can be done! It’s not your fault, you’re confused. Once you tell me where you are - ”

“I’m not confused,”Danny snapped. He felt sick. If this was what Julie thought, there was no chance of this turning out all right. Not within any Agency. It didn’t make sense but had that ever mattered to Agency management? “I’ve never been confused.”

“- once I know where you are I can help you, okay? We can sort it all out, for you and TJ both, it will all - ”

“Sort it out!” Danny snarled. “Oh, yeah, sure you fucking will! I know how you’ll sort TJ out!”

“Danny - ”

“This is bullshit! I’m not going back to your goddamn cold-blooded, two-faced – uh- ”

Danny caught his breath. The metal barrier that lined the road, painted with yellow chevrons, was coming up fast – way too fast.

Fuck, there was a turn, he hadn’t seen -

He slammed his foot onto the brake pedal and wrenched the wheel to the left; metal grated and squealed in protest. The car was sliding – Danny’s seatbelt was digging painfully into his ribs as the world swung back and forth violently, and he realised in the half-second he had that the car was fish-tailing as it hurtled towards the metal barrier and the downward slope that lay beyond.

Somewhere in the background, Julie’s voice was asking something, pitched high with concern, but it was drowned out by the screeching of tires and the sound of TJ’s frightened yell from the backseat.

Danny’s car hit the barrier, and the world rolled over and over on itself in a sickening whirl that ended with a metallic crunch.

#Path Verse #TJ and Danny #Julie #sympathetic whumper #whumper to caretaker #institutionalised dehumanisation #foul language #blindfolded #reckless driving #tw: car accident #forced to work #escape attempt #cliffhanger ending

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