#but to start dating two months after her death when they were married 30 years is just so unbelievably disrespectful

[ugly-lizard-crab-thing]

My dad started dating again and it's only been two months. I don't know if I can forgive him for this one

#being abroad during my mom's final weeks? he didn't know she was dying. i forgave him #telling her she was fine and nothing was wrong while cancer was spreading rapidly throughout her entire body and then leaving for a solo #vacation abroad after being burnt out from his father dying and supporting his wife through diagnosis chemo treatments and surgery? #i forgave him. he couldn't know. it was just too soon and a bad decision. #but to start dating two months after her death when they were married 30 years is just so unbelievably disrespectful #lizard nonsense #therapy is gonna be something on monday #delete later

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Never Say Never

Chapter 20

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 3.5K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Two Years Later

Indianapolis in the summer was hot and humid. You tugged at the cotton of your shirt, pulling the material away from your wet, sticky body. All you wanted right now was to lie on your couch, your feet propped up, enjoying the air conditioning and an iced coffee. But coffee was limited to you these days and decaf just didn’t bring the same joy. What was the point? And no matter what anyone said, it did not taste the same.

The bookstore was packed with people, the air conditioner not doing much amidst the radiating body heat of the crowd, books cradled in their arms, waiting to meet the author. Mike sat at a table in the center, smiling up at a customer as he signed the copy of his latest book, Paladin of the Dead Kingdom, a sequel to his debut novel which had raced up the charts to number one on the New York Times bestseller list, shocking everyone but probably him mostly. 

Releasing a long slow breath, you pressed your hand against the base of your back in an attempt to soothe the ache that had settled low in your spine. Rolling your shoulders, you moved forward, continuing to browse the selection of books on the shelf in front of you. With as much time as you'd been spending with your feet up every night, you'd been getting a lot of reading done. A few new additions to your quickly dwindling pile would be good.

Your fingers trailed over the spines as you read, waiting for something to catch your eye, the sun shining in the window hitting the diamond on your left hand with a shimmering sparkle. A soft smile crossed your lips as you flashed back to last year, you and Steve under a trellis of flowers that the girls had put together in your backyard. 

It had been a small ceremony, held on the anniversary of the day you had met each other the previous year. Your closest family and friends had gathered around as you vowed to love each other until death parted you. A slight twinge of panic had raced up your spine at those words but you had pushed it down, refusing to believe that life could be that cruel twice. No. You had been lucky enough to find him and you would be allowed to keep him. You had to believe that.

Everything with the two of you had moved pretty fast. You'd bought your house, with the wraparound porch you’d always dreamed of and the pool in the backyard that you couldn’t get the boys out of during the summer, only a few months after meeting. Steve had proposed two months after that. Seven months later you were married. From first sighting to wedding rings in the span of a year but you wouldn’t change a single thing. It didn’t matter how quickly it moved when you were certain you’d found the one that was meant for you.

“Mike is eating all this attention up,” El groaned, approaching with little Max on her hip. He’d just turned one last week and you could not get enough of his full little cheeks, dimples appearing as he grinned widely at you, drool slipping out of his mouth as he chewed at the teether El was trying to soothe him with. “But I’m so proud of him. He never thought his book would go anywhere, let alone be an instant bestseller.”

“Yeah. Well, there’s a lot of nerds in the world,” Dustin said, stepping up and holding out his arms. Baby Max leapt right into them. “The nerds far outnumber the non-nerds and he wrote something that appealed to every single one of them. Didn’t he, Max?” He grinned, bouncing his hip, Max giggling. “That’s right. Daddy did good. Huh, Max?”

“While I appreciate you naming your child after me,” Max interrupted, leaning against the side of the bookcase. “It is highly creepy to hear Dustin say my name in that baby voice.”

“Oh, Auntie Max is such a downer, isn’t she? She’s as grouchy as Oscar. We just need to find her a trash can,” Dustin cooed. “Come on little Max. I saw some cookies on the table in the back. Let’s get you one.”

“Dustin, not too much sugar, please,” El called but he was already gone and she sighed, tossing her hands in the air. “He’s going to let him have way too many cookies, isn’t he?”

“Oh yeah,” you grinned. “Not to mention punch. There’s fruit punch back there and cupcakes. Max will be all sugared up.”

“Great. At least the hotel has a pool. He can swim it out before bed.”

Robin and June walked up, hand in hand, and you smiled. Sometime within the last year, Robin has stopped being so self conscious about being affectionate with her girlfriend in public. She’d stopped worrying about what other people thought or what their reaction would be. She just let herself be happy. Even better, the two hadn’t encountered too much ignorance, choosing to ignore the side eyes or wrinkled noses. If anyone had anything to say, you would be more than happy to put them in their place.

Robin had moved out of her apartment when the lease was up last August and moved in with June. The two were now running the coffee shop together. Business was booming with all of Robin’s ideas. They had things going on every single night and the town was eager to come in, not only for the coffee and sandwiches anymore, but for all the extras. People waited anxiously to hear what the next read was for book club or to see the sign advertising what new musician would be playing. Local artists and poets signed up on a waiting list that was six months long to be able to come in and feature their work. 

“This is one hell of a turnout,” June commented, eyes wide as she took in the crowd packed into the bookstore. 

“Isn’t it amazing? It really means a lot to Mike that you all came to support him,” El told them with a smile. 

“Of course we did,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy walking up. “Plus, it gave us a nice little getaway. We’re all going to take the boys to the Indianapolis Zoo tomorrow and to a baseball game on Sunday. They can’t wait. Jere is so excited to see his first professional game.”

Nancy laughed, “Well, the guys are going to take the boys to the baseball game. Y/N and I have appointments at the spa.”

You smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply, “You have no idea how much I am looking forward to that. My feet could use some serious pampering right now.”

“Everything could use some pampering right about now,” Nancy said, waving her hand up and down to indicate your whole body. “Why do you think Steve booked it?”

Every time you thought Steve couldn’t get anymore perfect, he managed to prove you wrong, to do something to surprise you. When talk of this trip to support Mike’s book release came up, he’d instantly suggested you should turn it into a little vacation for all of you. You were all for the idea, excited to show him the Indianapolis Zoo that you’d enjoyed so much five years ago when Justin had brought you. You fully intended on replacing your broken coffee mug on this trip. 

Then last week, he dropped a brochure on your lap. It was for a spa in the city. He’d booked you the Ultimate Package. It included a massage, a facial, manicure, pedicure, a hair wash, and style. You’d argued with him, telling him it was too much, but he’d insisted. Then he’d tempted you even more by telling you that Nancy was going with you. 

You and Nancy had grown exceptionally close over the last couple of years. The woman you’d been so terrified of had turned out to be one of the most exceptional people you’d ever met. She’d welcomed you into their little family from the moment she’d met you and she had supported you and Steve every step of the way. Janice had been your maid of honor but Nancy had stood right next to her, a beautiful bridesmaid, her eyes shining with tears of joy as you and Steve had promised to love one another forever. 

The bell above the door rang lightly, barely heard over the chatter of conversation within the four walls. Eli and Jeremiah came racing in, darting straight for their moms, red faced, shiny with sweat, and beaming from ear to ear. 

“We pet a dog!” Eli yelled. “He was so big, mommy, like way bigger than me. Even bigger than Miles!”

Steve trailed behind them, clearly out of breath from trying to keep up with the boys. He stopped in front of you, hands on his hips, chest rising and falling deeply. 

“Great Dane,” he muttered. 

He’d offered to take the boys for a walk to get them out of everybody’s hair for a minute. They had been bursting with energy and sitting or standing nicely in the bookshop was not cutting it at the moment. You had been nervous they were going to cause a commotion if they didn’t get out of there for a bit.

“And we went to a playground!” Jeremiah added. “You should have seen it! It had everything and the monkey bars were so high but I did them anyway! I wasn’t even scared!”

“Yeah! And they had this swing that two people could sit on! It was like a circle and we sat on it and Daddy pushed us and we went so high!” Eli yelled.

“Wow, that’s incredible,” Jonathan replied, leaning down, hands on his knees. “How about we go get you both a cookie and some punch and you can pick out a book and sit and rest for a bit. I bet you could use some rest after all that excitement.”

“I sure could,” grumbled Steve, but his smile didn’t match his tone. The man might grumble and moan but he loved those boys with everything he had. And nothing made him happier than spending time with them. 

“Aww,” you cooed, running your fingers through his hair, damp at the base of his neck from the heat and exertion, “did the boys wear you out, baby?”

“A bit,” he nodded. “They never stop, those two. They just have endless energy. I wish I could bottle up a fraction of it. It’s hard keeping up with them.”

“Well, you better get to training then,” Nancy teased, her eyes dropping to your stomach and then back up to Steve. “You’ve only got a couple months to get ready for an all new one. You think they’re exhausting now, do you remember Jeremiah at one and two and three?”

Yes, Eli was getting the sibling that you had always hoped for him to have but hadn’t expected to happen. After you were married, you had stopped birth control, the two of you deciding that if it happened, it happened. You weren’t stressing it. You would be content either way but when you realized in February that your period was a month late and that stick had shown two pink lines, you'd both been elated. 

The idea of a little person that was a mixture of the two of you, a living, breathing testament to the love you shared, filled you both with more joy than you'd expected. It felt like a symbol of not only your relationship, but the blending of your two families into one. Beautiful splashes of color that collided to create the most beautiful piece of art. Because there was no doubt in your mind that this baby would be beautiful, especially if she got her dad’s lashes and that head of full, thick hair. 

“Have you guys finally picked out a name?” questioned Robin for what had to be the twentieth time. “You know, I keep telling you that Robin is a pretty great name.”

“I would offer up Max but that’s already taken,” the red head shrugged. “Not that you couldn’t also name your child after me. I mean, I am obviously the coolest one here.”

El laughed, “While I agree, it would be very challenging to have two little ones running around with the same name. It’s already hard with you and my son.”

“Besides, Robin is the obvious choice,” Robin cut in.

“Why is Robin the obvious choice? Why not June?” her girlfriend asked. “I think it’s a very pretty name.”

“It’s a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl,” Robin said, “but I have been friends with Steve for fourteen years.”

“Well, if we’re going by the longest time knowing someone, then I should win,” Nancy argued. “I’ve known Steve for sixteen years and I am the mother of his other child. I think that gives me bonus points. Maybe the baby should be called Nancy.”

“I don’t know that Jere would want his little sister to be named the same thing as his mom,” Steve mused. 

“Why not? Guys name their kids after themselves all the time.”

“While that is true,” you began, cutting off the conversation, “we have already settled on a name. She will be Peyton Robin Harrington.”

“Ohh!” El’s eyes went wide, her hands clasped to her chest. “I love Peyton. That’s such a cute name.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t lend itself to any weird nicknames,” Steve said, his arms coming around you, hands covering your round belly. “That was one of my biggest concerns. I didn’t want to pick anything that could be turned into something awful.”

“Like Pey?” offered Lucas, earning a glare from Steve.

“Oh! Peyday!” Max grinned.

“Or PeyPey,” teased Robin.

Nancy snorted, “How about Ton? Come here little Ton!”

“You all suck,” Steve snapped, rolling his eyes. “None of you will be calling my beautiful little girl any of those awful names.”

“I don’t know,” you joked. “Peyday has a certain ring to it.”

“Don’t you start, too,” groaned Steve.

“Oh! Or Peycheck!” 

“Honey, seriously…”

“Peyroll! No! I got it. Peypaya.”

Steve’s hands rested on his hips, his face so unamused that you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You guys are so funny. Leave my daughter alone.”

“Hey,” you protested, winding your arms around his waist, feeling him melt against you, his hands leaving his hips to come around you. “She’s my daughter too.”

“So stop trying to start off her life by traumatizing her. She’ll never live down a name like Peypaya.”

“While I think Robin should have been her first name, I guess I am willing to accept the middle name,” the blond huffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s still a little recognition of how neither of you could function without me.”

“We really couldn’t,” you agreed. “I mean, who would keep this one in line for me?” You nodded your head toward Steve and he snorted, shaking his head. 

“Seriously. This dingus thought doing the whole baby room without you as a surprise while you were visiting your parents would be a good idea.”

“Hey! I thought it would be nice for her to come home to a finished nursery. I was just trying to save my wife from extra work.”

“Yeah and then she wouldn’t have had a say in any of it. She would have smiled and thanked you and secretly hated it every single time she walked into the room and it wasn’t what she’d envisioned,” Max told him. “Robin was right. You cannot do home renovations without your wife’s opinion.”

“I asked Janice for input. She knows her better than anyone.”

It was true. Janice knew exactly what you would want. The sage green nursery, photos of zoo animals that your friend had taken for you adorning the walls, soft pastel orange bedding and pillows, cuddly stuffed animals propped throughout. It was perfect and Janice would have guided Steve to do exactly that.

The two of you had been ecstatic when you'd found out that you were having a girl. Janice’s daughter, Olive, was only eighteen months so the girls would be close in age. Both of you hoped your girls would be just as inseparable as their moms were, a built in life-long friend. 

Max relented, “Okay. I mean, asking her best friend was a solid plan. If anyone would know what she wanted, it was her.”

“Exactly and what she told me is exactly what my wife wanted anyway. I could have done it and then she wouldn’t have had to stress.”

“Either way, the nursery is perfect. The boys had the best time helping us get everything ready. They even each picked out an animal for the room. Eli wanted an elephant because it starts with ‘e’ and Jeremiah went with giraffe because it has the same sound as his name, even if the letters are different. His words, not mine.” You laughed, remembering how excited the boys had been running through the baby store, helping you pick out things for the room. 

“They were a little bummed that we didn’t go with a superhero theme,” Steve added.

“Well, of course,” chuckled Lucas. “What little girl wouldn’t want Batman and Superman?”

Max shrugged, “I mean, you could have gone with Catwoman and Wonder Woman. That would have been pretty kickass.”

Mike stumbled over into their aisle, looking exhausted but happy, a wide smile stretching his face. He leaned down to kiss El and then dropped down to the floor dramatically in front of the bookshelf. 

“My hand is going to wither and fall off,” he groaned, shaking his fingers. “I don’t even know how many books I signed.”

“Oh please. You love it,” Lucas told him. 

Mike grinned, “I do. I never thought this would actually be me. I mean, nothing Mike Wheeler, kid who was picked on by the assholes all through school, now a bestselling author. People actually line up just to meet me and get me to slap my signature on something I wrote. It’s insane, man, but so damn cool.”

“Dada!”

Little Max came racing over, Dustin rushing behind him, clearly having lost control of the situation. The little guy flung himself into Mike’s open arms and the guy who’d looked terrified at the thought of being a father, scooped him up, kissing the top of his hair that was the shade of midnight, just like his dad’s. 

“Hey buddy.”

Max held up the cookie he currently had in his hand, the whole thing a mushy wet mess from where he’d been gnawing at it. He tried to put it in Mike’s mouth and he grimaced, shaking his head. 

“No thank you. That’s Max’s cookie. You eat it, buddy.”

“And how many cookies is that, Dustin?” inquired El, the girl already having the mom look down, currently giving it to Dustin. 

The boy shrugged, curls spilling out from under his ballcap, “I don’t know. Not too many…I mean…” He ran his hand over his mouth, mumbling, “Four.”

“Four! Did you say four?” El groaned, her head dropping back. “Dustin, seriously. I am going to make you deal with him when he’s running up and down the hallways of the hotel and refusing to go to sleep.”

“Okay. I don’t mind hanging out with the little dude.”

El’s eyes rolled up into her head as the adult Max patted her shoulder gently.

“Well, while he’s had four cookies, I’ve had nothing for the last three hours and I am starving,” Mike announced, one arm around his son as he rose up to his feet. “What do you all say we head out and get some dinner?”

“You buying?” asked Nancy. 

“Yeah, with that big advance, you can afford it, right?” Lucas agreed. 

Robin placed an arm on his shoulder, grinning, “Mr. Big Bucks over here these days.”

“Oh! If Mike’s buying, I am getting all the drinks,” June said. 

“And dessert,” Max added. “Maybe we should order every dessert on the menu. You know, so we can taste everything.” 

“Don’t forget appetizers,” Will stated.

Nolan nodded, “Yeah. I love to taste test things at other restaurants. Give me ideas for new recipes. I bet we could manage to order one of everything on the menu, for research, you know?”

“You guys are jerks,” Mike huffed.

“What, with that fancy Range Rover you drive now, I assumed you must have lots of expendable cash,” Jonathan said as he and the boys joined them. 

“I mean, I’m doing okay,” Mike shrugged, his ears turning bright red. “I wouldn’t say I’m rolling in cash but I can buy dinner.”

They all whooped and cheered, heading out of the bookshop and onto the streets of Indy. 

“But not one of everything on the menu!” he yelled after them.

“What?” Robin bellowed. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

“Yeah!” Lucas yelled. “Too busy imagining all the food I’m going to eat!”

Steve rolled his eyes at the group, his arm coming around your shoulder as you trailed behind everybody. His mouth dropped to your ear, lips brushing over the tender skin as he whispered, “Regretting getting mixed up with this crew? Rethinking your choices?”

“Never,” you said, and you meant it, because this guy right here and everyone that came along with him were the best choice you’d ever made. Two years ago you’d said you would never find something this amazing again. But never say never.

Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox @angelbabyivy @the-fairy-anon @loritate7311 @k-k0129 @antiquecultist

And this brings this story to an end. Endings are always bittersweet for me. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️

#dad steve harrington #steve harrington #singledad!steveharrington #steve harrington single dad #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #fluff #smut #fluff and smut #romance #second chance romance #second chance at love #widow #divorced dad steve harrington #slow burn #robin buckley #robin and steve #dustin henderson #max mayfield #mike wheeler #eleven hopper

[aita-blorbos]

(Long story, au so far removed from canon it might as well be ocs at this point)

AITA for cheating on my wife?

(TW child abuse, religious trauma/abuse, homophobia, death of a child, cancer)

I (34M) have been married to my wife, L (35F) for 15 years. We got married shortly after I turned 18, because that is the norm in the church we both grew up in. L has been my best friend since I was very young, we have always been part of a group within our church of people around our ages (currently 30-36, three other men and two other women). Our church is extremely conservative and restrictive, best described as a fundamentalist evangelical Christian church, and extremely tight-knit and small. I was born into it, as were most members of the church, and because of how close everyone is, there's very much an attitude of "us vs the outside world."

The home I grew up in was worse than miserable. My mother joined the church as a teenager, which is not very common, and married my father barely a few years later, as soon as she turned 18. My father is nine years older than her, and a piece of shit. Neither of them are good parents, but my father was extremely abusive to her and to his children for as long as I can remember. My mother was also abusive to myself and my little sister, but never to the physical extent that my father was, she tended much more towards emotional abuse. This is relevant because one of the reasons L became my best friend, and one of the reasons our whole group means so much to me, is that they listened to me when I said the way my parents treated us was far beyond the norm, even for other families that believed in the idea of "spare the rod, spoil the child." Every child in our church was spanked or sent to bed hungry, but not every child was held home "sick" from school for a week to hide the evidence of how bad things got when their father had a bad day at work. Whenever I tried to tell anybody who had actual power about the way my sister and I were being treated, I was brushed off as a kid who didn't understand consequences. L never did that, and neither did anybody else in our group.

My sister was born when I was eight. Her name was Kayla. When I was fifteen and she was seven, she was diagnosed with leukemia. When I was sixteen and she was eight, she passed away. L and our other friends were my rocks during that time, as my home life only got worse as my parents fed off the sympathy of others and took out their financial stress from the medical bills on me. This was when L and I first discussed the possibility of marriage once we were both eighteen and sort of started seeing each other. I say sort of because it wasn't like we dated, exactly, as boys and girls were pretty heavily discouraged from spending one-on-one time together, and things didn't really change that much between us, or in the dynamic of our group, which at that time was much smaller because a four year age gap is much larger at 12 and 16 than it is now, when the youngest of our friend group is 30 and the oldest is 36. We just knew that we were planning on getting married, and a few months before my eighteenth birthday, we talked to her parents, my parents, and the pastor of our church, and everybody agreed that we would get married once I graduated high school, a few months after I turned 18. Then I would go to college, law school, everything I had always planned to do to start a career to support my eventual family, and once I had settled into a career, she would be the housewife she had always expected to be.

Before I get to the next part of the story, let me make something extremely clear. I love L. I have loved her since we were children, and I will love her until the day I die, no matter what happens. It's a fact about me that I will never escape because she was there for me and made sure I knew that I was loved in the worst times and moments of my life, and that means everything to me.

However, that love has never been romantic.

I realized that I was gay when I was 12 years old. It was an extremely traumatic realization for me; I was physically sick to my stomach for days and experienced some of the only true panic attacks I've ever had in the days after that. I didn't tell anybody because, as you might imagine, the attitude towards gay people in our church is not exactly friendly. Quite the opposite, in fact. I knew that if I told anybody, even my best friends or the pastor of our church, that I would be an outcast and treated like garbage. I hated myself, and I was convinced that if I was a good enough Christian, God would take the burden of homosexuality away from me and make me straight like I knew I should be. I prayed for so long that my knees bled from kneeling, and I threw myself into the church like never before. I led youth groups and bible studies, volunteered to teach Sunday school, I went to both Sunday services and the mid-week service every week, I was in my pastor's office asking questions and discussing theology constantly, and still, I never had any interest in any girls and couldn't stop the random thoughts about boys from popping into my head. Puberty only made things worse.

By the time my sister died, I had convinced myself that if I found the right woman, I would eventually love her the way I was supposed to. Something in me shattered when Kayla died, and as L supported me through it, I decided that she would be the woman I loved and married.

It didn't work like that. Obviously. A few years ago, after more than a decade of marriage and still the constant prayers and begging God to "fix" me, my faith slowly died. Looking back, I almost can't believe how long it took for me to realize that if God couldn't protect me from my parents, and couldn't heal my sister, and couldn't "fix" my sexuality, then why was I spending so much of my time and effort worshipping him? Once the resentment took hold, I slowly stopped believing in everything I had been taught since I was a kid. I had always been very good at compartmentalizing, keeping the church and my faith and beliefs completely separate from the "worldly" knowledge I needed as a lawyer and to get through school. Even when I was in college and law school, there was this constant caveat of "I need to know this (ie evolution) to get a passing grade, but I know the Truth as it's found in God's word." As I very slowly started questioning things, that dichotomy started to break down in my head. If I believed in DNA, which had been proven by science, why shouldn't I believe in evolution, which was also supported by science? If I can trust archeological and geological dating on things like ancient structures in the Middle East and artifacts that support bible stories, why can't I trust those same geologists who say the Earth is billions of years old? The logic started eating away at the things I believed, and what started as resentment towards God turned into apathy, turned into agnosticism, turned into atheism. At this point in time, I would consider myself an atheist.

I didn't know how to talk about any of this with anybody. I didn't have any friends who weren't also in the church, not even at work, where I rarely talked to anybody about anything not directly work-related. I knew if I tried to talk to L about it, especially the part where one of the things it stemmed from was my being gay and lying to her about my feelings and attraction to her for years, at best, she would try to convince me to talk to the pastor about it and at worst, she would tell everyone, and I would lose every important person in my life. So I didn't. I kept acting like everything was the same, going to church and work and bible study, leading worship music on Sunday mornings. It was eating me alive, but I didn't know what else to do.

I'm not usually an impulsive person. I love planning and knowing exactly what is about to happen. It's not like me at all to do something on impulse. But one night, after work, and after months of trying to figure out what to do about my whole life being a miserable lie, I texted my wife that I had to stay late to finish some work for a case and not to wait up for me, and I went to a gay bar. It was my first time in any bar, actually, and very much my first time acting on anything when it came to my sexuality.

There was a guy there. I mean, there were many men there, but there was one I couldn't look away from. It wasn't just that he was physically attractive, though he was beautiful, it was how free he was. He was dancing and wearing makeup and had his fingernails painted, and it made my chest hurt to look at him and wonder who I would have been if I could have been so free. And he clearly liked the look of me, too, because he came up to me when I'd been inside for a few minutes and asked me to dance, and one thing led to another and I went home with him. It was the first time I had sex with somebody other than my wife, obviously, and it was also the first time I ever felt like I understood what sex was supposed to be about, because I was actually attracted to the person I was having sex with. Was it perfect? No. I had no idea what I was doing because I've never done it before, but it was fun. I smiled without faking it for the first time in a long time, and he even made me laugh.

He gave me his number before I left. I started texting him at work the next day, and never stopped. It's been around five months, and I'm a little bit scared to admit that I think I might be falling in love with him.

As far as I know, he doesn't know that I'm married. My wife obviously doesn't know, and I don't know how I would even begin to tell her. I know I have to tell him that I'm married and that I've already waited too long. He deserves better than I've given him. But I'm scared that if I tell my wife, she'll tell everyone at church, and I'll lose every semblance of a support system that I've ever had.

So, AITA for cheating on my wife with a man and having no idea how to move forward?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #religious abuse #cults #child abuse #abuse #partner abuse #child death

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

          Ailill O'Dwyer, a 30 year old son of Aengus.           He is a freelance music teacher.

FC NAME/GROUP: Kim Woosung / The Rose CHARACTER NAME: Ailill O’Dwyer (Ailill’s pronunciation is AY-ill) AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 25 February 1993, 30 PLACE OF BIRTH: Seoul, South Korea / Raised in Dublin, Ireland OCCUPATION: Freelance singing, guitar and piano teacher. HEIGHT: 173cm / 5’8’’ WEIGHT: 65kg / 143lbs

DEFINING FEATURES:

Ears piercings: one on each lobe.

Tattoos: 1) Oona’s name and DOB (17.03.2022) on his left upper arm. 2) A stylized b/w Celtic Tree of Life along his spine. https://pin.it/7h7tNmN

PERSONALITY: Ailill is not a complicated person. He has simple tastes and dislikes when things are getting too fancy. Music is his passion and his talent for it is innate, making him a gifted composer and performer.

Due to the nature of his powers, Ailill can never be sure if people’s feelings towards him are real or only a result of his voice’s beauty. He’s always extremely suspicious of others’ intentions or affection towards him. He has a tendency for loneliness and often keeps things for himself. This side of his personality got even worse after his wife’s death.

However, once he’s sure of the real nature of others’ feelings, the young man can be the most loyal friend or passionate lover.

The only person Ailill can truly be himself with is his daughter Oona. He is a loving, caring and patient father, always ready to do anything for the little girl’s happiness. Extremely protective, his only wish is to keep her from harm and allow her to grow up in a safe and joyful environment.

HISTORY: Nothing much is known about Ailill’s mother and the circumstances of his conception. She anonymously gave birth to him and gave him up for adoption in a Seoul’s hospital. She only left him a letter to open when he would reach the age of 15.

Fortunately, the little boy didn’t stay in the foster system for too long. A loving and sweet Irish couple adopted him before he reached two years old and moved him to Dublin where he was renamed Ailill O’Dwyer. Easy, loved by all, the little boy grew up happily in his new family and country. And though he quickly accepted and adapted the Irish culture, his parents made sure he never forgot where he came from, bringing him to South Korea several times to allow him to connect to his birth country.

Already a good student, Ailill showed affinity for music very early on. His parents decided to allow him to explore this talent of his, offering him singing and piano lessons. The boy truly bloomed in this relationship with music, even learning guitar and composition by himself.

As he was growing up into a well-rounded person, Ailill started to notice others’ behavior towards him change. People he had no interest in were now asking for dates or more, the pattern repeating mostly after hearing him sing. Now reaching 15 years old, his parents gave him the letter left for him by his birth mother.

And thus, Ailill learnt everything about his father Angus, his Celtic and divine heritage as well as his powers. There were also words about a place called Mount Phoenix where people like him could find a shelter and answers about their parentages. Confused and now doubting of people’s real feelings for him, Ailill withdrew, choosing to follow his studies and his love for music. After graduating from the TU Dublin Conservatoire, the young man moved to South Korea to try to find his mother.

Instead of the wanted answers, Ailill found Sook, the first person who proved him he could be loved for who he was and not his powers. The young couple married after a couple years of dating and Sook was soon pregnant.

Unfortunately, the young woman didn’t survive childbirth and Ailill was left alone with his daughter Oona. Mourning, hesitating to go back to Ireland, the young man finally decided to find Mount Phoenix and moved there with his now 18 months old girl.

PANTHEON: Celtic CHILD OF: Aengus, God of Love and Youth POWERS:

Angelic singing voice causing other to temporarily become infatuated with him. He usually doesn’t take advantage of it.

Communication with birds associated with love (doves, partridges, swans…) https://birdgap.com/birds-love-symbolism/

STRENGTHS:

Protective.

Responsible.

Humble.

Loving and dotting father.

Musician: vocals, guitar (acoustic and electric), piano.

Multilingual: English, Korean, Irish Gaelic.

WEAKNESSES:

Doesn’t easily trust people.

Tendency to loneliness.

Difficulties to open to others, he mostly keeps everything to himself.

Mentions of his wife, he still finds it difficult to talk about her.

#kpop rp #krp #the rose #kim woosung #the rose woosung #mp; welcome

[praeyrp]

This is NOT a love story or maybe it is

Antonio Vega | 70s | semi open | Pedro Pascal (prefered) for Bastian Vega - husband, ex husband, who the heck knows

This is not a love story, or at least it isn’t one that has a happy ending. Or maybe it does, depending on the way you look at it. 

Their love story started many years ago in Italy, when they were both young. It was because of Bastians daughter though that their paths would ever cross. Dani was getting extra help to get her up to date with her studies, and Antonio was a volunteer at the local high school. Antonio would spend many evenings at the house, and when he learned that Bastian was studying as well, Antonio decided to help him.

Bastian had never been overly good at schooling, but Antonio made it enjoyable, he made it refreshing, and he was always so calm, and so patient. He knew the best approach, the way to help the knowledge to stick in his mind. Bastian felt like some love sick teenager for the first time.

It was that care though, the bright and vibrant nature that  saw something blossom between the two of them.  Antonio was quiet unlike anything that Bastian had ever met, he was filled with passion, he had such a zest for life that was overly intoxicating. He had such humour and held such a fiery nature that where Bastian pushed, Antoio pulled.  He was an artist at his core, a vegan, and a lover., and he had the personality to match. 

Bastian envied him a little, envied the way that Antonio was able to see the good, the light, where Bastian had seen the bad of it for so long.

It was Antonio who encouraged him to join the force, who helped him gain the confidence needed to be able to make it through. He guided him and held his hand, supported him through everything, and celebrated when he became an officer. Antonio became his conscience, his strength, his guiding light. Encouraged in ways no one else had in his life. He was right there when Bastian took to the stage and testified against his own parents and the corruption they were involved in. 

Perhaps it was their first bump in the road, not in the relationship they had forged, but in their lives. It took a dark turn, with enemies crawling out of the woodwork, furious that their cases that had been closed, were now being relooked into. Death threats, bricks their windows, would eventually see them deciding to move, but it was news of Antonios fathers illness that would eventually see them packing their bags and making the move to Chicago.

Their relationship went from strength to strength and just before they hit 30 they were married. That zest for life they both had never wavered. They were happy.

Or so Bastian would have liked to think at least. He spent many weeks, months and perhaps even years wondering and trying to analyse the cracks in the relationship that must have been there, but he simply didn’t see because when it counted, their relationship began to crumble. The death of Antonio’s father saw him fall into a deep depression, and Bastian didn’t know how to help him. How to bring back the man that he loved. Who had been a rock by his side for years. He was guilt ridden because Antonio had always been his rock, but when the shoes were on the other foot he faltered. He didn’t know how he was supposed to help him, what he needed to do in order to help him.

It was during this deep depression that Antonio would eventually admit to having an affair. (why is totally open, but it would have happened sometime after his father died) and that news broke them. The trust that Bastian had put into Antonio, shattered.

Antio chose to move out of their shared home, but still remained in contact with a daughter they shared, even if she was not his own. She was as much his, as she was Antonio’s. 

It was eventually Danica who insisted they start fresh, that a new location and new people might shine a light on the love they shared, and they did still love one another, that was never anything that could be denied. So they made their second move, this time to LA. Things were not the same though. Something fundamental had shifted between them. From guilt on both sides, Antonio’s guilt at having the affair, and Bastians guilt at not being able to be there for his husband the way his husband had always been there for him.

They went through a period of time where they tried to coexist as husbands once more, but it became clear that it simply wasn’t working, they simply went through the motions, more friends, who occasionally slept together than two people were madly in love with one another as they once did. They still love one another, but that love is something that has grown into something else. 

Divorce papers have never been signed, they still live with another, share their morning coffees, and talk about work, they still enjoy each others company, and sometimes their bodies, just as much as they spend their time with other people as well.

Which of course means there is lots of room to work with them, they’ve been in LA for many years, Bastian has risen the ranks and become the Chef of Police, and what Antonio is doing is totally open, whether he’s teaching or he took his art professionally is totally open.

Ultimately how they end up as people is totally open, 

Will they find their way back to one another?

Will they work through their issues?

Or will they find love with other people, and therefor together they must navigate what this means for each other, and where they both stand.

#wanted ad #jcink supernatural #jcink rp site #supernatural creatures rp #pedro pascal

[xtruss]

A Look Back At Waco — 30 Years After The Siege

— By Gavin Newsham

Charismatic "cult" leader David Koresh was the head of the Branch Davidians, and was killed in April 1993 by government agents during a raid on his Waco, Tx. compound following a 51-day standoff with the FBI and ATF. Three decades after the tragedy, its few survivors -- and those who tried to negotiate their release -- contend the outcome could have been far less deadly. Shutterstock

There was a time when David Thibodeau didn’t think about the events outside of Waco, Texas. back in April 1993.

Now 54 and living in Maine, Thibodeau was too busy drumming in his band to allow himself to relive the horrors of what took place there. “In a way, you start to forget and it kind of goes away,” he tells The New YorkPost.

“But then you turn on the TV and there will be footage of the burning buildings and it all comes flooding back.”

Thibodeau was one of just nine people to leave the blazing Mount Carmel Center alive following a 51-day standoff between the FBI and the center’s residents – the religious community known as Branch Davidians.

The standoff ended in the deaths of 76 people, burned alive as FBI attempts to end the siege failed catastrophically.

Thirty years later, Thibodeau’s almost surreal recollections of what took place typify the experiences of the few who managed to survive – as well as many of the law-enforcement agents and negotiators who attempted to deliver them to safety.

Top: Heather Jones was one of a handful of Branch Davidians to survive the government siege on their compound near Waco, Texas. Bottom: A memorial to those who perished 30 years ago next month at the Mt. Carmel compound run by the Branch Davidian religious group. Photographs New York Post

The saga at Waco began on February 28, 1993, when 75 agents from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms tried to serve an arrest warrant for weapons charges on David Koresh, leader of the Branch Davidians.

During the fracas, officers shot the group’s dogs, which prompted a gun battle with the compound’s residents that saw Koresh wounded along with four ATF agents and six Branch Davidians killed.

Born Vernon Howell in Houston, Texas, in 1959, Koresh had been a member of the Branch Davidians since 1981, becoming the leader in 1990 and changing his name in the process.

While previous leaders believed they were prophets of God, Koresh maintained he was the son of God – sent to Earth to prepare for the end of days while heading the messianic, apocalyptic Christian movement founded in 1955 as an offshoot of Seventh Day Adventism.

Under “orders” from God, Koresh took as many as 19 wives, reportedly fathering 13 children with them. His only legal wife was Rachel Jones, whom Koresh had married when she was just 14 years old.

Heather Jones was Rachel Jones’s niece, born at the compound in October 1983.

Left: Former FBI agent Gary Noesner attempted to negotiate a peaceful resolution to the Koresh-led standoff but was sent packing after weeks of no action. Jeffery Salter for NY Post. Right: David Koresh — seen here with his wife Rachel, and their son Cyrus — not only believed he was a prophet of God but the son of God. Sygma via Getty Images

Her family’s association with the Davidians dated back to the 1950s when her grandparents became members around the same time the group established their headquarters 13 miles north of Waco.

“Growing up in Mount Carmel was fun at times,” she says. “We had lots of animals. We had a lake and a swimming pool.

“[But] I hated the long church services.”

Jones lost her grandfather, Perry, in the initial ATF raid and, later, her father, David, in the final assault almost two months later.

Her mother, Kathy, survived, having left Mount Carmel in 1990 when she separated from her husband.

Jones also lost her aunt Rachel, who died alongside the three children she had with Koresh, as well as another aunt, Rachel Jones’s sister, Michelle.

She still remembers being woken by the sound of bullets smashing through her bedroom walls and people nearby being wounded or killed when the ATF began the initial raid. “There is not one day that goes by that I don’t think about the events that happened in 1993,” she says.

“I’ll never have any closure.”

There’s widespread suspicion when writers such as myself contact those who were at Mount Carmel — ranks seem to close as word spreads about your interest in what transpired three decades ago.

On the “Branch Davidians Survivors Waco’ group on Facebook,” there are messages warning members to “trust no one.”

Former group member Kat Schroeder, whose husband died in the first ATF raid, is “pretty sure I’ve already answered every question that could be asked.”

Another Branch Davidian, Livingstone Fagan, can’t see the point in discussing Waco any further. “We’ve been down this road many times before,” he messages, before highlighting the “misinterpretation and disinformation” that typically occurs whenever Waco is discussed.

Fagan left the compound with his two children, Renae and Neharah, on March 23, but lost his wife, Evette, and mother, Doris Adina during the raid.

Top: Former Attorney General Janet Wood Reno (Born: July 21, 1938 – Died: November 7, 2016), in Office: (March 12, 1993 – January 20, 2001) testified at a congressional subcommittee in 1995 as part of hearings into the tragedy at Waco. AFP via Getty Images. Bottom: Smoke pours from the headquarters of the Branch Davidians following the FBI siege on their compound in April 1993. Getty Images

Losses endured by folks like Fagan and Jones were not untypical.

Ofelia Santoyo, who left on March 21, had her daughter, Juliette Martinez, 30, and her five grandchildren, aged 3-13, perish at Waco.

Sheila Martin, then 46, also left that day to be reunited with her two children, Kimberly and Daniel, who had been released earlier. But she left behind her husband, Douglas, and her four older children, all of whom died.

Among the dead, meanwhile, were 24 British followers – many recruited when Koresh toured the United Kingdom in the late 1980s looking for new followers.

A few hours after the ATF’s initial raid, FBI negotiator Gary Noesner was on a plane headed for Texas. “I don’t know that anyone can truly be prepared for an event as challenging as Waco,” he tells The Post. “It’s not so easy to come into such a scenario and say, ‘Forgot all the prior stuff, trust me, let’s make a deal and end this peacefully.’ ”

Noesner’s negotiating strategy sought to distance the FBI from the ATF’s more aggressive style and, in doing so, establish a new relationship with the Davidians.

“From the beginning, it was quite clear that Koresh had an inflated sense of self-importance,” he tells The Post. “But I believed he was still someone that we could find a way to work with.

The aftermath of the fiery siege on the Branch Davidians compounds which saw 76 members perish from smoke and fire — including 22 children. Sygma via Getty Images

“We didn’t lecture him. We found we achieved more when we stayed away from religion. “You cannot expect to talk someone out of their core beliefs.”

It seemed to work – at least initially.

In the first week of the standoff, 21 children were allowed to leave, including Heather Jones and her brothers, Kevin, 11, and Mark, 12.

Fourteen adults also left.

But no more.

Top: An aerial view of the Mt. Carmel facility today, where a memorial ground and chapel are open for public visit. New York Post. Bottom: State troopers and members of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (ATF) stop a motorist during the 51-day standoff in Waco. Corbis via Getty Images

Dick DeGuerin was the lawyer tasked with negotiating on Koresh’s behalf. Based in Houston, he was hired by Koresh’s mother, Bonnie Haldeman, but was initially denied access to his client.

One month after the first raid, however, DeGuerin was granted permission to speak with Koresh. “I made it clear that I was not a shill for the FBI,” DeGuerin tells The Post.

His first face-to-face meeting with Koresh was conducted through the compound’s front door, with DeGuerin sitting on a chair outside.

Later, he was allowed inside. “I found Koresh to be a very intelligent and articulate person,” recalls DeGuerin, now 82 and living in Houston. “He was also dyslexic but had still memorized the whole of the Bible.”

For DeGuerin, there was no problem working with Koresh. As he saw it, the force used by the ATF had initially been excessive, and Koresh’s resistance was understandable.

It’s a view later reinforced by the acquittal of 11 Branch Davidians on murder charges relating to the initial ATF raid in February 1994. “As a lawyer, my job was to defend David Koresh at any trial.

“Yes, he would probably be charged with murder or conspiracy to murder, but I had to convince him that he would be treated fairly under the criminal justice system.

“And I think we did.”

Top: Koresh’s defense attorney Dick DeGuerin in his Houston home this month; the sculpture was made from a burned wheelbarrow and car part that was salvaged from the Waco compound. Scott Dalton for NY Post. Bottom: At its height, almost 650 government personnel were stationed at Waco during the standoff with the Branch Davidians which ended so tragically. Shutterstock

But progress was slow.

As the siege entered its fourth week, Noesner’s bosses began to change tack as a sense of fatigue set in. The FBI had more than 650 personnel at the compound and costs were mounting.

“They felt the best strategy was to ratchet up the pressure to force the Davidians out,” recalls Noesner. “[But] As a negotiator I knew this was not the way to go.”

Thibodeau agrees. “I think a lot of the Feds had never experienced anything like a religious group, committed to the scripture, that put God before everything,” he says.

Noesner left Mount Carmel on March 26, halfway through the siege as pressure mounted for a more aggressive approach. But “nobody came out after I was reassigned,” he says.

Still, by April 14, the situation appeared to be headed toward a nonviolent resolution. DeGuerin brokered a deal with Koresh for his surrender, providing his client was given time to complete his manuscript on the Seven Seals prophecy in the biblical Book of Revelations.

“I’d worked it out with the Texas Rangers that I would go in on the day of the surrender and walk out with Koresh and hand him over,” adds DeGuerin.

“Koresh even put it in writing.”

Thibodeau confirms this chain of events.

“I think a couple of more weeks at most and Koresh would have finished,” he says. “But the FBI thought it was another stalling tactic.” And the groundwork for the final – and fatal – assault began.

The following day, on April 15, FBI Commander Jeff Jamar headed to Washington, DC, to meet newly-appointed Attorney General Janet Reno and seek permission to end the standoff.

Top: Heather Jones gave a tour of Davidian’s former compound earlier this month. New York Post. Bottom: The Mt. Carmel headquarters was initially purchased by the religious sect during the late 1950s. Corbis via Getty Images

Various strategies were discussed, from digging tunnels to drugging the Davidians, but the preferred method – using tear gas and armored vehicles – was signed off on April 17.

Two days later, at around daybreak, the plan was put into action – with devastating consequences.

When the Davidians refused a final opportunity to surrender, the FBI, using tanks and combat vehicles, fired tear gas grenades through the building’s windows and smashed through walls.

A fire eventually broke out inside the compound. Fanned by strong winds, it tore through the large timber buildings.

David Koresh and 75 others died, including 22 children. Thibodeau still faults the government’s heavy-handed tactics.

“Those kids suffered immeasurably – I can’t imagine what they went through,” he says. “And yet the government asked why the kids just didn’t come out of the holes the tanks had made in the building.

“How the f–k do you grab your kids and come out with all that going on? Tell me that.”

Only nine people escaped with their lives, one of whom was Thibodeau. “Right place, right time” he reflects. “I climbed out a window because I didn’t want to burn to death.

“Yes, I thought they were going to shoot me but that’s what I would have preferred to be honest.”

Thirty years on, the blame game continues.

Author and Waco-survivor David Thibodeau says the trauma of what he endured during the siege remains with him “on a cellular level.” WireImage

The FBI and the Justice Department maintain the Branch Davidians started the fire deliberately, while survivors insist it was the FBI’s tear gas that ignited the blaze.

Noesner believes the siege could have ended differently. “We had a chance to get everyone out alive but that’s not the general opinion of the FBI personnel there,” he says.

While some FBI actions were criticized in the official Danforth Investigation into Waco in 2000, federal officials were cleared of any wrongdoing, leading to accusations of a whitewash.

“At every single stage, the government were the aggressors,” says Thibodeau. “They came in with helicopters and tanks. They shot the dogs. Even when the negotiations were working, they increased the pressure.

Noesner, meanwhile, became Chief of the FBI Crisis Negotiation Unit and wrote a book about his career, “Stalling For Time: My Life as an FBI Hostage Negotiator.”

A placard welcomes visitors to the former headquarters of the Branch Davidians known as Mt. Carmel outside of Waco, Texas, USA. New York Post

DeGuerin remains convinced Koresh would have surrendered. “It was just a matter of time,” he says.

While the siege was over, for survivors it was the start of a lifetime of trying to come to terms with events.

Heather Jones, for instance, is now a 39-year-old nurse living just 12 minutes away from Mount Carmel.

She still suffers from severe PTSD and remains angry about the coverup she believes happened. “I still live in fear to this day,” she says. “They will never tell the truth about what they did to us and all the horrible things they did to my family.

Thibodeau also still struggles to process what happened.

“The trauma stays with you on a cellular level,” said the author and musician. “And that’s a very hard way to live your life.”

— The New York Post, April 12, 2023

[emeryreeves]

basics:

full name: emery marie reeves  gender & pronouns: cis female, she / her : age & date of birth: 30, June 30 1992 where do they live: downtown time living in bradford springs: six months occupation: business owner of online crystal shop positive traits: compassionate, resilient negative traits: reserved, distrusting

faceclaim: adelaide kane

( tw: emotional/mental abuse, divorce, death )

background:

Brought into the world a dark night with a storm raging outside the hospital, a small girl emerged into the world named Emery after her late Great Grandfather. Her dark eyes bright and as time passed she became more curious getting into whatever she could, mud, paint, makeup. Always into something, always curious and that light within her eyes as remained for through her  child and teen years though it didn’t seem to remain.

Our story brings us to the tale of quiet girl and her infectious smile that drew in the popular boy in high school. The love flourished quickly and soon they had graduated school and were planning life together. Both had agreed to remain as close to home as possible. Deciding instead of living on campus to live together. Emery was thrilled by all of this and while so many told her that maybe they were moving too fast, the couple had two years under their belt and she was sure this was the right decision. 

If you tried to ask Emery where things began to go wrong. She probably wouldn’t be able to tell you honestly. It’s like that saying if cooking a frog and gradually increasing the heat so they aren’t alarmed and don’t jump out. It wasn’t until Parker was deciding her hair length and color at the salon one day despite her desires that she began to wonder if it wasn’t normal that he picked everything for her. She just thought she was being a good wife, listening to her husband. She didn’t have her parents by the time they got married. Which didn’t help anything. He proposed a year after their death and she was still lost in grief. Part of her thinks he took advantage of that time. That weakness that left a gaping hole in her life. She tried so hard to fill that time with her own happy memories. Ignoring the red flags that emerged when they tried to get pregnant. It wasn’t until the third failed test that Parker’s anger truly began to unravel…

While he never laid a hand on her. He spent the better of part of their relationship dictating all the things that made Emery, Emery. He even made her dye her hair to a dark brown so she wouldn’t be the center of attention with her red hair. He ate away at her self esteem, the spark that made her who she was. The candle almost went out. Almost. It took losing all her friends, her inner voice, her self to finally realize that he was not the Parker she fell inlove with any longer. He was toxic and cruel. Constantly trying to make her jealous despite how beautiful she has always been, he made her feel like she wasn’t. 

The subject of leaving and divorcing Parker is a hard one for Emery, but she tries to hide with jokes and dark humor but that is about it. It takes a level of trust Emery hasn’t found in anyone in long time. While the divorce has been finalized, Emery is still looking over her shoulder to make sure he doesn’t return to her life..

Now two years divorced from her toxic husband who spent the better part of her twenties controlling her and everything she did from the length of her hair to the color of her socks and how she spoke to people. 

It has been a slow process of her being able to think and act for herself that she’s still adjusting to. Starting with moving to a new town and new apartment away from all the memories of her ex-husband and their sham of a life together. 

Since leaving him she started her own business after a few failed attempts at other jobs and companies. Nothing seemed to make her happy. She couldn’t handle taking orders from anyone else any longer and just wanted to be able to do what she wanted. So she quit. She struggled and finally moved on and started her own business. While she still working out of her second bedroom and she’s her only employee she’s truly happy. 

Her business hours aren’t the most typical, so Emery may or may not be spending her time living out what she missed in her twenties or that’s what she’s telling herself. It’s kind of hard when she moved to a new city and doesn’t have any friends after what happened with her ex-husband. So she’s been trying to get out more, remind herself that she doesn’t need to be focused on work all the time. Turning 30 made her realize how much time she had wasted and while she had finished college and had a few decent references it still felt like it wasn’t enough. She hadn’t travelled or seen the world hell this was her first time out of her hometown. 

extras:

• Her parents passed in her early twenties and she has no siblings. She still doesn’t really like talking about it and has sore memories from their accident and the fact that she wasn’t there even if it wasn’t her fault. 

• right handed. loves to read. always wanted to be a writer or business owner. currently only speaks English fluently and is refreshing her memory and her Spanish. star gazer. Used to be a hopeless romantic. Hasn’t been serious with anyone since her ex husband. Cancer Stellium. Aquarius Rising. Cancer Moon. 

#about #bsco.intro

[alexander-warren]

𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖲

full name: jordan alexander warren

nickname: alex, xander

age/date of birth: 36 / may 8th, 1986

zodiac sign: taurus ☼ libra ☾ cancer ↑

gender identity: cis male (he/him)

place of birth: hermosa beach, california

current location: bridgeport, maine

neighbourhood: point breeze

living situation: owns a nice home that he shares with his dog, pollux.

sexual orientation: demisexual

religion: believer but doesn’t subscribe to any religion

occupation: owner of the pitch/writer

fears: leaving the world worst than he entered it, hurting people.

hobbies: musical theatre, camping, reading,

likes: see above + nature, cooking, history, volunteering, sports.

dislikes: talking about his past

languages spoken: english, spanish, french, japanesse, italian, russian

height: 6 feet

instruments played: guitar, piano

tattoos: a phoenix on his back, a minimalist tattoo from the song ‘from eden’ by hozier where the word idealism sits in a small prison and it’s located on his left ribcage, the date of his mom’s passing and his sibling’s disappearance on his chest, the phrase ‘when i was drowning, that’s where i could finally breathe’ from the song clean by taylor swift on his right forearm.

piercings: n/a

favorite color: blue, red, green

favorite food: pie

allergies: n/a

right or left-handed?: right-handed.

parents: robert warren & alycia reynolds

sibling(s): a younger sibling, whereabouts unknown (there may be more half siblings, who knows?)

pet(s): a four year old labradoodle named pollux

𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖫𝖤𝖳 𝖯𝖮𝖨𝖭𝖳𝖲 (𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗂𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇)

tw: substance abuse, abuse, child neglect, family separation, injury overdoze and death mention

he was born in hermosa beach, california and is the son of a former ballerina and a mechanic. however, they both had quit their professions by the time alex was born to produce and distribute illegal substances. his mother was a bridgeport native and when he was a kid, he used to visit quite regularly until his mom and her family got into a big argument and she swore to never come back

they started to use too very soon, so alexander’s entire life revolved around drugs from very early on in his life. he had to learn to be responsible and care for himself and his parents at a very young age and that proved to be beneficial when their sibling was born and alex soon enough had to take care of an infant due to his parents falling right into their addiction.

the patriarch started getting violent towards the entire family and those around them could see it so one day after receiving an anonymous call and while alexander was in school, child services arrived to the warren household and took the youngest warren.the father used this as his emergency exit and he too, left.

when alexander was sixteen, he came home after a party to find his mom unconscious and was pronounced death on her way to the hospital. it was later revealed that she had overdozed. after a few months barely  surviving, alexander finally reacted. he finished high school a year later on top of his class and was later accepted in nyu

he decided to major in criminal justice and minor in drama, later on he got a phd in criminal justice and got enlisted in the fbi at age 23. it was during this time in his life where he met the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life and asked them to marry him. to his surprise, they said yes.

a couple years passed and alexander excelled at his job as an agent. he was told if he kept the good work he could make it as an executive director before 30. however, he was already doubting his life path. it all came crumbling down after two incidents: one when all the agents in his division and their families were threatened, causing alexander to freak out about his involvement with his fiance and culminated on them breaking off the engagement and their relationship altogether.

shortly after the breakup, the second incident caused him to spiral down: during a high profile case a mistake was made. a mistake that nearly caused him his life. it all culminating in him deciding to end his (fairly, short but extremely taxing) career in the fbi and start anew. alexander decided then to move to bridgeport, the one place that watched his mother grow. he used his experience to consult some cases after quitting and ultimately, wrote his first crime novel.

his first novel was published and received incredibly well, becoming a new york times best seller within a few weeks of its release. his publisher offered him a contract for other two books connected to his first novel, to create a crime saga and a possibility of a movie adaptation. alexander of course, accepted happily and delivered the second one within a few months.

with some of the money he got from his book deals, alexander opened the pitch

he got a labradoodle puppy around 4 years ago and is now trying to write his third book although it had proven as unsuccessful as his love life, although he remains hopeful and open minded in both fronts.

𝖯𝖤𝖱𝖲𝖮𝖭𝖠𝖫𝖨𝖳𝖸

For the most part, Alexander is a very loving and caring person. He genuinely cares about making those around him happy, he is very protective of those he loves, sometimes to a fault. But he always has good intentions, unless you hurt someone he loves, then he can be hell on earth and he has the FBI on his side so really, don’t cross him.

He can get VERY hot-heated, he is a very passionate guy when something really interests him.

He’s basically tired ???? all the time??? he doesn’t sleep that much but he’s getting better at it now that he doesn’t sleep alone) but yeah, big part of his personality, either tired or drinking coffee.

Kind of a mess, he tries to hides it because he has kids that depend on him now and he is like, a respectable professor but, yeah.

Honestly, just a very tired old golden retriever with an awful past he is still trying to deal with.

#bridgeportintro #≀ 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 ⧸ about

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

In recognition of 200 followers.....

I composed a list of 200 hero x villain dialogue prompts for you guys to ask me or reblog it and ask your own followers or if you take inspiration.

Thank you so much! It means a whole lot!

1. "I wish I had longer to love you."

2. "Sometimes being the greatest is being the worse."

3. "I will kill you if you die on me."

4. "Bury me... under a willow tree... with tulips and lilies to blossom in the spring and a small stream to keep me company."

5. "Villains aren't capable of love; yet, here I am crying over your grave."

6. "The kitten's name is Max."

7. "I'm going to get a beer."

8. "There is only one way to kill me, but you could never muster the strength to pull through."

9. "I'm dizzy with love for you."

10. "Hero, you are drunk not a toddler."

11. "I pledge to serve you willingly, butthead."

12. "Ride the waves with me." "You are a mermaid, no thanks."

13. "Stay awake for me; it's only a little farther."

14. "I can't carry you!"

15. "He isn't much, but we'll make do."

16. "I WANT TO SEE HER! LET ME SEE HER PLEASE. Please..."

17. "George Washington never told a fib, and I am greater than him, so trust me, Hero, when I say I am telling the truth."

18. "Eggs and butter make dough, knives and guns make death."

19. "You are insane."

20. "The bomb is going off in twenty seconds, Hero. Run now. I-I'm going to stop it."

21. "What is love?"

22. "I don't get the function of hugs."

23. "Mentally I'm good, but physically..."

24. "I only wished for happiness from that genie. I guess it was evil."

25. "Break him, shatter him, destroy him."

26. "Sing with me."

27. "Villain you are touch starved, not dying."

28. "What the heck did you do to your hair." "What? You don't like it?" "It looks like my cat's litterbox."

29. "Don't give me hope."

30. "I am not a disease or a parasite. I am a human. I am one of those millions you swore to protect."

31. "Kiss, marry, kill?" "Kill, kill, kill."

32. "You created me."

33. "Villain don't you dare pass out."

34. "I like the look of blood on you, compliments your eyes."

35. "I kinda dropped Hero through space."

36. "Power exhaustion sucks."

37. "Time to save the world. Yay!" *says in sarcasm*

38. "Let me feed you Hero."

39. "You do not have AC?!"

40. "Villain you have a fever."

41. "Am I drunk?"

42. "Movies. Nine o'clock. Don't be late."

43. "Lemme grab a beer and we are good to go."

44. "Don't. Look. At. Me."

45. "He just had his wisdom teeth out sooo." "How bad can it be? Villain has been shot with twenty tranq darts at one and didn't pass out... immediately anyway, took a good twenty minutes." "Well, you see-" "THE KITTEN IS TRYING TO KILL ME!!!!!"

46. "She needs surgery."

47. "It's a panic attack..." "KISS HIM!"

48. "Blood, gore, madness... this was made for me."

49. "Quit drooling on me and sit up."

50. "There's only one bed."

51. "He looks so cute when he sleeps."

52. "Of all the places to live, you had to choose a heavily fortified medieval castle two thousand years in the past?"

53. "You are a peacock Hero."

54. "Let's see who will drown first. You or me. One, two, three... let's go!"

55. "I wasn't always like this."

56. "Madness is for geniuses, not for me."

57. "It's just a sedative that's going to make you nice and docile."

58. "He's out." "Good, let him rest, villainy is hardwork."

59. "I love her, but she doesn't love me."

60. "If I had a choice to save you or me, I'd pick me."

61. "Gag her."

62. "They aren't made for this, give them mercy."

63. "Talk now or she dies."

64. "Broken ribs, broken jaw, broken arm... are you sure you want me to continue." "No." "Then tell me your name."

65. "Get me some thread and a needle. Just don't touch me."

66. "The police are coming."

67. "Tell me where she is. TELL ME WHERE IS SHE OR I WILL SLASH YOUR THROAT AND TOSS YOU IN THE SEWER!!!!!"

68. "I love you." "I don't."

69. "Hug me just one last time."

70. "Villain hey hey hey. Calm down. You've been in a pretty bad accident."

71. "They won't be able to walk again."

72. "Tell me... just tell if they made it."

73. "Can't you just poof me another arm?"

74. "If you saved all of them, you can save me."

75. "I'm really tired..."

76. "Sleep. I will stay with you."

77. "She is sixteen years old." "All musicians start young." "This isn't a concert, this is life. Stop ruining it."

78. "He"s been in an accident." "Where?" "Five minutes away from your place."

79. "I wish he wasn't unconscious, so I could talk to him. So I could thank him."

80. "It's been four months now. I have came everyday and, uh, I dunno what to say. Hero, I need you to wake up. I can't function knowing you are right here."

81. "I have a date." "Hmm with who?" "Supervillain." "When and where honey?"

82. "Shhhhhhh. Be quiet. We are still being hunted."

83. "Desert?" "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

84. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." "I know, I know dear and I so sorry, but I need you to help me. I need you to help them."

85. "Villain just sleep. Allow the drugs to take you under. Don't fight it, don't resist... just sleep. In the morning, we will be safe."

86. "Being lost in the woods isn't ideal."

87. "An injection of valium will do it."

88. "There's no anesthesia."

89. "Wouldn't it be great if we never met each other?"

90. "Bless you." "I didn't sneeze." "Yeah right. Now go sit down, you're sick."

91. "It's called insomnia you dim-wit."

92. "Join me and we can be great."

93. "You didn't bring me here for the cake." "No, dear, but you are so gullible. I brought you here for a sacrifice." "My life?" "Why yes."

94. "I don't know. I never had someone collapse on my doorstep before."

95. "I have nothing to lose. No family, no friends, just my meaningless life."

96. "That's my daughter, not the villain's... so give me her back before I rip your eyes out."

97. "How long was I out for?!" "Ten minutes, but you were drifting. I don't think you had that good of rest." "Oh, I thought I was asleep for hours."

98. "I know, I know you are going to hate me after this, but trust me when I say it's for the best."

99. "I know everything about you."

100. "I think narcissism is contagious because after watching you for a couple hours, I think I may have developed a little crush on the mirror..."

101. "What did you give me?"

102. "Is she screams, I'm going to scream, and then we are going to die."

103. "No fighting today, my cat just died."

104. "How hard did you punch me?"

105. "Not gonna lie, being delirious was epic."

106. "I am cooking for you. You aren't my servant, so stop thinking it."

107. "My old masters made me into a weapon and called me Villain, but if you desire a lapdog I am going to need to be refurnished to fit your needs."

108. "What is his deal?" "I think he's just crazy."

109. "Love is not what I had in mind when I agreed to go on a date with you."

110. "Hugs are overrated."

111. "Are you too hot or too cold?" "Both."

112. "I wish we could turn back time."

113. "I lost the game." "What do you mean? Hero is dead." "Precisely."

114. "Make a wish." "That you live."

115. "Villain has been acting exceptional! Today we granted them a break from the machine. Go ahead Hero and take him for some ice cream."

116. (Sleepy murmurs) "Don't go. I neeeed you." "Yeah yeah I know Villain."

117. "Villain was the one who hurt me, not Hero."

118. "Supervillain is in danger!"

119. "If everyone is scared of me, I might as well be alone."

120. "My head is killing me."

121. "Don't call an ambulance. Just... hold me."

122. "You don't have to do this. It's going to hurt you more than me." "Anything for you dearest, anything at all."

123. "Hero, go wash your hands before dinner."

124. "You have PTSD?" "I don't know?"

125. "I have soap in my eyes!' "Rinse it out." "Mm no I'm permanently mortally blinded." "Uh huh."

126. "We need to cuddle to keep warm."

127. "Take care of them for me, will you?"

128. "When I'm gone, promise to tell my mother, please."

129. "Drug him and then bring him to me."

130. "Superheroes are for children. In all honesty, we are all villains."

131. "Oh my gosh, Hero, what happened?" "Poisoned."

132. "Wouldn't it be nice?" "I don't fancy prosthetics."

133. "Just shut up and listen!"

134. "There is a memorial parade for Hero tomorrow. They asked you to lead it."

135. "She turned it around... at the end."

136. "I wish that he understood how much I care for him."

137. "Civilian! He fell asleep in my lap last night, like totally zooted. It was so cute, but also very tempting. I stuck a french fry up his nose." "Wow. Did he wake up then?" "Yeah, I am sorta kidnapped right now..."

138. "The book, the sword... all pieces of the puzzle huh." "No, darling, all pieces of my game."

139. "Their death is my fault! Not your's, but mine, so quit trying to make me feel better."

140. "Once upon a time-" "Oh please, not another fairytale."

141. "If only it was that easy."

142. "We are stuck in a maze, how can you be so joyful?"

143. "Celebrate Hero, eat your cake, party into the night... but just know, I will be back."

144. "Call 911!" "Why?" "I stubbed my toe."

145. "Your jawline looks like it was gauzed over in lard." "It looks better than your hay for hair."

146. "You're my best friend." "Villain? Are you on drugs?"

147. "Lay him there and leave him. Let the rats dine on him."

148. "The point of the cow suit?" "Oh, uh, I was at a Halloween parade. You know, for children."

149. "I-i never wanted to hurt you." "I know, I wanted you to, so I allowed it."

150. "Favorite movie?" "Your death." "Ooo never heard of it, let's watch it." "*groans* Oh my gosh, you are stupid."

151. "Being a flutist is my only superpower. And being modest apparently."

152. "Your head will join my collection if yoi don't watch out."

153. "Hey, hey! Wake up, buddy. It's just a nightmare."

154. "Meh head hurts." "Yeah, you hit it pretty hard."

155. "Let's go for a ride." "On that yellow miniature school bus?" "It's a ranger you idiot."

156. "No painkillers, no bandages, perfect environment for infection to settle... I'm just gonna leave you here Villain."

157. "I save you and this is how you repay me? A prison?"

158. "What are you doing?" "Climbing a tree? No Hero, I am breaking into your house to kidnap you."

159. "I formally apologize."

160. "Of all places, Hero, you had to teleport us to a desert. A DESERT."

161. "Supervillain won't stop unless we team up." "I don't think our alliance will stop them, I think it'll just make them angrier."

162. "Stop singing or I will blow this place until even the last atom is broken into itty-bitty molecules!" "That... that is scientifically impossible."

163. "I'm a genius! Yippee!"

164. "Life isn't perfect and nor is your morals."

165. "Control yourself before you kill everyone around you."

166. "Say your goodbyes."

167. "Of all the ways I've died, drowning was by far the nicest."

168. "Love the collar. Is it for fashion purposes?" "Uh, um, uh, er, no?"

169. "You look lonely. Want some hot coco?"

170. "It is negative million out there and you expect me to come in toasty warm after fixing your power?"

171. "Are you sick?" "Yeh." "Come on in then."

172. "Civilian, don't even bother trying to save him."

173. "We have a breach!"

174. "What makes a villain's life less important than your's?"

175. "Enjoy your soup." "You poisoned it." "And you're delusional, eat up."

176. "I hate 99% of the population." "According to a meme I found, you are therefore a cat."

177. "Don't overuse your powers."

178. "This is just an unfortunate event."

179. "You look so cute when you are sleepy and barely conscious."

180. "His fever is rising."

181. "Save her, leave me. I'll-i'll get out of this somehow."

182. "Sometimes self-sacrifice isn't noble, it's selfish."

183. "You are so funny that I need my inhaler to kill you with." "That sentence was so discombobulated that I am leaving."

184. "Just for your information, I hate oranges but love grapes."

185. "Walking down the stairs shouldn't be a momental effort." "You broke both your legs."

186. "You just destroyed my life's work, don't expect me to give you a huge bear hug."

187. "Is it true that you have telekinesis?" "Yes, why?" "Go steal me a donut."

188. "You are so incredibly touch starved, Villain." "Mmm." "Tired? Go ahead and sleep, I'm here."

189. "This is for your own good, I promise."

190. "I'm cold."

191. "I don't want to move and you can't make me."

192. "I AM RETIRED! YOU DON'T NEED TO CONTINUE TO SEND ME PAMPHLETS OF THE HOTTEST HERO OF THE YEAR!"

193. "He's unconscious." "That tired, huh." "No, he passed out from blood loss."

194. "I want a kitten."

195. "I'm no scared of you, so stop acting like I am."

196. "He isn't dangerous, just scared."

197. "They won't be going anywhere for a long, long time."

198. "Hero? Hero? Oh my goodness, please wake up."

199. "Life is too short for pleasures."

200. "I hope you are happy, in the end."

#heros and villains #ask game #200 followers #thank you so much

[sequinsmile-x]

Riptide

A love story told from two perspectives. One after it is has ended, and the other just as it begins.

Chapter 2: The Middle 

Words: 5k

Rating: Mature. Major Character Death.

You can either read over on a03 or below the cut.

I would love to know what you think.

November 2025

Six weeks after Aaron dies it’s the anniversary of Haley’s death. The date had been burned in her brain long before they were together, the memory of hearing Haley begging Aaron to teach Jack about love was something she was sure she would never forget.

Emily’s still laying in bed when she realises what Aaron no longer being around meant. That he wouldn’t be there to leave flowers at her grave like he did every year with his son. Emily wasn’t even sure if Jack was in town or if he was back at college, his responses to her attempts to reach out short and sharp.

It’s the easiest she’s gotten out of bed in weeks. Determined to do this one thing for the man she loves and the woman he had loved before her. She dresses quickly and throws her hair up in a bun. She goes to a nearby florist and buys the most expensive flowers she can, feeling as if flowers from the grocery store just wouldn’t have been enough.

When she gets to Haley’s grave she falters, wondering for a moment if she has somehow overstepped. She swallows against the feeling and places the flowers down on Haley’s bare grave and she sits down, the damp grass pressing into her knees through her thin yoga pants.

“Hi Haley.” She says, looking at the flowers she had just put down. “I used to do this for him when he was in witsec. I didn’t even know back then that it was what he did when he was around, it just felt right.” She shakes her head at herself. “I think he’d want me to carry on now.”

She remembers what he’d told her once, that in another life, one where they had sorted themselves out sooner and Haley had lived, he thought the two of them would have been friends. Bonding over his annoying habits, how frustrating he was to live with at times. Emily liked to think that was true.

“I don’t really know what I’m hoping for.” Emily admits as she looks at Haley’s headstone. “That he’s with you wherever you are, or that he’s somewhere waiting for me.” She wipes at her cheek with the heel of her hand, getting rid of tears she didn’t think would ever stop. ______________________

He joins her on the balcony, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her back into his embrace. Emily leans against his back and smiles as he presses a kiss to the side of her head.

“Aren’t you glad I convinced you to do this?” He murmurs against her skin. He tangles their left hands together, their wedding rings hitting each other with the motion.

She tilts her head to look at him, and is unable to stop herself from kissing him, placing a hand on his cheek to keep him in place. She pulls back so their noses touch. “I’ll admit a honeymoon wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”

He kisses her again, smiling too widely against her lips for it to be more than a brush against her. “Where are you taking me first, tour guide?” ______________________

When she first wakes up she can still feel his touch on her skin, and the ghost of his lips against hers. It feels so real she half expects to turn over and find him laying next to her.

Then reality starts to kick in, the harsh truth seeping in through the lightness that her dream had created. The heaviness of her loss taking its place back in her chest. Tears blur her vision as she checks the time on the alarm clock on her nightstand.

2.30am

Emily sighs as she gets out of bed, knowing she wouldn’t sleep again that night. She grabs a box out of the nightstand as she leaves their bedroom and walks downstairs.

She sits in the living room, curled up in a blanket Aaron had bought her because she always complained how cold she was, and she opens the box. She takes their wedding rings back out and holds them in her hand, hoping she can find some of him in a ring he never wore.

______________________

She buys a long chain and loops it through his wedding ring. When she places it around her neck she feels the tiniest bit of relief when the cold metal settles between her breasts.

She slips her own wedding ring onto her finger, settling it against her engagement ring. She stares at them together for a moment and decides to leave it on.

She had already felt married to him anyway.

______________________

Emily goes back to work after Christmas. She doesn’t tell the team about her return, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. The way the bullpen practically grinds to a halt when she steps out of the elevator tells her that she had failed.

She makes it to her office without being stopped, and as she steps into the room she realises her hopes of getting away from him for a few hours, from feeling anything other than sadness wasn’t going to work. It had once been his office too. As she sits down at her desk she remembers the first time they met, how rude he was to her. She used to tease him for it, poke fun at him for how much he hadn’t wanted her around those first few months.

Emily remembers when he first left, entrusting the BAU to her. It was the first time she had walked into his office, her office, when she felt the true pressure of what he had left her. The BAU was precious to him. She had walked over to his desk and picked up his nameplate, tracing her fingers over his name and job title.

She had put it in the top drawer of her desk. At first it felt wrong to get rid of it. Some part of her sure he’d be back eventually. But then they stopped Scratch. His death the end of the danger that Jack was in, and he still didn’t come back.

After that she kept it as a memory, a talisman of sorts of the man she had more complicated feelings for than she would ever have admitted. A piece of him that she had left.

It took on new meaning when they got together. When she knew how it felt to be loved by him, to be taken apart by him. How his skin felt pressed against hers. She’d look at the nameplate when she was at work and missed him, feeling ridiculous for feeling that way when it had only been a few hours since she had last seen him.

When they got engaged, she got an idea. An ongoing joke between them, that his love of the BAU was so great he was marrying into it, that she could turn into a keepsake for him. A small wedding present she knew would have made him laugh.

Emily pulls the drawer open and looks at it, picking it up and looks at its new engraving. She runs her thumb over the words and feels the now familiar tug of pain in her chest.

Aaron Hotchner Husband of the BAU Unit Chief

There’s a knock at her door and she puts it back, wanting to keep this one thing just for her.

“Come in.”

JJ opens the door, a smile on her face that seemed forced. “Em, we didn’t know you were coming back today.”

Emily clears her throat and tries to smile at her friend, “I couldn’t stay home forever.” She sees the case file in JJ’s hand.

“Em.”

“Do we have a case?” She asks, desperation in her tone. She just wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

JJ steps into the office and eyes her cautiously. “Yeah, a serial killer in Kansas.” She hands over the file and Emily reaches for it with her left hand. She doesn’t miss how JJ’s eyes land on her hand, the slight crease in her brow when she realises Emily is wearing two rings. She quickly retracts her hand, reaches for the file with her right instead.

She clears her throat and hopes JJ doesn't hear how her voice wavers. “You can brief me on the jet. Wheels up in 30.” ______________________

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Emily puts the spatula down, sighing as she turns to see him, eyes narrowing at the smug look on his face as he leans against their kitchen counter. “You could help you know.”

He closes the gap between them, places his hands on her hips and he kisses her. “Well then how will you ever learn to cook?”

“That’s what I have you for.”

He raises his eyebrows at her, places his hand under her shirt, his skin burning into hers. “Is that all I’m good for?”

She leans forward and kisses him, biting his lower lip slightly. “One of many things.” ______________________

She wakes up on the couch, unsure when she’d even fallen asleep. Emily closes her eyes in frustration, tears leaking out as soon as she opens them again. She can still feel his hand on her skin, the width of it scorched onto her back. “Damn it.” __________________

She dreams of the car crash they’d got into on their first anniversary. A car running straight into the back of them as he told her a terrible joke whilst they waited for traffic lights to change. He’d hit his head on the steering wheel and become unconscious as the car spun.

The fear she felt when he wouldn’t wake up still sat in her belly sometimes. The thought she’d lost him just as she’d got him overriding her every thought until he had woken up in the hospital several hours later, immediately concerned for her.

Emily still dreamt about it up until the day he died. Her nightmares telling her he had gone, that she was stuck in a car with his body and unable to move herself. Aaron would always soothe her awake, able to tell what had scared her just by the look on her face.

She has the dream again, but this time when she wakes she is alone.

______________________

“Don’t smile at me like that.” She whispers, running her thumb over his lower lip, marvelling in how warm it was.

His smile widens, his dimples coming out for her to trace her fingers over. “Why not?”

Her hand falls away from his face and she sighs, the sound catching in her throat. “Because this isn’t real.

______________________

When she wakes up she is angry. Tears already on her cheeks. And she misses the days when she could forget he was gone when she was dreaming. Moments when her subconscious would let her think he was still here, still beside her like he should be. ______________________

One night, around seven months in, Emily is desperate. Too many dreams about him lingering in her head, traces of him at every turn that she loves and hates in equal measure. Nothing smells like him anymore, and she realises in a harrowing moment she doesn’t even remember what he smelt like. She sprays their bed in his cologne and it’s not quite right. Whatever scent he had, something uniquely Aaron, missing.

A letter inviting her to the court date, to hear details about how he died yet again, tips her over the edge. She goes out, wanting to feel anything other than the all consuming grief that had become her normal.

A man across the bar she finds herself in keeps looking at her, throwing her looks in the dim lights. She drinks just enough to convince herself it's a good idea, that it would help.

If the fact she is wearing a wedding and engagement ring bothers him he doesn’t show it, doesn’t comment on it as she pulls him into the alley behind the bar.

The man kisses her. She moves her head, not wanting his lips pressed against hers. He presses his lips against her neck and she feels a stone drop in her stomach. His fingers trace her arm and they are too soft and she wrenches herself away from him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” She walks away, ignores how he shouts that she should just go home to her husband after her, and she hails a cab. She cries the entire way home.

For the first time, for only a moment, she hates Aaron. Hates him for loving her so much, so well, that she can’t forget how it felt even for a second. ______________________

“You’re sad.”

She closes her eyes as he settles behind her in bed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Of course I’m sad.”

Aaron kisses the top of her head and she sighs, settling into his embrace. “You can’t be sad forever, love.”

She brings his hand up to her lips, presses them against him. Feeling his skin and the metal of his ring against her. “I don’t know how to be happy without you.” ______________________

August 2021

Emily is nervous the first time they have dinner with Jack after they get together, and Aaron finds it very endearing. She comes to his apartment and he can immediately tell she is on edge. Signs he hadn’t seen when Doyle came on the scene all those years ago. Little changes in her demeanour he had gone over in his head again and again when she was in Paris, a fake grave for her too close to where he lived that made his lungs fill with regret.

When she came back, nervous and on edge, he had purposely looked out for them. He’d seen her need to leave them before she even had, and he’d let her go, despite everything in him wanting to beg her to stay.

Aaron lets her into his apartment, explaining Jack was just on his way home from after school soccer practise, and she walks into his kitchen, helping herself to a glass of wine like she lived there. It takes all of his self control to not ask her to move in, knowing they’d only been together two months, as he watches her sit at the dining table. He sighs and sits next to her, taking a sip of the wine she passes to him, and he smiles as he realises she had poured it intending for them to share.

“Sweetheart.” He places a hand on her bouncing knee, soothing the joint with his thumb running back and forth over it. “Jack’s known you almost his entire life.” He says, not missing the way she rolls her eyes when he knows that is wrong with her without anything being said.

“I know.” She says, teeth immediately going for the cuticle on her thumb before he grabs her hand, subtly surveying the damage she had already done. “I know I’m being ridiculous. But…this is different.” She grabs his hand off her knee and links their fingers. “We’re together now. I love you. I’m not just a friend or someone you work with.”

He can sense the spiral, the self doubt seeping into her pores. “Emily.” He gently cups her face and makes her look at him. “Jack loves you. When I told him we were together, do you know what he said?” He smiles as she shakes her head at him. “He said ‘about time.’”

She laughs at that, a beautiful sound that makes his heart sing. “He didn’t.”

“He did.” He promises, kissing her firmly. “Well, he actually said ‘about fucking time’ but I told him off for cursing.”

Emily laughs again, her nerves finally seeming to uncurl and she kisses him this time, her love for him clear as she wraps her hand around the back of his neck.

Dinner goes well, and Emily becomes a pretty permanent feature in the Hotchner’s apartment after that. ______________________

The way they easily fall into their relationship surprises him. Aaron had always pictured their relationship, when he’d allowed a little bit of dangerous hope to seep in, to be fiery. Both of them too used to being alone, to being self reliant to give enough of themselves to make something work between them. But it’s not like that.

They communicate. They love each other openly. And every time she touches him, which she does almost constantly, he feels like something in him clicks into place for the first time in his life. A piece of the puzzle he didn’t realise had been missing. ______________________

Aaron wakes with his head on her chest, curled around her in a way that made it hard to determine where she ended and he began. Emily was running her hand through his hair, her short nails scratching against his scalp.

“Morning.” She says gently, her thumb skating over his temple.

Aaron doesn’t move from her chest, but tilts his head so he can look up at her. She smiles at him, adoration all over her face despite how tired she looked. “It’s unlike you to be up first.”

She hums. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He does lift his head at that, and he moves his hand from where it had been resting at her waist to cup her cheek. “Did you sleep at all?” He sighs when her answer is a shake of her head, sitting up and changing their positions so she’s resting against his chest. “You should have woken me up, baby.”

“You need your sleep too.” She grumbles, but he can feel the smile she presses into his bare chest as she protests.

“What kept you up?” He asks, his finger tracing the scar at the top of her left breast, as if he already knew the answer.

Emily rests her chin on his chest so she can look up at him, hand skirting over one of his scars. “It feels stupid, because its been so long now.” She smiles sadly. “But sometimes I feel like I’m still in that warehouse in Boston. Like part of me never left.”

“That isn’t stupid, Emily.” Aaron says firmly, catching her hand in his own. He wonders how many people had told her since Ian Doyle had torn through their lives that she needed to move on, to leave it behind her. “If anyone understands how it feels to be haunted by their past like that it’s me.”

Emily smiles at him and pushes down at his chest so she can reach up and kiss him before she lays back down. They don’t say anything else, and she certainly doesn’t get any sleep, but they spend hours just laying together that morning.

Aaron thinks, not for the first time, that they understand each other better than anyone else ever could.

______________________

He knew he’d been moody for a few days, the anniversary of Haley’s death looming over him. Aaron is shorter with her than usual, and he even ignores a couple of calls from her when she tries to check in when she’s away on a case.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, it was quite the opposite. She knew him well enough to pull his emotions out of him until he felt raw, and this was something he didn’t want to put on her. To make her comfort him as he grieved another woman. Emily takes to texting him instead, simply asking for a response to let her know he’s ok. He replies, just a one word text, and she leaves him alone after that.

It's very late in the evening the day before the anniversary when she lets herself into his apartment. The key he had given her only a few weeks into their relationship scraping in the door was his first sign that she was coming over. She has her go-bag slung over her shoulder, an indicator that she had only just landed and hadn’t even been home.

“Hi.” She says, a soft smile on her face that he isn’t sure he deserves.

He clears his throat, just seeing her making all the emotions he’d been suppressing climb up his chest, threatening to spill out. “Hey, Em. Look I’m-”

“I know what tomorrow is.” She interrupts, placing her bag down by the door. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Aaron sighs, and he rubs his hands over his eyes. Of course she remembered. She’d been on the line when Haley died, heard her final words at the same time he had. “Emily.”

She moves so she’s stood in front of him, somehow having taken her shoes off without him noticing so their true height difference is noticeable. He looks down at her and she's looking at him so kindly, her eyes full of so much love and understanding for him that he almost loses it there and then.

“Is Jack in bed?” She asks as she grabs Aaron’s hand, smiling as he nods in answer. “Let’s go to bed, love.”

She leads him to his bedroom and gets ready in silence. Getting pyjamas, that used to be his, out of the drawers that now have more of her clothes in than his, and changing quickly in front of him, encouraging him to do the same.

Emily gets into bed and sits with her back against the headboard, patiently waiting for him to join her. He does, he sits next to her and pulls the covers over them both, the chilly November air feeling sharper now he is in bed. She drags him down to her, makes him rest against her as she puts her arms around him, and that’s what makes the dam break.

Aaron rests his head on her shoulder and presses his face into her neck, trying to hide his tears from her even though he knows she’ll be able to feel them against her skin.

Emily holds him tighter to her, she cups the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, and she kisses his forehead. “You’re ok, honey.” She whispers against his skin, her nose pressed against his temple. “You’re ok.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologises, looking up at her. The look of annoyance at his apology on her face almost makes him laugh despite the circumstances.

“You don’t have to apologise, Aaron. You loved her, you still do.” She says, pushing some hair off of his forehead. “Grief doesn’t just go away after a certain amount of time.”

She shifts them so they are laying down, and she curls around his back. Presses her body into him so he can feel all of her. She rubs her hand in gentle circles on his chest until he falls asleep.

When he wakes in the morning he’s curled around her, taking comfort from her kindness and her warmth. Her fingers gently skipping over his temple tells him she is already awake.

“Good morning.” She says quietly, as if she is worried she’ll disturb him.

“Morning.”

“What are you going to do today?” She asks gently, running her hand through his hair.

“What I usually do.” He says, grabbing one of her hands and linking their fingers together. “Take Jack to her grave and put flowers there. I try to think of a memory I have of her that I haven’t told him yet, give him something new about her.”

“That’s sweet.” She smiles at him, nothing but adoration for him on her face. “What did you do when you were gone?”

“There was a nice park near where we lived that she would have liked. We took flowers there. It was nice.” He reaches out and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “Jessica told me that someone always put flowers on Haley’s grave whilst we were gone, but she never figured out who.”

“Oh.” She replies, suddenly looking unsure about something. She bites her lip before she looks at him. “That...that was me.”

He sits up suddenly, dislodging her from him. She sits up too, looking more unsure than ever, as if she was worried she had overstepped.

“Really?” He asks and she nods. “Why?”

Emily shrugs. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”

He closes the gap between them and kisses her gently, before resting his head against hers. “I love you.”

She smiles at him. “I love you too.” ______________________

They are laughing together when it happens. Sat at a junction in his car on the way to their first anniversary dinner when the car behind them doesn’t stop. The car spins, and the sound of Emily’s scream echoes around his head.

All he remembers is a sharp pain in his head, Emily trying to talk to him, and then nothing. ______________________

He wakes up to the sound of her shouting at someone. His head hurt, more than he ever remembered it hurting.

“I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up.” She says her tone a challenge to whoever she is speaking to.

Aaron opens his eyes and the room comes into focus slowly. He’s in a hospital bed, and he suddenly remembers the car accident.

“Em?”

She turns to look at him, her face softening as she looks at him. She has a bandage on her forehead, and one on her wrist. There's a small cut on her cheek that has been cleaned.

“Oh thank God.” She says, walking over from where she was standing at the end of his bed to sit on the edge of it and she grasps his hand in hers. “How are you feeling?”

His eyes flick to the nurse who was still at the end of his bed, and eyebrow raised at the pair of them before she shakes her head and walks out the room. He refocuses on his girlfriend. “My head hurts.” He lifts a hand to run a thumb over the cut on her cheek. “Are you ok?”

She scoffs. “I’m fine, they’ve already discharged me.” Emily takes a deep breath and her chin trembles. “You took the worst of it.”

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

“Aaron. You wouldn’t wake up.” She says, her fingernails digging into his hand as she holds it tighter. “I…I was so worried.”

“Em-”

“You can’t do that to me again.” She smiles at him but it’s shaky, a tremor to her bottom lip that she doesn’t try to hide from him. “I’m too old to start over.” She jokes, lifting their joint hands to her lips to press a kiss into his skin. “And I quite like having you around. So please, no more dramatics ok? I think we’ve both been through enough.”

Aaron considers trying to reason with her. To remind her it had been a car accident, one that was completely the fault of the other driver. He couldn’t have stopped it. But she looks so upset, so wrecked by whatever had transpired between their car being hit and him waking up in hospital, that he simply nods.

“Okay, love.” He can’t help but smile back when she smiles brilliantly at him. “I’ll do my best.” He kisses her, but the movement strains his chest making him groan. “We may have to take a raincheck on our anniversary plans.” ______________________

It’s another month before they can actually celebrate their anniversary. Jack is with Jessica for the night, having made a crass comment about giving Aaron and Emily space that made both of them blush and the teenager laugh.

He makes her dinner, her favourite pasta accompanied by a wine she likes. They share a glass despite not needing to, sitting pressed together on his couch. That's when he asks her to move in with him.

He’s ready for a fight over it. Arguments in his head are already planned where he tells her she spends most of the time at his place anyway, that he can’t remember the last time they spent apart when she wasn’t away on a case. That when she says the word ‘home’ it never means her own apartment anymore.

Emily agrees immediately, smiling widely at him as she climbs into his lap. Kissing him as she asks him what took so long to ask her.

They barely make it to the bedroom, him pressing her against the wall, not wanting to wait another second until he’s inside of her. Her laugh turns into a moan, and any quip she had about him being too old to fuck her that way dies on her lips as he does exactly that.

He carries her to the bed afterwards, holding her close to his chest, his hands running up and down her spine. He hopes she sleeps. The car crash they had been in had featured in most of her dreams recently, her waking up and thinking he was dead. It always took him time to calm her down, to remind him that he was right there.

“Aaron?” She murmurs, half asleep against him.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Let’s find somewhere new.” She turns her head to press a kiss into his chest. “I’ve always wanted a house. A small garden where I can fail at growing vegetables.”

He laughs against the top of her head before pressing a kiss there. “Whatever you want, Em. Let’s find somewhere to call home.”

She’s mostly asleep. The way her words fall unbidden from her but slurred together give her away. “You are my home.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #angst #just so much angst #Riptide

[acreativeme]

Generational Trauma

Generational Trauma 

Clinton Skye x Reader 

Y/N snuck down onto the floor of her bathroom, positive pregnancy test sitting on the sink. They couldn’t be pregnant, she thought. They weren’t even supposed to be together. Y/N and her partner, Clinton Skye, grew up thinking that the other was an undomesticated beast or at least that is what their parents taught them. 

“Baby? Everything alright?” Clinton asked, sensing something was up with her.

Y/N coughed, quickly brushing the tears away. “Yeah, everything is fine.” She got up and opened the door. “I’m pregnant.” She blurted. 

Clinton’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

She nodded her head. “The test came back positive.” She held it up to him. “I need to meet with my doctor to confirm.”

He tossed the test onto the counter behind her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Yeah!” He picked her up, which made her laugh. “We are going to be parents!” 

Once she was back on the ground, Y/N sighed. “Speaking of parents, when are we going to tell ours about us? I mean we’ve been together for years and we are going to be parents ourselves.”

He caressed her cheek, trying to distract her. “I don’t think now is the best time to tell them, my folks are still mourning Angelyne’s death.”

Y/N froze, knowing that was not the complete truth. “Clinton, she’s been dead for over a year now. Don’t you think that learning they are going to be grandparents again will make them happy?” 

He gave her a skeptical look. “I don’t think so..” 

She nodded in understanding. “You don’t think them finding out who the mother is, is going to help.” She stepped around him, moving towards the closet. “I get it.” She threw some clothes into a suitcase. 

“That’s not what I meant…” He tried to back track.

She held up a hand to silence him. “That is exactly what you meant.” She moved around him to get some things out of their shared bathroom. “I think that I am going to visit my parents.” 

He grabbed her wrist. “That’s not necessary, baby.” he was practically begging her not to go.

She looked down at his hand, not having the mental strength to deal with this anymore. “Let go, Clinton.” She muttered, not looking up to meet his eyes.

He let her go, not saying anything as she walked away from him. His own tears began to fall as he heard the front door shut.

Y/N’S POV

Y/N sat in the driveway for a few moments, hoping that Clinton would come after her. But he didn’t. There was no movement at the windows from the living room or their bedroom, so she took that as a sign to leave. She brushed away the tears as she put her car in drive, not wanting to break down.

She wanted to get to her parents before day break, but had to stop after only three hours.  She pulled into a gas station, needing gas and a bathroom break. There was no one else at the station other than the clerk, a young edgy looking woman with headphones in. Y/N sat in the bathroom, crying into her hands. She briefly glanced at her phone, not seeing anything from Clinton. A part of her had hoped that he would come to his senses and reach out to her, but he didn’t. I guess he doesn’t care as much as I thought he did. She thought, wiping her tears away. She finished up quickly, wanting to get some snacks and go. 

She grabbed a couple bottles of water, two bags of BBQ chips, and a king size pack of Reese. The clerk didn’t say anything to her other than the price of her snacks-- didn’t even offer her a bag or anything. Y/N gave her a small smile, not wanting to come off as rude, and wished her a goodnight. Y/N tossed her items into the passenger seat, so that she could get gas. She got back on the road quickly, putting on music to distract her from the fact that the person that she loves has not attempted to make contact with her. 

She made it to her parents home by 6 am, having only stopped to reach out to her employees about opening the shop without her for a few days. 

Her father was standing on the front porch as she got out of her car. “Alskling, what are you doing here?” His baritone voice was laced with sleep. 

Y/N choked back a sob. “Pappa, I made a mistake.” She walked closer to him.

He stepped down off the porch to wrap her in his arms. “It is okay, pappa is here for you.” He slowly began ushering her into the house. “Tell pappa what has happened.” 

She stepped away from him. “I am pregnant, pappa, with Clinton Skye’s baby.” 

Clinton’s POV…

He snuck to his knees as Y/N walked out of their shared room. He didn’t know why he let her walk away from him, but he couldn’t make himself go after her. 

Or even get up from the floor. He sat there all night, just staring into space. He was startled awake from his daydream by his phone buzzing in his pocket. 

In a panic, Clinton fumbled with his phone. “Y/N?”

Jess frowned on his side of the phone. “No? It’s Jess. Is everything okay?”

Clinton sighs upset that it wasn’t Y/N. “Yeah, everything is fine. What can I do for you?”

“We’ve got a case, how quickly can you get here?” Jess asks worry, burying itself in his chest. 

“I can be there in 30 minutes.” He hung up without furthering the conversation that he knew Jess wanted to have. 

He changed out of yesterday’s clothes, not bothering to fix his hair or put on deodorant. His heart ached as he moved through the house in silence. He was so used to hearing Y/N humming in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for them. She would dance along to whatever was playing in her head, without fear of judgement.  

He didn’t linger too long in the house, knowing that he would lose all composure. He was quick about getting in his car and going, not wanting to think about their driveway without her car.

Y/N’s POV…

Y/N sat against the headboard of her childhood bed, knees pressed to her chest. Her father had spent the first two hours of her visit yelling at her about the bad choices that she was making. And how he couldn’t believe she would sleep with the enemy. Her mother had come down, still in her night clothes and rob, as he was forcing Y/N to sit on the couch. Her mother had started to chastise him, but was stopped by his raised hand. 

“What is going on, Hugo?” Astrid asked, coming to stand behind her daughter.

“Our daughter has been keeping a secret from us.” He crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. 

Y/N sighed. “Mamma, I’ve been dating Clinton Skye for nearly ten years. We moved in together last year, that is why I haven’t invited you all to my new place.” Y/N turned around to make eye contact with her mother. “And I am pregnant with his child.”

Astrid gasped, clutching her heart and covering her mouth. “Oh, Alskling. Why did you do this to us?” She turned to her upset husband, “where did we go wrong?!” 

This continued for another hour and forty-five minutes, before her mother sent her upstairs to get some rest. They wanted to talk about everything that she shared with them, disappointment displayed clearly on their faces. Even though Y/N is in her early thirties, her parents still have a lot of control with her life. They had immigrated from Sweden right after they got married, barely 20 years old, to escape a family feud of their own-- which makes what they are doing hypocritical. Y/N never questioned her parents disdain for the Skye family, until she met Clinton Skye and he turned out to be nothing like what her parents told her.

Y/N was subconsciously rubbing her stomach when her parents walked in, both looking stern and upset. “Alskling, we’ve decided to send you to Sweden for a few months to stay with family.” Her father stated, not leaving room for discussion. 

Y/N gasped, standing up from the bed, “you can’t do that, pappa. I am an adult. And I’ve got a business to run, I can’t just leave for a few months!”

Her father puffed up his chest, “Either you go to Sweden like we have said, or you will be disowned and will never be allowed to talk to us or your siblings again.” His tone was serious and hard, which threw her off as she had never heard him talk like that.

Her mother, who had been silently standing by the door, spoke up. “You will have no help with the baby and no inheritance to be able to support you and the baby.”

Y/N laughed, brushing her tears away, “you think I care about money? I make good money on my own, if you hadn’t noticed.” She looked down, knowing her choice. “I will go to Sweden, but I need to make arrangements for my business.” She wasn’t going to be able to raise this baby without help and without Clinton, her family was all she had left. 

Clinton’s POV…

He couldn’t focus. His heart ached as the hours passed without word from Y/N. Even though they were fighting, he still hoped that she would reach out to him and let him know that she was okay. His withdrawn behavior was worrying the team. 

“Clinton, can we talk for a moment?” Jess asked, pointing to a door that led outside.  

He looked up, nodding, “yes.” 

Jess led him off to the side, trying to make sure no one else would overhear them. “I am concerned for you, Clint. It is not like you to be so unfocused, especially on a case.” 

“Nothing is wrong, Jess.” He tried to deny it, but neither believed him. 

Jess reached out and patted his shoulder. “You should call her.” 

Clinton looked up at him. “What?”

Jess sighed, “you should give Y/N a call. You haven’t been yourself for the last couple of days and it is starting to affect your work. And we can’t have that, especially not with this case.” 

After taking in what Jess was saying, Clinton nodded and went off to call her. He had tried her phone twice, but was sent straight to voicemail--which he found odd. He dialed the number for her shop, silently hoping that she was busy there and wasn’t ignoring his calls.

After three rings, a female voice answered. “Stargazing Sweets, this is Melinda. How can I help you?” The voice was cheerful and sweet.

His heart sank. “Melinda, it is Clinton. I am trying to get a hold of Y/N. Is she there?”

“Oh hello, Clinton! She didn’t tell you, weird? She is going off to Sweden for a little bit to visit a sick relative!” There was a pause and a rustling noise, “from the email that she sent me, I think that her flight should be leaving in the next couple of hours.”

His breath caught in his throat. How could she not have told him that she was leaving? “Thank you, Melinda. I am going to try and give another call.” 

“No problemo! Have a good one, Clinton!” Click. She hung up on him.

Clinton sighed, anger burning in his chest. How did their relationship go from laughter and bubble baths to her leaving the country and not telling him? In frustration, Clinton punched a tree. In hindsight, it was not a very bright move because now his hand hurt. He stalked back into the building, needing to find information on her flight.

Both Kenny and Hana were sitting at a computer, so he decided to ask them for help. “Hana, Kenny. I need your help getting information about a flight.” 

The pair shared a look, before nodding. “Sure, if it means you’ll be returning to normal.” Kenny jokes.

Uncharacteristically, Clinton glared at him. “This is not a time for your jokes, Crosby. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N and her flight is heading to Sweden.” 

The pair nodded in sync, not wanting to piss Clinton off further. Hana was the first to find anything, so without hesitation she sent it to his phone. “I found the information and have sent it to your phone. If you hurry, you might be able to catch her.” 

He smiled briefly, “Thank you.” Without any further words, Clinton walked out of the office. 

As he was opening the door to his car, he dialed his mother’s number. She picked up right away, “Hello, Mom? Is dad around, there is something I have to tell you both?” He was finally ready to share his truth.

Y/N POV…

Her parents left her at the airport, not wanting to see her off-- hell, they didn’t even say goodbye. Though she had made the decision to go to Sweden, they were still giving her the silent treatment. Clinton had called her twice as they were driving to the airport and she had to decline both of them right away, so that her parents didn’t turn around and see. As she was walking away from the luggage drop off, she received a text from Melinda that said Clinton was looking for her. She sent a thumbs up as a reply, signaling that she is aware. 

As she walked through security, she made the decision not to call him back. She knew that if she did, she’d allow herself to be talked out of leaving. And she couldn’t allow that to happen. She needs her family… but she needs him too.  She found her gate fairly easily, only stopping to buy a drink and a sandwich. Her father wouldn’t allow her to have breakfast before they left, so her and the baby were starving. 

She took a seat by a window, wanting to watch the employees work. She slipped her headphones in, wanting to keep strangers from interacting with her. She wasn’t feeling music, so she turned on the latest episode of her favorite podcast, Ladies & Tangents (which is an actual podcast that I love!). Y/N picked at her sandwich, zoning out as Jeri and Ciara joked about shitting in a closet. She was so focused on the podcast that she didn’t notice someone walk up to her, which is something that Clinton had taught her not to do. She nearly jumped out of her skin as the person bent down in front of her.

Pulling off her headphones, Y/N shook her head. “What are you doing here, Clinton?” She asked, both equally shocked and happy about him being there.

He reached forward to hold her hands. “I heard you were going to Sweden and I wanted to see if I could get you to stay.” He squeezed her hands, voice cracking. “I am so sorry. I messed up. I was so worried that my parents would hold you in the same regards as your family. I was scared and I let that fear affect our relationship, which is something I should’ve talked to you about and not kept to myself.”

A tear ran down her cheek. “Oh, Clinton. I have to go…” She trailed off, not really wanting to admit why.

He tried to brush the tears away, heart aching at how broken she looked. “Why do you have to go?” She looked away from him, which caused him to try and turn her face to look at him. “Y/N, what aren’t you telling me?” She took a deep breath, trying to build up the courage to tell him the truth. “My parents threatened to disown me and keep me away from my siblings. I told them about us and they threatened to disown me.” She blurted, not being able to hold back.

Clinton froze, feeling every ounce of pain pouring out of her. “Oh, baby.” He pulled her to his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I told my parents about us. I told them that you were nothing like your parents, that you made it your mission to learn about our heritage.” He whispered.

She pulled back, shock evident in her eyes. “You did?” 

He nodded, “and they would like to meet you, but only if you want.” 

She looked over his shoulder at her gate, trying to decide what she wanted to do. “I think..” flashes of her parents judging her and not listening to anything she tried to tell them popped up, making it an easy decision. “I think I would love to meet them.”

Clinton grinned, happy tears falling down his cheeks. “Good,” he stood up, “because I’ve already had the airport pull your luggage from baggage claim…” He stated bashfully.

She smacked his chest as he helped her up. “How could you be so confident that I would say yes to coming back with you?” 

He shrugged, throwing his arm over her shoulder, “Baby, I just know you so well.” He pecked to the side of her head.

They both laughed at that, happy to be together again.

#requested #FBI Most Wanted #fbi most wanted imagine #clinton skye #clinton skye imagines #family drama #baby #imagines #one shots #generational trauma #sweetswriting

[conradscrime]

Amelia Dyer: World’s Most Prolific Female Serial Killer?

April 28, 2021 

Amelia Dyer (born Ameila Hobley) was born in a small village called Pyle Marsh east of Bristol in 1836, being the youngest of 5 children born to Samuel and Sarah Hobley. 

Amelia’s mother suffered from mental illnesses caused by typhus and from a young age Amelia watched her mother fly into violent fits and had to take care of her until she died in 1848, when Amelia was 12 years old.

After Amelia’s mother died she moved in and lived with one of her aunts in Bristol, gaining an apprenticeship with a corset maker. Amelia’s father died in 1859 and in 1861 at the age of 24 Amelia married a man named George Thomas. George was 59 at the time and both had lied about their ages on the marriage certificate. 

Amelia trained as a nurse after marrying George. However, soon after this Amelia met a midwife where she discovered that an easier way to make money was by opening up her home as a place to stay for women who were having babies illegitimately, that is, getting pregnant without being married first. The women could stay until they had their baby and then the babies would be farmed off for either adoption or they would die from neglect and malnutrition (similar to the Butterbox Babies, previously covered on this blog). 

Amelia’s husband died in 1869 which left her needing an income fast. She began to advertise her services which included nurse care, adoption services, and just childcare for parents who needed it and they could come reclaim their children at a later date. Amelia told the women that she was respectable and married and their babies would be safe with her. 

In 1872 Amelia married a man named William Dyer and they had two children of their own. Amelia eventually left William but kept his surname throughout the rest of her life.

There is no specific details of when this began exactly but at one point during this baby farming career, Amelia began to forgo the expense of letting the young babies and children die through starvation and after the receipt of each child she would murder them. This allowed her to keep most of the fees. 

It was easy for Amelia to get away with this for quite some time because the mothers of the babies and children usually did not go looking for them after birth, and if they did they were too embarrassed to get a welfare check done on the child because it was very looked down upon to have an illegitimate child. 

In 1879 a doctor became suspicious of Amelia due to the number of child deaths he had been called to certify. However, Amelia was only sentenced to complete 6 months of hard labour for neglect. According to some, this sentence of hard labour was extremely difficult on Amelia and resulted in her having poor mental health and suicidal tendencies. She was also heavily drinking alcohol and abusing opium-based products when she first began to kill which some think attributed to her poor mental health. 

Because of the doctor’s constant suspicions, Amelia decided to stop involving him to issue death certificates and so she began to murder the babies and then dispose of the bodies herself. A lot of people were keeping eyes on her, not only authorities but also parents who wanted to reclaim their children again. To try to avoid this, Amelia and her family would relocate to different cities and she would use a number of aliases to keep her true identity hidden. Keep in mind this is the end of the 19th century -- it was easy to relocate and start a new life at this time. 

Due to her suicide attempts and mental health struggles Amelia was sent to asylums a few times in her life and in 1893 she was discharged the last time from the Somerset and Bath Lunatic Asylum near Wells. In 1895 she moved to Reading, Berkshire with a woman named Jane “Granny” Smith, Amelia’s daughter, Polly, and Polly’s husband Arthur. “Granny” was to be called “mother” in front of the unwed mothers handing over their children so that they felt safe, knowing they were giving their child to a caring home. 

In January 1896 a woman named Evelina Marmon, 25, gave birth to a daughter illegitimately and she was named Doris. Evelina placed an advertisement for a respectable woman to come take her child for a short period of time while she went back to work. She had full intentions of reclaiming her child. 

Evelina saw an advertisement for a couple who were looking to adopt a healthy child and she responded to a “Mrs. Harding” (Amelia Dyer) who promised she would take care of the baby. Amelia took the baby one week later, wrote a letter to Evelina telling her all was well and then she was never heard of again. 

Amelia had told Evelina that she was taking the young Doris to Reading, Berkshire, however she actually took her to Willesden, London where Polly was living. Amelia took some white edging tape used for dressmaking and wound it twice around the baby’s neck, tying a knot. Then Amelia and Polly wrapped the body up in a napkin. The next day, April 1, 1896, a 13 month old boy named Harry Simmons was given to Amelia and because she had no edging tape left she took the tape from around Doris’ neck and used it to murder the boy. 

On April 2, she took both bodies and stacked them on top of each other into a carpet bag along with some bricks to add some weight. She then took the bag and took it to the River Thames, forcing it through the railings. 

Unlucky for Amelia, her scheme was up. On March 30, 1896 what appeared to be a package that was not weighted adequately from the Thames had been spotted by a bargeman. Inside was the body of a baby girl who was later identified as Helena Fry. They discovered the package belong to a “Mrs. Thomas” and found an address. 

On April 3, 1896 Amelia was expecting a new client to show up on her doorstep but didn’t know this “new client” was actually a decoy set up by police. When she opened her door, police raided her home. They found no human remains in the house, though the whole place smelled like decomposition. They found a lot of other evidence, such as pawn tickets for children’s clothing, telegrams with adoption arrangements, white edging tape and letters from mother’s asking about their children. 

Amelia Dyer was arrested and charged with murder on April 4, 1896. Police estimated that in the previous couple of months at least 20 children had been placed in her care, and they also discovered she was getting ready to move again, to Somerset. Some estimated that Amelia Dyer murdered over 400 babies and children.

They also searched the Thames and found 6 more bodies including Doris and Harry’s who were the last victims. Amelia pleaded guilty to only the murder of Doris on May 22, 1896. The defense used insanity, claiming that Amelia was unstable and had been committed to asylums in her life. However, the prosecution claimed Amelia only was committed to asylums as a ploy to keep her undetected, she only went to these asylums when she felt her crimes may be exposed.

The jury found Amelia Dyer guilty in 4 and a half minutes. Amelia Dyer was hanged by James Billington at Newgate Prison on June 10, 1896. Her last words were, “I have nothing to say.” 

Stricter adoption laws were put in place, allowing local authorities to police baby farms to stop abuse from happening within them. Despite this however this abuse didn’t stop. In 1898 two years after Amelia’s execution, a couple of railway workers found a parcel with a 3 week old baby girl inside. The girl was still alive and had been the daughter a widow named Jane Hill who claimed she had given the baby to a woman by the name of “Mrs. Stewart” for 12 pounds. It has been claimed that “Mrs. Stewart” was Polly, Amelia Dyer’s daughter. 

#solved #true crime #Crime #female #serialkiller

[petri808]

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— I just wanna say thank you so much to everyone who followed along, your comments and suggestions along the way really helped to bring this story to life! It’s my longest fic to date, and to think it started as a one-shot for nalu day 2020 lol. YOU GUYS HELPED MAKE THIS HAPPEN! 🥳🥰🥰 ILY YOU ALL!💜💜💜💜

@mcornilliac special shout out for you help with the toughest part 😘

Even after all these years, riding on a train still brought a small flutter to Lucy’s stomach as she remembered the long ago evening when she’d met her husband. From an innocent meeting to a death defying experience, talk about a roller coaster ride. And yet, if she had to do it all over again, Lucy wouldn’t change a thing. Crazy sounding yes, for why would anyone not want to avoid what she’d gone through? Touka had truly pushed her sanity to the breaking point, but well, the therapist was right in the end and Lucy felt almost invincible now. All that pain, all the struggle she’d pushed through had made her the strong and resilient woman she was today. Happily married to Natsu with their fraternal twins Nashi and Ryuu. Mrs. Natsu Dragneel, Lucy smiled to herself, there was no way she’d change a thing.

Of course, it hadn’t been easy. After Natsu proposed and Lucy had accepted, there were still a lot of work to be done. But that measure of acceptance and affection did wonders. Any worries she’d had that he wouldn’t want a broken woman melted away and gave her the confidence to get better. With each passing therapy session, her strength grew, and by the time they graduated college, Lucy could honestly say she’d been cured to a functional degree. No longer struggling through nightmares and panic attacks, her anxieties were under control and the debilitating depression a distant memory where it belonged.

Yeah... Lucy sighed happily as she watched the landscape pass by from her train seat. Meeting Natsu was the best thing to ever happen in her life, well, aside from the kids. They’d married about a year after graduation on the anniversary of their meeting. It was a beautiful affair at an indoor venue, with close friends and family to join them. They’d gone a more modern route for the ceremony but did take pictures at a garden dressed in the traditional attire for sentimental reasons. Lucy wore the shiromuku white kimono while Natsu a montsuki haori hakama. And no, it wasn’t train themed! Levy was the Maid of Honor and Gray was the best man. By then, Levy and Gajeel were also married and Gray in a serious relationship with a girl named Juvia Lockser. Lucy was so happy for them both. All of their lives were moving in the right direction.

Everything was perfect. Great jobs in their fields of interest, lives settled into a comfortable routine, when 5 years later Lucy was pregnant with fraternal twins. It was a total surprise since twins didn’t run in either of their families. Always the jovial optimist, Natsu joked that they’d been doubly blessed because of what they’d gone through, and Lucy couldn’t help but love such a concept. Of course, once the euphoria of the motherhood prospect waned, reality set in that she was having twins! Two! Double the babies meant double of everything, from the pregnancy concerns to raising them. Growing up without a mother and as an only child, Lucy didn’t have a lot of experience with small children. But Natsu patiently assured her, that she’d do just fine. Think of it as a new challenge, and after overcoming one pretty tough situation, this would be a walk in the park. On the bright side, Levy was also pregnant with the couple’s first child so the two best friend’s kids would grow up together.

And Natsu was right, there were a few bumps in the road but nothing too difficult. During her fourth month Lucy was diagnosed with gestational diabetes as well as some minor gastrointestinal issues, so Natsu swayed the doctor to put her on bed rest. Better safe than sorry. The babies were healthy, but by the 7th month, she really couldn’t move much, and she was miserable being stuck at home all the time. Lucy missed her job because she genuinely enjoyed working for the magazine. But in the end, it had been a good thing. She could manage her health easier that way and it gave her time to do something she’d thought about doing as part of the healing process. With Natsu’s support and permission, it was time to put her writing skills to good use and write a book about their experience.

It became an instant hit, especially with female readers. The book was not only an autobiographical reflection of what had happened to them but focused on shining a light on the dangers of stalkers, as well as the importance of taking the warning signs seriously. Lucy didn’t hold back in her re-telling, even pointing out the serious flaws in Japan’s laws in protecting citizens from stalkers which at the time were nonexistent. Feminist organizations working to change those laws used her story with permission for their cause. She had no intentions of becoming a poster child for the movement, but in the end her role may have played its part, because 2 years after the publishing, Japan finally adopted anti-stalking laws making it easier for police to string together harassment cases, as well as for victims to get the help they needed.

Her life was nothing but exciting to say the least! And with two young children, now age 10 certainly kept them on their toes. Their daughter Nashi was just like Natsu, very outgoing, friendly, but a bit of a daredevil while her brother Ryuu born 4 minutes after her was the quieter of the two. He preferred books like his mother to adventure. Of course, that never stopped Nashi from dragging him into shenanigans! But the best part was how close they still were and fiercely protective of each other. Lucy and Natsu couldn’t be prouder of them and hoped this would continue throughout their lifetimes.

Fifteen years... come to think of it, their wedding anniversary was coming up shortly. With Natsu now a senior fire inspector for the Tokyo prefectural government, he was often busy. Lucy did mind it, because frankly it gave her some peace and quiet. She chuckled at the thought. Not that it was all that peaceful with the twins. But she digressed. His success meant their lives were very comfortable, and her own journalism successes while not as financially based, were still celebrated in their relationship. Natsu never waned in being the dutiful and supportive, always loving husband that Lucy felt blessed to grow old with.

‘Two more stops, pick up the kids from school, stop at the grocery store for dinner...’ Lucy tapped out on her phone a to-do list of ingredients to pick up at the store. Perhaps katsudon... ‘Mmm, or maybe nabe,’ hot-pot soup since it was expected to be a bit chilly that evening.

Lucy looked up briefly, really just spacing out in thought when someone catches her eye. At the other end of the train car, she noticed a woman facing slightly away, but enough to where she couldn’t quite see a face. It couldn’t be... Lucy looked away not wanting to stare, but somehow... for some reason the woman was awfully familiar... looking exactly like Touka. Well, not exactly, but enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was a blonde, with a different hair style— and that could always be changed. Similar body type, the facial side-profile features that Lucy could see resembled Touka...

Now despite being better, her anxieties still bubbled up from time to time, so she immediately switched to her coping techniques to calm them down. ‘You’re fine,’ Lucy talked herself through it, ‘no point in getting riled up.’ The woman hadn’t done so much as looked in her direction, so it must be okay. Contrary to popular belief, things like depression and anxiety never fully goes away, especially when someone has experienced a severe level of it. Those emotions and irrational thoughts are forever programmed into the brain, but there are ways to keep them at bay and Lucy’s successfully done just that for 15 years.

‘Just go back to what you were doing. Katsudon or nabe? And don’t forget you need to pick up milk...’ But, fifteen years... could Touka have been released by now? Lucy shook the thought away again. ‘Stop it! Everything is fine. It’s not her!’ The train was semi-full of passengers all minding their own business... including the woman. There was no reason to start panicking now. Lucy adjusts her position on her seat away from the woman’s direction. If she couldn’t see her, she could pretend she didn’t exist. ‘Maybe I should pick up ingredients for both, that way I don’t have to shop tomorrow.’ Lucy thought to herself, and with the kids with her, they could help in carrying the shopping bags. ‘Yeah, we’ve got a plan…’

After figuring out her shopping list, Lucy pulled up social media to keep herself distracted and for a few minutes it did the trick. Silly videos of entertainers never got old. The train reached the next stop and she felt it come to a stop. Since it wasn’t hers, she didn’t pay it any mind as she scrolled through her feed. But as the disembarking passengers funnel past Lucy, her eyes pick up on a pair of pink high-heels peeking from over the edge of her phone. Her body instantly stiffened up from the similarity to the ones worn by the woman, while her curiosity slowly got the better of her. ‘Breath, act nonchalant!’ Lucy’s eyes tracked the high-heels moving past her until they left her periphery. She then slowly sat back up, pretending to readjust her position, when she caught a pair of eyes looking back. Lucy’s breathing hitches with a shaky exhale. “Oh, my god—"

Standing at the doorway with one hand on the frame, the blonde woman smiled at Lucy then winked before stepping off the train.

It was Touka!

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #fairy tail #strangers on a train #epilogue #petri808