#ive been sitting on that jesse one a LONG time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hugshughes · 3 months

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Patience is a Virtue C. Loveland

Colston Loveland x fem!Minter!reader

synopsis - Colston gets the trophy, and finally gets the girl.

wc - 3.8k

contains - UNEDITED! this is based off of this request! READER IS COACH MINTER(michigan defensive coordinator)'S DAUGHTER!!!!!!! kissing, hugging, fluff, cursing, stress over the game. guys if u don't like my cute outfit i picked then #1 ur a hater and #2 it's not a big deal! think of something else🤞🤞🤞 cause my Adidas navy handballs with gold accents ARE STAYING. there IS a picture of the outfit im describing but im obvi not gonna stick it in the middle of the fic so if anyone wants that i guess request or message me lols?

an - GUYS PLEASE LET THIS POST LETS PRAY TOGETHER. THIS WAS CUTE. i've been getting the BEST requests lately. i'm on my Michigan FOOTBALL grind. ive spent a long while introducing the jesse minter daughter reader.... she might have to stick around. i want to write for Blake Corum but don't know what to do because literally all i have written for the past week is like "girlfriend or friend of player reader comes to watch their playoff game, reader and love interest kiss after love interest wins game" so... DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVEEEE WRITING THAT SHIT. but it feels so repetitive. BUT THIS? I LOVED THIS. daughter of the coach is so scandalous and i love it. minter is only 40 so like we're just saying he had his daughter (reader) pretty young, like 21. hope u enjoyyyyyyyy ;)!

You woke up with a start. Your body jolted as you brain registered a shout somewhere in the room. You sucked in a breath, opening your eyes, only to close them again. You squinted, trying to orient yourself. You were in a hotel room, your brothers were the ones shouting.

You groaned at the realization, then let out a shout when you felt three small bodies land on top of you.

"Holy shit, get off of me!"

They immediately scrambled, most likely going to tell your mom you cursed in their presence. You loved your 3 baby siblings, but they were pains in your ass sometimes.

You heard a faint "she said shit mommy!" in the conjoining hotel room, and rolled your eyes. You sat in bed, stretching, grabbing your phone before grabbing your bag and locking yourself in the bathroom before your mom could scold you so your siblings shut up about it.

Today was the college football playoff championship, and it was safe to say your family members above the age of 8 were stressed. It was 8:11, and you had to be out the door by 9:50. You showered, drying your hair after and then starting to pick your outfit. You brought a lot of different gear, you had not clue what you wanted to wear to the game. You had so much Michigan gear, and even more maize and navy colored clothing, courtesy to your father.

After almost 30 minutes, you decided on a cute denim skirt, a maize long sleeve, and your navy Adidaas Handballs. You perfected your hair and makeup, successfully erasing any signs that you'd only been awake for about an hour.

You came out of the bathroom all put together, your bag and pajamas in hand. Your siblings were sitting on your bed, watching something on the TV. Since you guys had 6 people in your family, you'd gotten two hotel rooms with the connecting door in the middle. You slept in one room with your little sister on the other bed, and your parents and brothers slept in the other room. You walked through the connecting door, checking the time. 9:17.

Your mom was getting ready in the bathroom when you walked into it. You sat on the closed lid toilet and started talking to her about the plans for today.

"You really gotta stop cursing in front of the littles!"

Your mother scolded you, a grin wide on her face. She was joking, of course. You and your parents had always been close, you'd been their baby for the longest. You'd been with them since they were two just married 20 year olds in college. Not that you remembered it, but you were there for all of your dad's junior and senior year games when he played at MSJ. You'd been there through all the coaching jobs. From Cincinnati, to Georgia State, to the Baltimore Ravens, you'd been there through all of it.

You sat with your mom until it was time to go. Your dad corralled everyone together, taking a photo before you all headed to the elevator. When an elevator came, it opened up and there was barely any room unless your parents held two of your siblings, so you told them to go ahead and that you would wait for the next one.

You only waited about a minute before the doors slid open again, revealing none other than Colston Loveland. His eyes lit up, a grin shining on his beautiful face. You'd always had a weird little thing with Colston. No words were ever said about it, but there had always been a vibe between you.

Being the daughter of the defensive coordinator definitely drove a lot of the guys, even ones you had classes and other school related things with, far far away. The boys knew how protective their coach was of his family, and didn't want any bad blood on the team. Something about you just attracted Colston so heavily. He knew he shouldn't even think about it, but he never could help himself.

"Hey coach."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you stepped into the elevator. He always called you coach, he had to remind you he was one of your dad's players. You would've loved to forget that for two seconds.

"Hi Cole."

He could've died. You'd called him Cole, instead of Colston. It was the smallest, most insignificant little thing, but it made him melt.

"Where's your family at?"

You tilted your head towards him, he wanted to talk, okay. You smiled at him, he loved it.

"The other elevator was too full, some of the guys were on the way down too."

He nodded, the smirk never leaving his face. You thought about kissing it off of him, then realized you had just thought of kissing his smirk off of him. Shit. You were in deep with this kid, and there was little to no chance anything would ever happen.

The elevator reached the lobby, and Colston gestured for you to step out first. You exited the elevator, the boy hot on your tail. You were immediately greeted by a hallway packed full of Michigan players, coaches, families, and more.

You have Colston one last glance and smile before finding your mom, taking your baby brother out of her arms and into yours, playing with him. Colston's eyes followed you, he admired you as you smiled and laughed with your brother. You were perfect. He was gonna have to find a way to get around the fact that you were his coach's daughter.

You held your brother with one arm and your sisters hand with the other as you smiled at the cameras, walking through to the buses. Your family followed behind the rest of the coaches and families, the team trailing behind you.

The ride to NRG took longer than you assumed it would, almost an hour because of the traffic, and it didn't help that everyone could tell that the buses were transporting one of the CFP Championship teams in them.

Everyone went into the stadium together, through some backstage type area. You walked with the team until you had to go separate ways. You hugged your dad, squeezing him tight. You would see him again before the game, so you saved your 'Good luck, I love you Dad.' sentiment for then.

You'd always had a special connection with your dad, you were closer to him than almost anyone else. You were his baby, his first baby. Still, you were his baby in his eyes. Your dad would do anything for you, and he was quite protective. Though he was protective, all he wanted was for you to be happy, and if it meant dating one of his guys, he would have no problem with it.

Your family sat bored in the box of the stadium, looking down on the field as Washington practiced. There was over 6 more hours till the game started, and there was practically nothing to do.

You took a nap on the carpeted floor of the box with your siblings for a couple hours, your mother snapping photos that although you were embarrassed of, were undeniably cute. Once you guys had woken up, there was about 2 hours till game time. You voted with your family on whether you guys wanted to stay in the box, or sit way close to the field. You all wanted to be closer to the field, you wanted to see the action head on.

Your family departed the box, along with a few others to see the team one more time before the game. You got down onto the field in about 20 minutes, and stood with your dad for awhile. When you were being told it was time to go, you quickly hugged your dad.

"Good luck, I love you!"

He thanked you, saying the three words back as you guys waved at him, going to leave. Your eyes caught on a certain brunette as he ran off the field, his eyes finding you quickly. He smiled at you, ugh, that smile.

"Good luck, Cole!"

You smiled at him, right before you turned to go up the tunnel. More and more fans started to pour in as you got settled into your bleacher seats. You were three rows from the bottom with a perfect view of the field. You settled in as the national anthem ended and the game began.

As the game progressed, you were so happy to say that Michigan was winning, the entire time. You'd caught Colston's eyes multiple times during the game, letting it linger for a few seconds before giving him a stern look and gesturing towards the field. He'd mouth back, 'okay, coach.' and turn back around. Your mother caught the interaction once, her heart warming seeing her baby with a crush.

You stood up, your brother in your arms as you jumped up and down, shouting, Michigan had finally won! You cheered and danced around with your little siblings as you celebrated. You were all so insanely proud of your dad. Soon though, you were being escorted to the field, eager to see your father and congratulate him.

Blood was pumping and hearts were racing as you exited the tunnel, smiles burned onto your faces as you went to look for your dad. You held your sister's hand as you two ran around, trying to find him. Your mom shouted, and you turned to look at her. She pointed to your left, and there stood your dad, hugging one of his players. Your sister went back to your mom, to walk over to your dad with her as you all but sprinted over to your dad, weaving in between sweaty boys and families.

Your dad saw you incoming and held his arms out accepting your forceful hug. You both laughed, your dad squeezing you tightly. Your best friend had finally done it.

"Literally told you you would do it."

He laughed again, agreeing as he laid a kiss to your temple, pulling back with one arm to accept your other siblings into the hug, who'd finally made their way over. After a minute, you took your siblings from your dad so your mom could hug him, and kiss him, much to your brothers' disgust.

After talking with your dad for a little, you spotted a familiar 6'5 frame standing by himself as his teammates walked away from him. You sauntered over, shouting his name when you were in earshot. The brunette quickly turned around, the smile already gracing his face deepening.

"Well hi, coach."

"Congratulations, Cole. You know your catches were pretty legit."

You gave him a slightly impressed face, shrugging your shoulders. He laughed, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You can't win 'em all over, can you?"

You laughed in turn, stepping closer to him. Colston's heart was racing as he looked down into your eyes.

"But really, Cole, you were incredible, serious."

He nodded, accepting your praise with a grin, before he looked around, over-exaggerating a look of being in thought.

"You know, coach, I think I might just deserve a reward, for my quote incredible performance."

Your eyes widened, your heart starting off, faster and faster.

"Really? What might that entail, Cole?"

Shit, he was gonna have to kiss you if you kept calling him that. He was about to take the leap. He knew he had to at some point, and he was on an adrenaline rush, that just chanted at him to do it.

"Well I think it entails you accepting a date with me back in Michigan."

Your jaw dropped slightly, you were dumbfounded. Colston really wanted to go on a date with you?

"For real?"

Colston nodded, seemingly confident, though he was shaking in his boots on the inside.

"Well then, I think we can make that work."

Colston's heart erupted. He literally could not have been happier. He'd just won the Natty, and got his dream girl to agree to a date, holy fuck. You got nervous all of the sudden, leaning up to kiss his cheek, before turning to leave.

"Just text me, Cole!"

He nodded, his eyes following you as you went to go find your family again. His family came back over to him, they'd been gone for just a second but stopped and waited when they saw him talking to you. His family, especially his mom, knew quite a bit about you.

You found your family, immediately grabbing your moms hand to pull her a few steps away. You looked at her with the biggest eyes ever, still in shock over what had just happened.

"What's up, sweetheart? Why are you all, thousand yard stare-y?"

"Mom Colston just asked me out, and I said yes! And then I kissed his cheek! And then I left!"

Your mom laughed, her baby was finally growing up. You'd had a few boyfriends in all your days, but you'd never been proper crushing like you were right now.

"That's so good! I knew this was coming, we just had to wait for one of you to get the courage."

You blushed, hiding your face in your hands. Your smile suddenly dropped, a realization coming to you.

"Is dad gonna hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?"

Shit.

You ended up telling your dad later on in the night, when you were tired and sitting in the back of a restaurant the team was celebrating in. Your family didn't party for too long, having a 4, 7, and 8 year old didn't exactly allow you guys to stay out for too long. Even your parents 19 year old daughter got a bit cranky if she stayed out too late.

When you told your dad, he just laughed. He knew you and Colston had things for each other, he was waiting for the tight end to make a move.

You were stressing. Tonight was your date with Colston. You sat at your vanity, ranting to your roommate over it. You put on makeup and did your hair, wanting to look cute but not over the top.

Colston had told you to wear comfy clothes, so you were in one of your most common outfits. Leggings and a Michigan sweatshirt. You stared at yourself in the mirror, doubting yourself. You had known Colston for over a year, almost two, but you didn't really know him that well. You wanted him to like you so badly.

"Babe, you look fantastic. He's going to stare at you all night."

You sighed at your roommate's encouragement. But before you could respond, you got a text from Colston. He was outside your dorm building. Your roommate pushed you straight out the door, saying bye.

You went down the stairs quickly, making your way out of the complex. You saw Colston as you opened the door, slipping out. He looked up and smiled at you, his stupid beautiful smile.

"Hey, Gorgeous."

You felt the heat on your face even in the Ann Arbor cold. You smiled, shaking your head as you gave him a spin, showing off your extra casual outfit.

"Even in this ensemble?"

He nodded, his smile deepening. He pulled you into his side, hugging you. You were immediately enveloped in his warmth. You ducked your head down to hide the shock in your eyes. He smelled really good.

When you pulled away Colston led you to his car, opening the door for you before going around and getting in. You two buckled up before Colston pulled out of the parking spot, setting off into Ann Arbor. He gave you the aux, warming your heart. You both knew he probably didn't listen to the same music as you, but he wanted you to listen to whatever you liked.

Smaller Acts by Zach Bryan came on when you hit shuffle on your main playlist, making you smile. You resonated with the song, always having thought that smaller acts of love were more important than any grand gestures. You got to really look at Colston while he drove. He kept his eyes right on the road always, until you got to a red light, that's when you'd jerk your head back forward as he turned to look at you. He was really pretty, his jaw was so insanely defined, he had a strong neck, and the deepest brown eyes. You stared at the tattoo on his left forearm, he was hot, to put it simply.

You drove for around 40 minutes before the car slowed, pulling onto a gravel driveway. You looked out of your window, seeing a large screen and projector, and lots of cars. He had brought you to a drive in movie. You could've cried when you saw the sign reading the movie you would be seeing. Ocean's 11. The very first time you ever talked to Colston, he'd asked you your favorite movie. You said you couldn't pick one, then settled on Ocean's 11 because it was one you'd seen so many times you could quote any scene.

You couldn't believe he remembered. You'd never mentioned it since then. That was the kind of smaller, seemingly insignificant thing that meant the world to you. You jerked your head to the left, staring at Colston with wide eyes. He was dealing with the tickets for a few seconds before you pulled into a spot, then he finally looked to you.

"Cole, I cannot believe that you remembered."

Colston smiled, and on the inside he was celebrating that you loved it. What he hadn't expected though was you leaning over the console and hugging him. It was honestly the sweetest thing any guy had ever done for you, you were beyond grateful for this boy, and it was your first date.

"This is the sweetest thing a guy's ever done for me, I'm being serious."

Though you were mostly saying that about the fact that he'd remembered, the date itself was also amazing. Colston knew you enough to know that you'd have preferred this over any fancy restaurant, and that meant a lot.

"It's the least I could do, coach. You mean something to me, 'm gonna take care of you."

You just squirmed in your seat, getting more comfortable and smiling as you looked ahead of you. You wordlessly reached over and slipped your hand into his, pulling them into your lap.

Colston was so happy he could've gotten out of the car and started dancing. He acted as cool as he could on the outside. You two settled in as the movie began.

At some point, Colston had reached back into the backseat and grabbed a blanket that he tossed into your lap, and a bag of food and snacks.

You traced your free hand over Colston's tattoo, admiring the line work and shading. The movie ended, and Colston's hand stayed with you as you two began the drive back. You fell asleep on the drive, your head leaning against Colston's arm.

You woke up slowly about 5 minutes out from school. You kept your head on Colston's arm, but allowed yourself to carelessly stare at him in your tired state. At a stoplight, he turned to look at you, smiling deeply when his eyes met your sleepy ones.

"Hey, coach. Nap good?"

You smiled and nodded, yawning at him. He laughed lowly, turning his head back when the light went green. You parked outside your building, dampening your heart. The night had been perfect. You sleepily got out of Colston's car, after he told you to not dare opening your own door. He walked you up to the entrance with his hand on your back, rubbing his fingers back and forth lightly.

When you got to the door you stopped and turned around, wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Thank you so much Colston. This was like, the best date I think ever."

He smiled, hugging you tightly. Colston had the best time, obviously you were gorgeous, but getting to talk to you one-on-one without interruptions was his idea of a good time. His insides melted whenever you fell asleep, and before then, he could've swore he was in love while you traced over his tattoo.

You pulled away from him, looking at the boy through heavy eyes. He looked absolutely handsome in the dim lighting of a street lamp. You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning up and kissing him. You probably wouldn't have if your drowzy mind hadn't commanded you to. Obviously you wanted to, but you weren't sure if it was 100% mutual yet, but it was.

Colston's hands went to hold the back of your head, his hands in your hair. He kept the kiss shorter than you would've liked, knowing you were tired.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes, a smiling fighting its way onto you face. Colston's hands shifted from your hair to your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow baby."

Your blown out eyes widened at the name, your heart clenching in your chest. Colston saw the reaction, his lips quirking up the slightest bit.

"I'll see you, Loveland."

You let go of him, turning towards the door. You paused for a second, quickly turning back around and kissing Colston again. Colston's hands grabbed at your hips, pulling you closer. Colston smiled brightly into the kiss, giggling to himself.

You pulled away from him, a grin falling to your face.

"You ever gonna let me leave, coach?"

"Thinkin' about it."

"You get inside, gorgeous. It's too cold for you to be out here."

You smiled, nodding at him, letting go of him for the last time.

"You gotta go too, off season just started. You gotta stay on your A-Game Loveland."

He laughed at you, shaking his head as he watched you walk into the dorm complex, turning the corner and out of his sight. You ran back up the stairs and to your room, squealing like a 13 year old as you described your date to your roommate.

Colston sat in his car, texting his mom that everything went well. When he put his phone away, he finally let himself think that you were the girl he'd want to be with forever. It was finally real. The boy just had to be patient.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 26 days

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AITA for giving away my sisters fish?

This is a dumb and very long story (i could probably shorten it somehow but I don't know how) and I know the title makes me look bad.

Ok so, one evening my mom and my little sister(let's call her Jess) brought home a container of four fish that mum said she saw a guy selling on the road for about 2 dollars (I'm not american so I just calculated and it comes out to around 2 dollars)

This was during the end of year break when Jess was home (usually we all go to boarding school) None of us had ever had pet fish before and we didn't know what kind of fish they were, they looked different from each other and their size difference was pretty big too(the largest was about the size of three nail clippers stacked on top of each other and the smallest was about the size of 1/2 of a car key). So we weren't sure of the species of any and bought the most nondescript pack of fish food we could find, they ate it so we thought things were ok.

About 1 month into the break though (the end of year break where I am is 2 months), 1 of the fish died for reasons we still don't know (we changed the water every 3 days) and two weeks later a second one just disappeared, it wasn't in the bowl, and no one knew what happened. So by the time school started there were 2 fish left (Jess was sad but we also have dogs so she wasn't too sad)

All of us go to different boarding schools but ive been going to a day-school this past year because I'm scheduled for a surgery, so when everyone went back it was just me with the fish.

My elder sister (let's call her Kat) came home from university for a while and she thought the fish were cool so she asked my mom if she could tell her where she got them so she could get some for her dorm. My mom told her she just got them from some guy on the road who didn't have a stall and probably wouldn't be there if she drove to the place she found him. So she went back to uni without any fish

Flash forward, 4 weeks into the term, my mom comes to get me from school and she says was passing the area she saw the guy and he was there with another container of fish this time with about 10 fish also of various muddy and sandy colours, about length of the diameter of a soda-bottle cap (my mom said they also cost her about 2 dollars). I said we could split the fish in half, keep 6 and give Kat 6 for her dorm.

So I'm sitting in the car, holding the container of fish my laps and my mom suddenly stops the car because a person walking on the sidewalks falls into the trenches on the sides of the road. The person is ok but the car stops so suddenly and I'm not holding the container securely so it falls from my laps.

The container has a lid so the car is ok but the guy added some small rocks and a fake plant to the container so they kind of bury the some of fish and 6 of them die. I look on like an idiot while mom tries to settle the rocks but another fish is buried when the rocks are settled.

By the time we get home and transfer all the living fish into the bowl we already have, we have 5 fish in total. We move them to a new, slightly bigger bowl and feed them but by the next morning when I'm going to school i see 3 fish left.

When I get home, I tell my mom that maybe we aren't ready for fish and we should give them to Kat whose dorm may be less of a safety hazard (during the end of year break we used to play with the fish a lot, trying to touch their tails etc so we're definitely the reason the first batch died anyway. We're also 8 kids and there are kids older and younger than me so it would be hard to stop EVERYONE from being rough with the fish). I also had exams coming up and I was starting to put of changing the water and cleaning bowl until i saw algae growing on sides.

Kat has a roommate who thinks the fish are cool too so incase one of them forgets maintaining the fish the other can do it. (I also kind of secretly hoped the all fish would just die a week or two into being with them so it wouldn't bother them anymore I feel bad about it)

Anyway, 3 weeks later when Kat came home she took the fish with her. It's around the middle of the first term so it was Visitation Day at Jess's school yesterday (I think the name is self explanatory) and the first thing she asked about was the fish. I didn't know what to say so I told her the truth and she was so SAD!!(I mean obviously she'd be sad but visitation day is supposed to be a good day) because we named the fish and everything(the first batch, not the second) . I tried to tell her how Kat and her roommate were nice and would give the new fish good name but she said that was dumb I knew that was dumb and I wish had just lied about the whole thing and asked my mom to buy new fish but I feel like Jess would know so said nothing else

My mom kind of cheered her up by saying that during the holidays they could go get a good tank and actual goldfish from a better place but she was mad at me because I suggested that the fish be given to Kat and I feel like she's right because it would be stupid to ask Kat to bring the fish wish her the next time she came home.

All my other siblings not just Jess also got attached to the fish so I'll just be breaking the news to everyone for the next three weeks (because all schools where I am schedule visitation day in the same month) and just generally ruining the mood.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #pet death cw

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cat3ch1sm · 5 months

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🕸️~ yes yes ive been gone again and ignoring you guys blah blah blah im very sorry 😭😭😭 but i return momentarily to drop this fic based off another one of the lovely star’s atsv headcanons. here it is below:

🕸️~ go check out their tiktok acc!! she’s a lovely and talented writer and awesome person and i was so excited to publish this one :)) it is super long tho so just be aware loll 😭😭 there isn’t nearly enough Margo writing for my liking tbh n idc if she was only on screen for three minutes

enjoy!! also yes yes i do intend to get to all of your requests for a Christmas present.

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐛𝐲𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

It had been a short time since Miles’ escape from the Spider-Society, and things were in shambles. There had been countless objects, rooms, and technology destroyed during the massive chase, many of which would definitely take weeks, maybe months, to repair. There were constantly maintenance robots and machines, that had previously hardly ever made appearances, zipping around the headquarters doing their best to clean up the residue of the chaos.

However, it wasn’t just the building itself that was in disorder- dozens and dozens of Spider-People had resigned after the chase. Most left because they didn’t agree with Miguel’s way of dealing with Miles. Others had disagreements with other Spider-People, on both sides: those who chased Miles and those who didn’t. Many left simply because they didn’t want to deal with the chaos and how quickly the Society had been devolving since the event. Nothing was organized or stable; tensions were high. There was a painfully obvious shift in the atmosphere; something was brewing beneath the surface.

But even amidst the mayhem, Spider-Byte had remained calm. She had been one of the few at the Spider-Society who hadn’t participated in the chase, and she certainly didn’t regret it. Some had even praised her for her lack of involvement. She didn’t lose any relationships, and her technology, by far the most adept and efficient technology used in the Spider-Society, was still intact and operating. She was essentially in the eye of the hurricane, havoc raging around her, but she remained at peace.

So Margo was surprised when, as she was sitting in her workplace at headquarters updating a computer of hers, her watch went off. Startling her from her reverie, she sat up, seeing that it was a call from… Miguel?

Her eyes narrowed a little. That was unusual. Besides Jess Drew, the head of the Spider-Society rarely ever called anybody personally, and least of all any of the teenage Spider-People. Miguel was rather strict about maintaining professionalism, so he usually had LYLA appear as a hologram to whoever he wanted to contact with his message. But no, it was his contact on the small screen of the watch.

Margo, still frowning a little, picked up the call.

“Hello-“

“Spider-Byte. I want you in my office. Now.” And Miguel’s tiny hologram vanished.

“What-“ Margo was both stunned and slightly peeved. She hadn’t even gotten out a greeting. But she knew better than to go against Miguel’s orders. The man had always been intimidating and uptight, and very work-oriented, but these past few days he seemed more distant than ever. He was scarcely seen around headquarters anymore, as he spent much of his time searching for Miles, and on the rare occasions he did make an appearance, he was downright unapproachable- his face contorted into a deeper frown than ever and his eyes were lined with dark circles and bags. Some days it felt like he wasn’t all there.

Margo glanced over at the computer she’d been working on and stood up from her chair. Gradually her slight annoyance at being interrupted so rudely during her work began to dissipate; presently she began to feel a little apprehensive as her luminescent blue avatar maneuvered itself smoothly through the halls. Miguel had not sounded at all pleased on the call, which was rare- although Miguel was not exactly amicable most of the time anyway, she was one of the few people he would be patient with because she was such an asset to the Society.

She phased through walls and skillfully avoided obstacles, digitally extending the limbs of her avatar and swinging from the ceilings as she made her way to Miguel’s office, moving quickly. It wasn’t long before Margo brought herself to the ground in the dimly lit area where Miguel stayed- sure enough, there he was, on the platform above her standing in front of his arsenal of screens.

He didn’t say anything as the platform that was his workspace slowly lowered itself down to the ground, and Margo stood there and waited awkwardly for it to come down- this always took a painfully long time. As Miguel got closer, though, Margo could see Lyla’s small yellow hologram beside Miguel, hovering just above his shoulder with an uncharacteristically uneasy look on her face. Margo glanced at her, brow furrowing, but neither said anything.

Now Miguel finally reached the ground. He turned around to face the girl with a dark expression, and she didn’t even have time to feel alarmed before he started in on her. “Did you let Miles get away?”

The question sent a jolt through Margo’s body, and she immediately went on the defensive. “‘Did I let Miles get away?’ How would I even have done that? I wasn’t even involved in that whole chase,” she protested.

“And why is that, I wonder?” Miguel countered demandingly, taking a single step forward but prompting Margo to take several steps back. “Did I not tell all of the Spider-People to go after him?” His voice was a low, menacing tone, and his body looked stiff and tense, as if he was trying to contain himself.

Margo momentarily found herself at a loss, and she scrambled to come up with some sort of explanation. “I was already taking care of something else,” she countered. “You know how my Go-Home machine been… acting up lately.”

“Really?” It didn’t sound as much like a question than it did an accusation. “The same Go-Home machine that conveniently worked when Miles escaped from this dimension?!” With every word his volume increased and so did his anger, and Margo noticeably winced. But still she had to defend herself somehow.

“The machine activated itself. I- I don’t know what happened,” Margo retorted, throwing her arms in the air.

“I can vouch for that one,” Lyla interjected, disappearing from Miguel’s shoulder and reappearing in between Margo and Miguel, like she was trying to break up a fight. “She wasn’t the one that did that. The machine was pressing its own buttons and going all crazy. We both tried to stop it, but it’s obviously very difficult to stop that thing when it gets going.” Lyla didn’t sound too happy, and Margo didn’t know whether it was because of her or Miguel.

Miguel cast his eyes at Lyla in such a beseeching manner that she glitched over back to his side and said nothing else, her expression tight and tense with displeasure. He directed his glare back at Margo, who met it with almost equal intensity and defiance. Despite this, his tone was slightly calmer when he spoke again, but still anger bubbled beneath the surface.

“Alright. You insist on playing that card? Fine.” Miguel turned around, then again, a huffy sigh that was more of a groan leaving him as he paced, a clear indication of his agitation. “Do you remember, Margo, something that happened a few weeks ago?” Margo tilted her head in mild confusion and frowned, prompting Miguel to explain further. “Peter. Peter B., the numbskull who runs around with a pink bathrobe and a baby. He brought her to headquarters like he usually does. I don’t know how, but somehow it happened that Mayday got away from him. And one way or another, she wound up in that Go-Home machine.”

Margo’s expression became a little less puzzled and she nodded as she remembered the incident, but still she wasn’t sure what he was getting at. Nonetheless, she said nothing and let him continue.

“Yeah. Peter was an idiot to give her a web-shooter.” Miguel’s tone was scornful. “Before he could make it to Mayday, the machine started activating after scanning her DNA and determining what dimension to send her back to. It was more than halfway through the process, and the machine was moments away from throwing the baby full force into her home dimension, but you realized what was going on. Luckily, you raced over and were able to stop the machine right before it sent her away.” Miguel’s voice grew slightly lower, and again he advanced towards Margo. “Peter ran over, got the kid, and thanked you I don’t know how many times. That was when you explained to him that there was one function of the machine that could stop it quickly no matter what stage of the process it was in. You showed it to him and said to keep it in mind if anything like this happened again.”

This time, Margo didn’t even notice how close Miguel had gotten, his looming height towering over her. Her eyes were lowered to the ground, her expression gone flat. She knew exactly what Miguel was getting at now.

“That machine was just fine.”

The tension in the room was so thick one could have cut it with a knife. You could hear a pin drop in the icy silence.

Miguel continued on, his tone dry. “And I saw you. You probably didn’t think I did, since I was obviously occupied with the anomaly. But the good thing about being a Spider-Person is that your senses are enhanced. You’re aware of more than one thing at once. And I saw him look at you. I saw you meet his eyes.”

Margo had nothing to say. Her heart had dropped to the pit of her stomach. She felt her breath escape her the more he went on. She pressed her lips together and averted her eyes.

“I know you could have stopped him. But you didn’t.”

Margo was unmoving. Every muscle in her body was tense. She was found out. And she didn’t know yet what the consequences of that would be, but she figured she wouldn’t take them without a fight.

Her expression hardened, and she abruptly looked up. And honestly, it took a lot for her not to automatically look back down; Miguel’s countenance was so formidable. But she pressed on, and without thinking as much as she probably should have, Margo retorted:

“And what would you have done if I hadn’t let him go?!” Her own tone startled her, she was usually laidback and really didn’t argue with people; but that by no means meant that she couldn’t stand up for herself or her beliefs. Her eyes were wide with passion and frustration as she met Miguel’s glare.

“I would have contained the anomaly!” Miguel snapped. His tone wasn’t calm anymore.

“You would have hurt him,” Margo shot back.

“I gave Miles every last opportunity to come with me peacefully. I gave him the courtesy of carefully explaining to him what was going to happen to his father and why. Did anyone else get that privilege? Did you get that privilege?”

That last question abruptly sent a sharp pain through Margo’s chest somehow, despite her virtual form. Miguel noticed her grimace, and instantly jumped on it.

“No. No, you didn’t. Everybody else had to sit there and let that happen. That kid should be thankful. And yet he still decided to make things hard for himself. I had no choice.”

Somehow, Margo felt like she was pleading more than arguing at this point. “He was bleeding when he looked at me!”

Miguel’s face was eerily cold when she said that; not a hint of remorse could be seen on his face. “There are consequences to disobedience. Just like there are consequences to defying the canon.”

“That- that doesn’t even have anything to do with it!” She could feel her composure slipping away. “That’s exactly why I couldn’t let him go. If the canon is really so final, he’ll find that out for himself. He’ll either lose his dad or his whole dimension. Does that make you happy now?”

Miguel threw his arms in the air in exasperation and annoyance. “Fine. You let him go. That was the right thing to do according to you? Because you’re so worried about what I would do to him?” Something in his tone was terribly condescending. “Now he’ll go and save his dad, like he wanted to. That’s great, right? That’s what you want? Now a whole dimension is going to pay for his actions. Which is the opposite of what this entire Society was even formed for.” He turned around and leaned over onto his desk, dropping his head into his hands in frustration.

Margo looked at Miguel’s slumped form with stone defiance. “I couldn’t let you hurt him. I’m sorry.”

Miguel had stood back up. His face was less angry. But he looked cold and remote as he stared down at the girl. There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

Finally Miguel spoke again. His tone was more controlled, and he wasn’t yelling like he was before. He let out a sigh. “Give me your watch.”

Margo started. “What?”

Miguel didn’t repeat himself. He simply held out his hand.

Margo’s eyes widened, and she felt her heart start beating a mile a minute. “My- my watch-? But- what-“

Miguel held up a hand to stop her, blowing air from his lips in an exasperated sigh. “Relax. I’m- I’m not kicking you out. You’re too much of an asset.” His expression hardened. “And you’re lucky I’m not. It is in no way your place to argue with me the way you just did, especially about that.”

Margo dropped her head to allow herself a brief eye roll.

“But you are on probation. I’m locking your watch for a week.”

Margo knew she should probably be grateful that that was the only consequence she was getting, but nevertheless a bitter taste came into her mouth, and she frowned. “Locking?”

“You won’t be able to travel between dimensions or contact anybody from the Spider-Society besides me. Additionally, when your watch is locked, you’ll start glitching again.”

“Go home,” Miguel continued in a stern tone of voice. “When your probation is up, I’ll have Lyla unlock your watch for you.” Again he extended his hand, and not having any more energy to protest, Margo took the watch off her wrist with a ferocity she hadn’t intended, and placed it in Miguel’s open hand.

Miguel took the watch. “Lyla. You know what to do.”

Lyla, who had vanished during Margo and Miguel’s argument, reappeared in a flash of yellow at Miguel’s side. “Working on it… alright. The watch is locked.” She cast an apologetic look at Margo, but Margo averted her eyes.

Miguel loosely tossed the watch back to her, and Margo took it and slowly put it back on her wrist. Miguel gave her one last long, unreadable look, and turned around with another heavy sigh. He said nothing else, and Margo left feeling somewhat heavy.

She had just made it back to her work area when the glitching started. That was something she hadn’t dealt with in a while- she’d forgotten what the consequences of being in another dimension without the watch were, especially in her virtual form. As a result, the pain was fresher than ever, and when she fell to the ground she just stayed there for a moment, even after the glitching stopped.

“You always want to start some sort of argument with me!”

“Because you don’t listen…”

Margo rolled over in her bed and pulled the pillow down even more tightly over her ears. Without the watch’s functions she could no longer escape the constant, incessant fighting of her parents. God, she wished they’d just get a divorce already.

Home, sweet home.

It had been several hours since Miguel had made Margo go home, and she already knew this week would feel more like a century. Her head was already pounding because of the shouting of her mother and father. She had tried to play video games for a little while, but she quickly became bored, and then she’d tried to just go to sleep and look where that ended up.

Despite all this, Margo didn’t regret what she had done for Miles. Maybe she should have, because she did respect Miguel and she knew she had a duty to the Spider-Society. But all of that had vanished the second he made eye contact with her- his shiny eyes wide with desperation; he said nothing but she could hear him pleading. And the way Miguel had been almost animalistic when he was tearing at the containment field blocking him from Miles, eyes bloodshot and fangs bared. Even from the distance she was at, Margo could see the bruises on Miles’ skin, the blood running down, and the jagged tears in his suit undoubtedly made by Miguel’s talons. She knew she had done the right thing by letting him escape. It chilled her to think what would have happened if she hadn’t.

Margo must have fallen asleep at some point eventually because when she awoke, it was dark outside and she could no longer hear her parents screaming. She blinked back sleep and groggily surveyed her surroundings- her monitor was still running, her game idle, the low hum of all the devices and gadgets in the room droning on, and-

“Lyla!”

Margo sat up with a start, jolting with surprise. Before her, hovering at the foot of her bed, was Lyla’s little yellow hologram.

Lyla glanced up at Margo nonchalantly, like this was just something she did every day. She teleported in front of Margo’s face, and the girl backed away slightly. “Hey.”

Margo was half-asleep and still totally confused. “Lyla? But- what you- does Miguel know you-“

Lyla waved Margo off, blowing a strand of pixelated hair from her face. “Let me see your watch.”

Margo frowned. “Why? It’s useless.”

“Just give it to me.”

Blinking, Margo slipped the watch from her wrist and placed it before Lyla. She didn’t exactly know what Lyla was doing as the AI murmured to herself, teleporting several different times around the watch, but suddenly the formerly darkened device had lit up again, a chime sounding from it as its screen lit up.

Lyla nodded, more to herself than Margo. “Your watch is unlocked.”

“It’s- what?” Margo looked disbelievingly from Lyla to the glowing watch, then back at Lyla. Wordlessly she took it, fiddling with its functions; it was fully restored. Questioningly she glanced up at Lyla, who held up a hand before she could say anything.

“Obviously you can’t just show up at the Society or Miguel will notice you, so I’m not sure how useful this thing will be till your probation is up. But you’ll be able to contact other Spider-People, and travel to other dimensions again without glitching. Clearly you’ve been thinking about that Miles guy, so I guess you’ll be wanting to look for him.”

Margo laughed a little sheepishly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Oh, yeah- um. Miguel doesn’t know I came here, so it’d be great if you didn’t tell him I was here.” Lyla gave Margo a slightly mischievous smirk.

Margo nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You got it.”

“Great! See you around.” Lyla gave her a brief wave before vanishing.

Margo stared at the empty space Lyla had left for a moment with the ghost of a smile on her face. After her argument with Miguel and her punishment she hadn’t felt good at all about the whole situation with Miles, but now she was thinking that perhaps she wasn’t as alone as she had thought.

Her smile grew bigger as she sat up and took the watch, slapping it onto her wrist.

There was a job to do.

#gwen across the spiderverse #across the spider verse fanart #atsv fanfic #across the spiderverse #margo kess #spider byte #miguel o hara #atsv headcanons #atsv fics #atsv fanfiction #atsv writing #miles morales #angst #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman

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raines-cloud · 10 months

Text

Worried — Miguel O’hara x gn!reader

warnings/tags: sfw, injury, hospitals, mention of sexualization

a/n: miguel is so ajjsjsjdhjshd i love him

more under the cut!

miguel was never physically affectionate with anyone. you didn’t complain - imagining him touching you always led to impure thoughts, and that wasn’t exactly ideal, considering the fact that he was your boss.

but there was this one mission that you were assigned to. you had been fighting an anomaly - a doc ock - and he had landed a pretty solid hit on you, causing you to fall to the ground immediately. he was captured shortly after that by jess, and miguel rushed over to you. by the time he had gotten to your side, you were fading in and out of consciousness due to blood loss. the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. you were in extreme pain, and you screamed when miguel touched you. he pressed down on the gash on your stomach, cursing to himself. “stay with me.”

the next thing you knew, you were in the hospital. confused, you tried to sit up, but couldn’t due to monitors and ivs.

the doctor monitoring you (who was also a spiderman) noticed your movement. “ah, you’re finally awake. he was getting pretty worried,” he said, gesturing to miguel, who was pacing outside of the room. “you’re gonna be okay. no missions for a while, because you had to get stitches, but you’re fine other than that.” he took the ivs out and removed the monitors from your skin.

miguel sensed movement and looked up. seeing you move caused him to knock on the door, and the spider-doctor went to let him in. he had to duck under the doorframe due to his height. after he was safely in the room, he practically ran to your side and hugged you, his arms wrapped around your torso.

“i was so worried,” he whispered. “you’re not gonna be going on any dangerous missions for a long time.”

you patted his back slowly. “i’m okay, mr. o’hara. no need to worry about me.”

he shook his head. “call me miguel. and i worry about everyone, so hush.”

he let go of your torso, but still held your hand. you shifted in the bed, slightly uncomfortable.

“why are you squirming?”

you froze. “um… it’s hard to explain, and i don’t feel like it’s appropriate to share with my boss.”

“talk to me like i’m your friend, not your boss.”

“it’s not that easy,” you exhaled, “but whatever. i grew up being sexualized and had very little physical affection given to me when i was younger. so now, when people touch me in any way, i automatically assume that they want sex.”

he blinked, his expression shifting to one of sadness. “there’s more to life than sex, you know?”

“yeah, i know that, but it just feels like that’s all there is sometimes. it’s the only constant i’ve ever had.” you said as you messed with your blanket.

he shook his head. “you’re more than a sex object.”

your breath hitched. “please don’t say that.”

“why not?”

because the only people that are nice to me are people that want to fuck me. “just… don’t.”

he stared at you, but you averted your gaze. “just… drop it, please.”

he nodded. “okay. do you know when you’re going to be discharged?”

the spider-doctor, who was still there, coughed. “they’re free to go now. just no intense physical activity for the next few weeks, and make sure they’re drinking water.”

“thank you, doctor.” you said, moving to stand up, but you were stopped by miguel.

“no, stay still. i’ll carry you,” he offered. despite your protesting, he picked you up with ease.

“come on,” he whispered. “let’s get you home.”

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fluff #miguel o’hara fluff

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kylejsugarman · 1 month

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how does baby do during her first semester of college, when she’s just 17? how do jesse and demi adjust to having no kid at home?

oughhh ive always hesitated to talk about this specific transition because its so tough for all parties involved......like yay super close family unit formed :) oh god the linear nature of growth and change :( they try to plan it all out and prepare Really well for the moment where jesse and demi leave campus after moving her in and baby stays behind to start school so that it's a "clean break", but it lasts like. the road trip back home. before baby calls like (1 million bad feelings too big to express) "I Want To Come Home" and it's nearly impossible for both of them to not be like "yes ma'am right away" (gets right back into the car for the 12 hour drive) because they also want her to come home. its been just the three of them for so long that its so hard to suddenly split up and deal with that sudden change when part of the comfort of their family was that like. there didnt Have to be dramatic life changes anymore

demi has more experience with the transition to college life, so she's the one who helps baby deal with not having as Consistent of a routine and adjusting to living with a roommate when theyre both people who value having their own private space. baby misses structure and familiarity and doesnt leave her dorm room for anything other than class for almost the entire first semester because the newness of campus is too overwhelming and she doesnt have any solid points of contact. demi completely sympathizes and tries her best to consistently coax baby out of her dorm over the phone and advises her to consider joining a study group for her favorite class, which ends up being the jumping off point for baby actually meeting some people and leaving her room. jesse feels bad that he cant offer more concrete support and advice like demi, but his emotional support is crucial to her even surviving that scary first semester. he'll drop everything to talk on the phone with her no matter the time of day, giving her that safe and familiar base to return to, and its not uncommon for her to ask him to stay on the phone with her until she falls asleep, especially during those early weeks. he only ever posts mail under demi's name just out of paranoia, but he sends her lots of letters that are mostly just doodles and brief tangents and physical photos of the dogs, all of which end up hung on her walls to comfort her. she relies A Lot on them that first year and they're happy to help her: baby is a kid who Needs support and they provide it because they love her and want her to feel like she can pursue her dreams with room and cushioning to fail and fall.

as for jesse and demi being empty-nesters, it's just really Weird at first. they're obviously doing a lot of parenting from a distance and they initially talk about baby all the time out of their joint concern for her wellbeing, but it's odd not having her there. they were also kind of relying on a routine that's now gone. demi's depression resurges and she loses interest in all of her hobbies, letting her garden grow over. she just feels really lost and directionless: taking care of baby and being her guardian was demi's New purpose after losing the rest of her family. jesse backslides some, smoking All The Time since they dont have to worry about indoor smoke triggering baby's asthma and getting high with mason pretty frequently rather than just occasionally. he needs a distraction from the hole in his life, the huge amount of loss he'd incurred that had later been filled by demi and of course baby. that was his buddy :( his best friend. it's tough for both of them to confront and express these feelings, but they've gotten a little better at being Open over the years. sheila drags them out of the house as often as possible to hang out with her and her wife so theyre not just sitting around feeling sad. she basically instructs them to make more friends and strengthen their preexisting friendships (sheila knows best, after all) and just keep enjoying life. they're still young!! they're not even 40 yet!!!!! hanging out with other people definitely helps, but just having each other during that time is the most potent method of coping. not having baby there for the first time Ever in their relationship makes both jesse and demi realize how much they love one another and how closely their lives and hearts are now intertwined. its a really hard time for everyone involved, but by the time winter break rolls around, all three of them are definitely in a better place than where they started :)

#syd squeaks #anon do u have any idea how much this warmed my heart. answering this was the most fun ive had all week :')#it poured out of me i had so much fun writing this #jesse pinkman #demi ayuluk #baby ayuluk #mason ayuluk #sheila burton

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gotouda · 11 months

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jeremy on the ending:

“in one of the takes i climbed over the barrier. it always, to me, felt that there was no coming back from this. and i looked at these waves and it was so windy that day, and it was so cold, and there was this piece of metal. clanging. and it was this terrible sound. and.. i sort of couldnt bear it and i stood up, and walked slowly to the barrier and that was set up there and climbed over it.”

“ive been sitting with that poem [dream song 29] for a long time and theres something in the berryman poem- i sent jesse and mark a text after we filmed the scene:

‘There sat down, once, a thing on Henry's heart

só heavy, if he had a hundred years

& more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time

Henry could not make good.

Starts again always in Henry's ears

[the little cough somewhere, an odour,] a chime.’

And that chime, the clanging, came out of that poem. and then jesse wrote back immediately, and this is jesses mind, a passage from t.s. elliotts ‘the wasteland part 4’ which is called death by water. theres a line in it, that says “entering the whirlpool” and jesse wrote back to me [entering the whirlpool]. and thats what the end is to me.

“it is a completely tragic ending from my perspective. And the title, ‘with open eyes’, those eyes are not kendalls eyes. those eyes from the poem, are the eyes from this reproachful face in his mind that are staring back at him.”

“i cant answer who that face is, staring back at him ghastly, with open eyes. But its all of it.”

“i guess i felt that with everything in my body that there’s no coming back from this. I think that kendall has slowly mortgaged off everything, and has nothing left to live for.”

#bro..#succession

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molthethratrenerd · 20 days

Text

my gender

This is gonna be a long rant abt my gender so you do have to read it. I just need to say it.

Ok so ive been question my gender/sexuality for like 3-4 years now and i this was kinda it

Oh i'm a bi girl -> im pan girl -> lesbian -> pan she/they still a girl but queerer

Then like i was more worried about trying to figure out my sexuality right cause like i wanted to be kissed before my 16th (that didn't happen)

Then like maybe mid 2022 i started thinking about gender and i knew 2 trans people but i was kinda like no that can't be me flashforward to march 2023 i got in to will wood and i was like ‘no way i'm in anyway trans but if i could be him i would’ and i like said to myself that i just thought he was attractive?? Then the same thing happened with the character jesse st james from glee which was even weird because there was no way i would want to date him, so thats when she/they pronouns came in i put it in my bio. Then kids from my class found out and made fun of it so i changed em back to she/her.

Then since like september last year it feels like minimum weekly i’d either not be able to stop thinking abt gender or take way too many ‘what's my gender quizzes’

And like i feel its alway been in the day of my head, but its becoming more prevalent since then ive been like could i be non binary, genderfluid pintrest boards. At the beginning of the year i cut my hair again, which felt so good,.

So now somedays im having thoughts like ‘oh my fucking god why cant i drink something and be a guy’ ‘please for fucks sake’ though im nor sure id like to be a man im not 100% sure im a girl (im moving further from that). But like if there was like a magical thing i could drink do idk that would turn every inch into like robert smith between 1983-2004 id do it so quickly omg.

And like it kinda hurts that i'm not idk (and ive never felt this for any girl celebrities)

And i kinda think they are also there those thoughts but some days theyre less i thinks thats just cus im distracting myself though i dont know i could be fluid.

But i dont want to be any guy like the men in my family most of them are big i cant think of a better word then buffheads more so my dad but i could just not want to be like them i dont have a good relationship

I dont think i HATE being a girl- i don't love it i like some parts but i dont think its things exclusive to girls say cause gender norms n stuff.

I dont know if i have dysphoria because that fluctuates but im vision impaired so if i dont try and look at my body i forget some of it exists i really dont like my boobs or how clothes sit on my body think i like okay with having a cups (that i could easly hide if i wanted to i dont but that cause also be cause by the pain they cause me.

My waist i like but only because that's the part of my body thats skinnest like my body was less shapely but that skinny id be elated.

But especially o the days i think abt it more but also all the time i do wish for more masc features eg adams apple more angular face bigger hands etc etc.Voices of weird one because my voice is in mezzo soprano range my speaking voice however in chest voice is kinda low but I was self-conscious about it growing up because it made me stand out in different even though really it wasn't I think I just thought people were staring at me for no reason. I think I only like my voice when I'm singing when I'm acting because I can imagine myself playing characters who aren't me but idk but if it was lower like high baritone or tenor id be like so fucking happy.

And like i Kind of want to try dressing differently but I can't because a I don't want my family to know certain pieces of clothing would be mens Not that they have a problem with it I'm assuming they could though but they probably just want to talk about it and I would not but also like I remember one time I was at the shop called Factorie and I wanted to get the Black Parade t-shirt but it was a mens shirt and my god the amount of anxiety I had and the amount of people that I felt were staring at me I almost had a panic attack.

And like I feel like if I ever did do anything about gender irl I'd run away from everyone I know and cut of connections again not because I feel like they'd be bad about it but just I've built this thing around myself so long and I don't think I could even my queer friends like i dont know my parents I'd feel like I'd be letting them down, and like

But also so much for my childhood makes sense

Like when I was about 8 I got eczema for the first time and my first thought was ‘oh im turning into a boy… shit what am I gonna tell my parents’ which I don't even know why my brain made that jump but i hated my boobs sometimes more then others Once they got past a certain size, when I had a pixie cut and a couple people in the street would mistake me for a boy felt exposed ‘like shh don't tell’

But I was also such a girly todder/ child from like ages four Tube8 I would pride myself on being the girlest girl never wearing pants because I kind of think it was trying to win that competition but I don't know

I don't think anybody read this whole thing but if you did help me out or don't I don't care but I just needed to vent this

#gender questioning

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vivaladicamillo · 11 months

Note

I saw your posts asking for ideas and I was thinking what If you wrote something about you being Bams younger sister and filing cky coz April doesn’t want you to get hurt and you have like secret relationship with Dico or Ryan

DICO/MARGERA!READER

thank u so much for the suggestion!!! im gonna do it for dico this time bc one, theres no fanfics of this silly dude and two, i havent written abt dico in SOOOO long. this ones for the dico lovers out there love yall, a dying breed🫡

WARNINGS: dangerous stuff, fluff, bran being bran yk

———————————————————

being bams younger sister has its ups and downs

bam as a brother is A NIGHTMARE

hes just such a dick

making fun of u, annoying u and being the “younger brother” type character bc hes just like that

u were 2 years older than him

so when u started kinda liking his life long friend, “dico”

it was kinda awkward bc u yk, hes ur brothers best friend

one night, u were just chilling at the house alone

ape and phil went out, bam was probably out skating somewhere and jess had band practice so having a empty house all to urself?? hell yea!

as u sit on ur couch, just watching some stupid ass movie thats on someone knocks at ur door

when u answer it, its Brandon dicamillo himself (dico)

“hey, uh is bam around?” he asks looking kinda nervous

“nah, i thought he was put filming with u, but its 9:00 he should be back soon.”

“ah ok, ill just wait in my car till he gets here then, thanks.” he smiles at u

“come on bran dont be a stranger! i’m m just watching a movie just wait inside till he gets back.”

you held the door open for him and he walks in and plops down on ur couch

in your spot.

“asshole what the fuck thats my spot”

“didnt see ur name on it.” he says smirking “also what kinda horse shit are u watching? let me show u some real funny shit.”

dico then proceeds to put on an old western movie

“what the fuck dicamillo??”

“what??! this shit is so funny watch this.” he says pointing to the tv as some guy dressed as a cowboy gets shot on screen

the acting was terrible yes, but the way dico was hysterical laughing at it kinda made u smile

his laugh, his interests, just his goofy personality made ur heart flutter

u didn’t realize that u had been staring into this mans whole soul for ten mins until he turns to u and smiles

“may i help u?” he says kinda chuckling

“oh, uh sorry..” u say blushing and kinda turning away

the silence that took place after could have killed u right then and there

until he turns to u

“hey uh.. ive been actually meaning to talk to u about something…” he says, that nervousness kinda coming back from before

u nod ur head as he starts to confess to u

“listen, i know ur my best friends older sister and this is kinda weird but… ever since i met u, i thought u were so cool! i wouldnt have expected u to like masters of the universe and filming bits as much as do…”

“yea, i can see how u couldnt have seen that coming bc of my brothers”

“yea, but anyways, ive always kinda…been into u, im super sorry if this is weird i didnt mean to make it like that i just think..”

u smile, did fucking brandon dicamillo just confess his love for u ??

“bran..”

he turns to u

“i feel the same way, ive always had i just didnt wanna make things awkward if u didnt.” u smiled at him and scooted closer to him on the couch

“really?!?” he said in shock

“mhm, i like you… like A LOT”

u move in closer and you two end up making out on ur couch

after that day u both agreed to date without anyone knowing

yea it was suspicious when u two wouldnt be able to film or hang out at the same time on the same day but the guys kinda brushed it off

u two went of secret little dates

dico would surprise u ALL the time with cute date spots

random cat cafes, parks, family ran restaurants, he just found little cute places in westchester to take u to, and u LOVED IT

when bam realized u obviously were seeing someone bc u were WAYYY to happy, u decided to snoop

going through u room he ended up finding one of dicos shirts hidden under ur bed

thats when bam decides to confront u about it……

—————————————

might make some type of part two to this but it depends if yall want it or not, hope u enjoyed! also please keep sending in requests i love them sm !! yall are so creative i love it sm

#DICO NEEDS MORE LOVE!!!#made this for my bestie #love u bestie hope u enjoy #hes so silly i need to write for him more #SEND IN DICO REQUESTS PLEASEEEEE!!!!!#jackass #cky crew #cky x reader #brandon dicamillo #cky4 #cky2k #dico cky #cky3 #brandon dicamillo x reader #cky clip

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whump-town · 2 years

Text

Truth

I've been working on and off on this for like months but for some reason today I actually finished it. So here is post-route 66 stuff with Derek, jack, and hotch (jess too!!) 5k words

No pairings, Derek is just babysitting

It’s purely instinctual, all intuition not profiling as she might accuse it to be. He hasn’t asked her any carefully guided questions or watched for behavioral patterns – he just knows. He knows because he knows her as well as she knows him and she doesn’t need profiling to know him. Besides, profiling around a morphine brain is dangerous, laborious work. It clouds his mind with fears and assumptions. Everything looks like anger and disappointment, he learned a long time ago to hold his tongue in hospitals. He can’t really understand how people aren’t mad at him, at the blood that seeps through gauze or tight hot stitches holding his thin skin together. Logically, he knows they’re not mad at him but he meets their eyes and that logic fades into an immediate panic, into gut-rotting fear. And he can only sit with that rot for so long before his sad eyes drag up from where he’s staring passively at the overwashed blanket across his hips to whisper, “I’m sorry.”

Jessica withholds the sigh that attempts to slip so gracefully right between her lips. She’s exhausted even though she hasn’t really done a thing all day. She’s been here, curled up in his visitor’s chair, watching nurses come and go. His face is flush, his breathing agitated from laying here coming in and out of morphine dreams.

She squeezes his hand, “you’re alright, Aaron. You didn’t do anything wrong.” They’ve had this conversation already, three times. He’s being weaned off post-op drugs but they wash over him in tides that leave him either in the pits of dissociation or looking at her with this sad look. “I’m tired,” she bargains in place of a more complicated conversation. “And I know you are, just rest.”

He’s starting to get restless – makes an agitated sound in the back of his throat. He shifts his head around and looks from one half of the room to the other. He does this every few minutes as if searching the dark corners for some invasive but elusive threat. “You should –” his throat is still raw from intubation and he swallows painfully. He clears his throat unsuccessfully, “you should go home.”

Jessica hates the quiet sickness that holds him down, the weakness that comes from being torn open and sustaining only on what can be given to his body through IV. She looks away from him, his eyes have already started drifting as he fights a new wave of exhaustion. His hand is so cold on her own. Its size is large but thin, the skin discolored into a chilled purple and agitated to roughness. The IV sits in his right hand, a clear bandage holding it’s place firmly.

“I’ll go home when you go home.”

It takes three days. He’s in and out of consciousness, coming to on shuddering breaths. He’s tense and miserable in the hospital but nothing can be done. It’s the hospital, Jessica knows, but she can’t take him home alone. She needs someone stronger to help him upright. She could do it on her own, he will stand and fight his way upright, but she needs someone who he’ll let help him. Who is stronger than he is – and while she can best him in stubbornness, she’s not physically strong enough to manhandle him.

Derek steps into the room just after Jess could have really used his help. It’s not his fault, he’s strangely punctual if Aaron’s complaints hold up (but she does suspect he simply choses things to be annoyed with whether they are factual or just dramatized versions of the truth to fit his need).

Jess rolls her eyes as he greets her, her face hidden by her hair as she crouches by the bed and shoves the laces of Aaron’s sneakers down into his shoe. Fucking bastard walking in here after she’s done all the hard stuff, looking like a million dollars with his fashy white smile and muscles. Stupid hot men.

“I’m being discharged,” Hotch informs Derek, curt and to the point. An air of finality about him. Even as he sits here in grey sweat pants he’s owned for twenty years too many and feet dangling over the edge of the bed, the ease in which he slips into SSA Hotchner is transformative. He doesn’t need the clothes to be the agent, it’s this look. This pinched, inquisition that reeks of the impression of time constraint. Like even as he’s looking at you, paying attention to you, you are aware he’s not got all day. Say what you need and be on your way.

Derek smiles, easy and charming. “I know that.”

His eyes flick to Jessica, it’s a quick movement but that’s all Hotch needs. He’s being conspired against. Ganged up on. So much for respect. For fairness. Unjust, cruel. They’re so mean.

“Oh stop pouting,” Jessica reaches out and swats his shoulder, hardly a graze. He’s not. “Scoot to the edge of the bed so Derek can get you in this wheelchair and we can get the hell out of here.”

He’s not pouting.

_____________

Jack finds it slightly mesmerizing.

Sitting in the hallway, leaning into the shadow, Jack watches the small congregation gather tighter around his father. They’re like swarming bees – humming with a dangerous life force, a quick way to get hurt. He hugs his knees a little closer to his chest, tilts just a little so he can see them better but remains where they cannot see him. It must be a genetic thing, a Hotchner thing, to be able to hide away like this. If Hotch could turn it on he certainly would but his defenses are down, drowning in medications and the giant painfully yellow FALL RISK bracelet hugging his wrist. Jack can see it now as Hotch puts up a weak fight, feet dragging as he attempts and fails a sturdier step in the direction of his bedroom. He doesn’t want to sleep on the couch, he’s tired of being watched and being unguarded. He wants his room with his blankets and his black-out curtains. He’s vetoed easily.

Jack watches curiously. His father is so typically casual and in control, seeing him like this is peculiar.

Hotch whines, he certainly grumbles and pouts, as Derek moves his hands from suggestively guiding to moving. Hotch is exhausted, too tired, and too weak to fight Derek’s stronger arms pushing his hips to pivot. “Morgan,” he grumbles, attempting to outrank the other man, but he has such little say in this. His hand tightens on Derek, legs protesting so much movement and body now at a point that it’s calling quits. He needs to sit now or find a better residence napping on the floor. And with that realization, his eyes fill with tears. He just wants to sleep in his bed.

“Sorry,” Derek offers lamely, thinking the tears are from pain. He’s not wrong but he’s just not right either. “We’re almost there.”

Jack has seen his father cry. His aunts and uncles have a strange impression of his father, one he doesn’t really know how to identify. The sight of Hotch’s tears makes Derek uncomfortable and Jack wonders why. His father cries all the time. Chopping onions. Watching Pixar movies. Looking at Jack’s baby pictures. He’s kind of a crybaby. Jack feels bad when his father cries but he’s not made uncomfortable by the sight of his father crying. Derek is clearly uncomfortable. Willing to do anything to make the sudden downpour stop.

Derek guides him down on the couch, arms holding Hotch upright while Derek makes quick work of moving pillows where they’ll hold his sore body more tenderly. “You okay?” he asks, easing Hotch’s stiff shoulders down. He moves Hotch’s legs slowly, lifting them from the floor and pausing when Hotch cries out. His lips are pressed thin and tight but the sound burst out of him, above what he can control. The movement in his hips agitated the electric burn going on inside his head.

Jack flinches at the sound. His eyes widen, suddenly unable to tear his eyes away. This is the aspect of his father’s life he’s been so carefully shielded from. He knows his father has pains. There are summer days they spend in the A/C, his father sleeping for hours at a time and getting up only to make Jack food. He knows that’s pain. The stiffness in the way he walks. The arm he holds to his chest. He’s seen his father’s face covered in black and blue bruises. Watched him guard broken ribs. Nurse dislocated shoulders. But he’s been saved from the pain. Jack knows very little of his father’s pain and fears.

Derek turns, thinking he’ll find an instant reprieve from big, sad eyes, and finds Jack. “Hey, kid.” He stops a moment and pulls the couch’s throw blanket around Hotch’s shoulders. Thrown for a moment by Hotch’s closed eyes, the tears on his eyelashes, and his slow even breathing. He’s already asleep. Or at least trying to fake his way there.

Fuck.

Derek awkwardly smiles. He’s great with kids, he’s fucking fantastic with his nephews, but he wasn’t expecting mini-Hotch to be gloomily glaring from the shadows. “I think Garcia made your dad some chocolate pudding. You want some?”

Jack is all blonde hair and blue eyes, he looks like Haley, but he’s a Hotchner through and through. He shakes his head, resting his chin on his drawn-up knees, presses his grimacing lips into his knees. Haley had taken him to speech therapy when he was two. He could speak but he did so ill-frequently. It wasn’t that he couldn’t speak, he just hadn’t felt the need to. Even now, Jack says very little. Even when he’s happy.

“Are you sure?” Derek tries anyway. “There’s a can of whipped cream, I’ll let you eat it right out of the can and JJ brought strawberries. We could–”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Oh,” Derek frowns. Derek has had years of practice in this area – in fighting stubborn asses. Usually just with the bigger, meaner Hotchner but the mini version can’t be harder. “Is there a snack you’d like instead?” Jack shakes his head. “Anything, kid. You could have ice cream for dinner.”

Jack shrugs one little shoulder and looks away. “I’m not hungry,” he mumbles, “my stomach hurts.”

Oh. Derek nods, “my stomach has been hurting a lot too.” Big Hotchner would never be this easy to work with. “You know,” Derek offers, smiling, “I have the perfect remedy for that.”

Derek had a lot of stomach aches as a child. It’s really not the same reasoning but it’s the same idea. While Derek’s mother could not pinpoint a reason for her son’s anguish, Derek can identify Jack’s. He knows that pain. That uncertainty.

“Hot chocolate?” Jack asks, tone and facial expression matching his father’s. He’s unimpressed.

This scrutiny Derek knows how to deal with. He smirks at Jack, shaking his head. Poor kid is going to be just like his dad. “Yeah,” Derek smiles, “you don’t like hot chocolate?”

Of course, Jack likes hot chocolate. He wants hot chocolate but he doesn’t understand how it’s going to help him at all. He does like this undivided attention, the way Derek’s letting him sit up on the counter and talking to him like an adult. He likes the promise of hot chocolate. He’s just adamant and scared – everything is so scary lately. Jack watches Derek pull down two mugs and frowns.

“What?” Derek asks.

Jack shrugs and looks away.

Derek’s familiar with that look too. “Jack.”

Jack sighs, “well…” He looks down at his hands, anywhere but Derek. “What if–” he looks over at the couch. At his father. All he can see are his black socks hanging over the side of the couch, but he’s there. Like he always is.

“We can make him a mug,” Derek offers. He goes for another mug, even though he’s fairly certain Hotch won’t touch it. He hasn’t eaten anything in a while, not since he woke up in the hospital. “Your dad likes hot chocolate, I’m sure he’d like that a lot.” Derek hasn’t actually seen him drink any but who doesn’t like hot chocolate? Besides, if Jack makes it for him, Hotch will attempt something.

Jack nods and watches Derek go about searching cabinets for what he needs. Jack knows exactly where everything Derek needs is at but he offers no help. Derek’s stooped low, squatting to look underneath cabinets for the pot he would prefer to use to warm up the milk but he can't find any. Where does Hotch hide them?

“Is he gonna die?”

Derek smacks his head on the cabinet, the question throws him so much. He’s here for the drop-off. Jess had asked him to hang around for another ten minutes, watch Jack and Hotch so she could jump in the shower and wash the hospital off of her. She’d promised both would not be any trouble. Jack is withdrawn and sullen, Hotch not much different.

“No,” Derek answers automatically.

But his conviction is misplaced, Jack knows no is not the right answer. His brows turn down, his trust momentarily lost in Derek as he looks down at his lap. No isn’t the right answer and he knows it. Parents die. People just die. His father has no more control over that than Derek does. Hotch never promises to come home but he does promise to do his best. That’s all he can do. He can’t throw around that promise so boldly, not when Jack has already lost a parent. Not when he is already so aware that nothing is guaranteed.

Derek forgets that, sometimes. Jack is a child but Hotch doesn’t treat him like a little fool. “Not today,” Derek amends. “The doctors looked him over really well. You know your Aunt Jess wouldn’t let him out of there if she wasn’t sure he was taken care of.”

Jack scowls down at his pants for a few more seconds before nodding. That’s true. Jess is a little crazy, protective, but crazy. “Why did he get hurt?” Jack looks up and Derek’s surprised to find his eyes are clear, no tears dancing around the corners. He’s sad but inquisitive, really wants to know.

Derek isn’t sure how much Jack knows. Hotch has mentioned nightmares and therapy, Jack remembers something. He knows that the length between him and being an orphan were tight and near, hovering very dangerously right over his head.

“The bad man that hurt your mom–”

“George,” Jack offers, casual and matter-of-fact.

This kid fucking terrifies Derek. “Ye-Yeah,” Derek aggrees hesitantly. He hates George. Humanizing someone he’s hardly got the courage to breathe the name of. “He hurt your dad, a long time ago.” Jack nods, he knows this. A stabbing. He knows it factually but not very much else than that. Hasn’t acquired a deep enough sense of the world to understand just what it is that has happened. He just knows it was bad. Not to talk about it. But he’s not supposed to mention it to his dad, so Derek seems like a good person to ask.

“But that was a long time ago,” Jack says. Nearing five years ago, he can’t even remember those memories that well.

“It was,” Derek agrees. “But –” How does he explain internal bleeding to a nine-year-old? He understands how this happened. He’d been there in the hospital when Hotch woke up after Foyet. He’d walked Hotch into this apartment, home from the hospital, similar to how he did today. It made sense to him but how does he translate that? How does he take something so brutal and make it sensible? Digestible.

“They don’t know why it happened,” Derek says, which is true. There was no recent injury or signs of sickness. Nothing that Jess or any of them had witnessed but could they really trust Hotch to be forthright about something like this? “Sometimes… Uhm, one day you’ll understand better but for right now, it’s just that sometimes when we get hurt those old hurts just keep hurting. That’s what happened with Hotch– with your dad.”

Jack takes that well, he believes it. His father rarely shies from his never ending questions. He’d sat in the front seat once, not yet twelve and Hotch wasn’t eager for the reminder, because he was curious as to what exactly was happening for Hotch to be able to drive. It began as a simple show and tell, then Jack in the front, watching Hotch intently as Hotch slowly eased down the road. Then he was in Hotch’s lap, steering them back around, easing them into the driveway. But somethings he really wasn’t old enough for.

Hotch never shares details of work. At first, he dismissed it simply, factually. He couldn’t disclose information about still active cases but Jack knew that wasn’t entirely true. Aaron couldn’t but he did. He told Jessica. It takes outside factors, sleep deprivation, head trauma, something out of his control to get the secrets to come spilling out. Jack could hear them after he went to bed. Only the light of the lamp guiding them through the conversation, Hotch’s voice low and interupted by the sounds of gasps, as he worked himself up. So overwhelmed it all just came tumbling down. Turned him into a fit, a mess.

Jack understood this required of him a level of education he didn’t have and, more complex than that, required a level of vulnerability and emotional distress from his father he simply wasn’t old enough to bare.

So, maybe Derek was right. He understood older bodies hurt, his father’s did. Jack could not understand lingering wounds because he had nothing to linger, his father scars and pains older than him.

Derek’s just releaved he’s stopped asking questions.

“Here,” he hands Jack his mug, the first one from the bunch. Derek’s piled whipped cream on top, a big swirl that Jack attacks with a wide grin. The first time he’s smiled in days. “It’s my mom’s secret recipe,” Derek reveals. He looks over hsi shoulder, scanning around him before he leans in dramatically. “You can’t tell anyone,” he warns Jack, “but it’s cinnamon. Just a dash.”

He’s certain all mother’s do this and realizes a few moments too late maybe mother’s shouldn’t be brought into conversation. But Jack giggles, whipped cream on the tip of his nose as he leans in close and tells Derek gleefully and interrupted by more giggles, “mommy’s secret recipe for cookies is cinnamon but daddy never puts the right much.”

Jack is laughing hard, uncontrollable. He thinks it’s hilarious and the sight of him makes Derke join in the laughter. Wondering what sort of awful messes Hotch must make in here if he’s unable to add cinammon to a simple batch of cookies.

Derek puts him back down on the ground and Jack slides his mug back onto of the counter. “I can take it to daddy,” Jack offers, already pulling the mug towards it him. “I won’t wake him up.” He’s not waiting for Derek’s permission.

He’s careful. He’s a coffee master. Every morning Hotch lets him make his coffee. Jack does everything from fill the water to measuring out the creamer and suger. Every morning he makes the trip from the kitchen back to his father’s room. A coffee mug balanced carefully in his steady hands. Not a drop on the carpet and Hotch always makes an impressed face at the first sip. Congratualing Jack for another successful pot with a high-five or hug.

And the carpet remains hot coffee free.

It’s not coffee free. Jack might have mastered walking with a full cup of coffee but Hotch hasn’t.

Jack sits the mug down gently, soft to make the clink of the ceramic on the the hardwood a dull sound. But Aaron’s eyes are already open.

“What’d you bring me?” Hotch asks. He’s just whispering this time, purposefully. Jack only visited him in the hospital once. Then his voice couldn’t raise above a rasp, he could barely speak. Jess didn’t offer to take him again and Jack never asked. Instead, he’s spent the last few days with Dave. He goes there on some weekends, spends a Saturday or Friday night cozied up to the living room fireplace and listening to Dave’s records. He loves it and he loved it this time but it wasn’t the same.

Jack had heard Dave talking to Emily over the phone, pacing his office like he does when Jack is supposed to leave alone him so he can get some writing done. Ripped, is what he hears first. Dave’s voice has changed, he’s angry but his voice is sad. He’s defeated, so consumed by what’s happened. From hip-to-hip. Gutted the poor kid. Jack doesn’t understand who he’s talking about at first. Kid throws him off. He can’t imagine how his father could be young to Dave.

But then Dave laughs and he agrees with whatever Emily’s said. “A big kid, then,” Dave amends, shaking his head. “He’ll always be a kid to me. Like Reid. Known ‘em since they were in diapers.” Jack doesn’t think that’s true but he can never be certain. Dave explains what’s happening to Emily, how they’re dealing with everything. They always keep her updated. Jack does too. She calls at least once a week and he tells her about everything – Hotch’s latest mishap (poor baking skills, poor plumbing skills, etc.), the school drama of who is dating who, and how his grades are.

But Dave assures her everything is fine. And Jack wishes he’d lie as he promises her she doesn’t need to come home. Hotch is fine, sleeping it off in the hospital. Jack is staying with him, at Dave’s, until Hotch and Jess are ready for him at home again.

Emily leaves the conversation a little relieved and Jack leaves with that description.

Ripped, hip-to hip. That’s what Dave said and it’s what Hotch felt. It feels as though his protection has been ripped down, as if his shirt suddenly came open and his chest is exposed. His stomach aches furiously and his body begs for cover, to find somewhere safe and wait for his attacked feeling to abate.

The hot chocolate is a great start. He can’t actually drink. His clear diet restriction might have been lifted and his doctor hopeful with his ability to keep down an Ensure. Hot chocolate, and all it’s milk, would be far too much on his stomach. But it’s warmth is confusing to his brain. It’s comfort immiedte despite how heavily his anxiety fixated on terror, on finding the threat he was certian was hiding just behind the curtains or maybe in the bathroom. To hurt him.

Or maybe to hurt Jack.

Hotch balances the mug to his thigh, uses one hand to keep it there. Jack moves closer, before Hotch can move his other hand out to reach for him. Hotch closes his eyes, exhausted but now relieved to feel Jack’s little hand trying to hold his back. Jack comes closer until Hotch can wrap his entire arm around Jack’s hips. He crouches down, kneels on the floor, and lays his head on Hotch’s chest.

“You can lay on the couch with me.”

Jack shakes his head, he knows that’s not true. Hip-to-hip. Jack had traced his own stomach in the mirror. Dave had huge, giant mirrors and fancy showers. And by the end of his, Jack stood and looked in that mirror. He put his finger on one hip and drew down below under his belly button across the soft flesh to his other hip. Traced, as he imagined his finger a scalpel slicing through the skin, exactly where he thought they cut his father open.

That’s a long way and his body is so small.

Jess pulls Jack away after a while. He’s been sitting so still he can’t feel his legs and the entire side of his face is warm from laying on Hotch’s chest. But Hotch is knocked out. Jess takes his mug and holds his arm up so Jack can slip out and he barely moves. His eyes open for just a moment but close quickly, Hotch exhaling softly as he falls back asleep.

“He needed that,” Jessica tells Jack softly, smiling at him. She kisses the top of his head and guides him away from the living room. No more disturbing the sleeping man now the unofficial rule of the house. Jack is familiar with the protocol.

Jack sits down at the table and Jessica sits across from him. Derek waves from the door and they wave back, all the goodbye they’re willing to chance with Hotch sleeping. But once the door shuts Jack knows he can ask his questions. This is what they do. Hotch or Jessica always makes sure he understands what’s happening but as he’s gotten older they do less telling and he does more asking.

“How soon will he be okay?”

Jessica hums, considering her answer. “Give or take,” she says, shrugging, “he’ll be back to work in four days. For us, I think we just gotta be extra careful with him for this week and then he’ll get there.”

“Can I help?” He’s allowed to help in small ways. Never sees any of the bad stuff but he’s quick with the water refills and keeping a bountiful snack supply.

“Of course. But his stomach is sore, so he can’t eat normal foods right now.”

Jack nods, that might be a challenge. “I can make him oatmeal?”

“Yes but no sugars or cinnamon.” Jack just puts too much of both in, she’s doing Aaron a favor. He’s already going to struggle to eat, no reason it needs to be overly sweetened as well. “And he can juice but not orange juice.”

“Okay.”

“Any more questions?”

“No.” Jack thinks he understands. He has more questions, what ifs that filled his mind but none that he should speak. He’s often wondered who his father would chose, if he had been the option. Jack had seen on TV that mad men will hold guns to people’s head, make them chose. One person lives and the other dies but if you don’t pick then both die. And while that question comes and goes, it’s stuck on his mind. Who would his father chose, him or Haley?

Jack could never make reason of it, never actually decide. Hotch had said once that love is just different for people. He’d tried to explain it. Why he loved Dave, why he loved Emily, why he loved Jess, or Jack. But it was all different. Which Jack understood with some explanation. Love didn’t feel the same with his father as it did with Jess. He didn’t love one more or less but it was simply different. Felt different. Acted different.

And Hotch had said that Jack was a whole different love for him. Unconditional is the word he used but Jack wasn’t so sure about that. Surely there’d be something. He’d had to think hard. Not drugs – Sean does all kinds of those and Hotch still sends him birthday cards with money and evites him on the holidays. Jack couldn’t dare ask about murder – he didn’t know what the answer would be but it’d be difficult, he’d upset Hotch. But as he failed to come up with a proper example, Hotch had just shook his head and ended the conversion. Nothing, he repeated, I’ll always love you.

The thought keeps him up all night. It upsets him to consider either. The idea of his father having to chose makes him cry, ugly and silly over something he’s made up entirely. He knows Hotch holds guilt for not being able to save Haley. He apologizes every holiday, brithday, and every small event that Jack only has Hotch and not his mother.

But the reality is that Jack doesn’t remember Haley. Little glimpses. Good and bad. The bad he’d never speak of. No need to remind his father of their divorce, the messy stuff. But he’s always had Hotch. Jack wouldn’t prefer Haley to his father. If he had to chose, if it were Jack that had to decide, he knows which parent he would save.

And he hates that.

He doesn’t knock as he slides into his father’s bedroom. The door is already open, the bathroom light left on purposefully. Jack tries to slip up into the bed but Hotch is already awake.

“You’ve been crying,” Hotch whispers, reaching a cold hand out from under his blankets and to brush the remnants of a tear away. “Are you okay?”

Jack nods, pulling the heavy comforter around him, and sinking down into the bed under the warmth settles over him. His father’s bed is just better. Softer, warmer. “I’m okay,” he says, turned over on his side, watching Hotch. “Why were you crying?”

Hotch smiles. He’d lied for years to Jack about it but as he gets older that’s not really an options. Jack knows why his father is up pacing the halls at two in the morning. Why he’s up “sick” in the bathroom. “Bad dreams,” Hotch answers, honestly. Bad dreams sounds better than nightmares. “Why are you up?”

Jack shrugs, “can’t sleep.”

“Mmm.”

Jack thought being here would fix it but now he’s just laying here thinking about it. He can’t imagine, doesn’t want to, what it’d be like to not have his father. Jack tells him everything. Hotch taught him to ride a bike and how to read. It’s Hotch’s inability to do math that keeps Jack from excelling at math but he’s a straight A student in English. What would happen without Hotch? No National Geographic movies on Saturday nights, after Hotch has already announced twice they’ll got to bed in five minutes. Opting instead to sleep uncomfortably on the couch so they don’t have to go to bed.

Hotch always says how much Jack would love Haley, he tells Jess too. Jack believes him, he does love his mother. But Hotch always forgets that he’s there too. He’s still in the equation.

Hotch puts his hand on Jack’s chest, rubbing up and down like he used to when Jack was a baby.

“Get some sleep, buddy.”

Jack is asleep before Hotch’s arm starts to hurt.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #david rossi #emily prentiss

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truc0nfessionz · 3 months

Text

today i feel really sick and sad.

a lot of it is work. if im being honest, im tired. 5 years of constant changes and sprinting in new directions has fucking worn on me. 5 years of new bosses, new products, new leadership and the same disorganized CEO - it gets exhausting after a while.

it’s hard to be the one who champions every change, the one who always produces something from nothing. it’s hard to keep putting in “my all”, all of which gets thrown away when we see the next shiny object to chase. i get it, it must be hard to be ultimately responsible for the fate of the business and i really do have empathy for that.

but it is really hard to keep sprinting alongside it all. at some points, your legs give out and you’re just getting dragged. i try to be grateful there’s a company still here to drag me at all after all the questionable leadership we’ve seen.

i feel like i’m in jess’ crosshairs right now. she’s pissed that the CS numbers look bad, somehow conveniently forgetting that they forced me to go to absolute minimum viable staffing. now she’s focused on the hoops i can jump through to fix it. meanwhile, the answer is i just need more people.

and honestly, i get tired of jumping. i get tired of telling the same stories. i am so grateful to have this income, but the way it wears on my soul is starting to get old.

i hope it’s a phase. i hope we recover. i hope the metrics improve enough for her to focus her energy somewhere else and leave my team in peace. but if not, i guess we’ll see what happens. i guess we’ll see how much energy i can give and what happens when i finally can give no more. cause damn, i am so tired.

also, i’m still deeply hurt about my 30th birthday and the fact that my best friend and my parents didn’t really show up for me. i didn’t get a birthday card, a flower, a balloon, nothing. neither party tried to call me on my day. it’s like it was nothing to them. and considering I’M the person who shows up for them in every way - i go to great lengths to always make sure they feel special, loved, appreciated - it’s so fucking hurtful to me that they couldn’t even give me 10% of what i give them.

and it hurts a lot specifically from K. i’ve always said she’s the one who knows my heart. she would know that i literally don’t need expensive gifts or an equal contribution - i just want to be acknowledged in SOME WAY that shows you thought about me before this physical moment when i’m standing here. why would i have to explain that to someone who has claimed to know me and be my best friend for YEARS?

honestly, i don’t know how to get over this. i can see how to many it wouldn’t be a big deal, but to me it’s very personal. it’s the biggest milestone birthday ive had in a decade…. and you did nothing at all.

it’s actually enough for me to wonder if i’m going to continue the friendship at all. why would i show up for anyone who doesn’t show up for me?

and to add insult to injury - the fucking expensive ass gift i got her for christmas (that she ASKED FOR) isn’t the right thing in the end and she wasn’t even going to TELL ME during the period where i could actually get my money back. she would have let it sit there and let me waste my money entirely instead of just be honest with me.

how on earth is this someone who cares about me? the math doesn’t math on that at all. it just doesn’t.

so if i have to let this go overall, i have to. and it would hurt like hell for a long time. it fucking hurts right now. but as a 30 year old woman, i can’t show up for people who don’t show up for me. i won’t.

just because you’ve been a part of my life in the past doesn’t mean i can take you into the future. but i will let it go with love. i will wish nothing but the best for those who don’t move on with me. but i will hold the love for myself most dear - because at the end of the day: i can’t love anyone who doesn’t love me the same way.

so yeah i’m really fucking tired right now. just exhausted with work and with life. and honestly, if my best friend and i break up i might be exhausted for a long, long time. but i’m gonna push on. i’m gonna do what i can do. and no matter what, im gonna live a great life. with or without those who didn’t show up for me.

#1.25.24

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feralrodent · 5 months

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hey yall it’s been a minuet. i remembered i have this account which is wild to me and i think it’s time i let her go. im graduating college soon and am off to bigger things which is incredibly exciting, however, i dont want that to overshadow what this account once was. im still debating as to whether or not i should delete it. part of me wants to keep it up to memorialize my youth snd reflect back onto who i once was. the other part of me wants to delete it and keep this as a memory for both you and i to have. that’s more of a ME thing to determine, regardless i digress. ive been inactive for a very long time and it should come as no shock that im permanently leaving, however it felt wrong not to give this page one final goodbye.

This account has grown with me over the years, quite literally since middle school. ranging from my beatles phase, to fall out boy, to stranger things, and then the 2020 pandemic and everything in between. this account has been with me in every single phase of my life and has been a space for me to be unapologetically myself. i have made some of the best friends on here and some of the most insane memories. if you told my middle school self several years ago i would be in my senior year of college, writing this in their apartment in their bed, she would be in awe. life for me did not end at 13, it didnt end at 17, and it certainly won't now i sit here at 21. it's crazy to think that this account has been such a significant part of my growth and development as a person. being on this site for so long has taught me so much about friendships, love, and that there are always people who will love and support you. for me, though, i finally have thatlove and support beyond the screen, which is something 13 year old me has always wanted.

I leave this site with a new chapter, a new spirit, and most importantly, new lessons that I have learned both online and offline. I forever love every single person who I have encountered over these years, you will forever be my second family and a home that i have come to know and love.

thank you.

with more love than i ever could have known,

jess

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theloniousbach · 7 months

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COUCH TOUR: THE MATT WILSON QUARTET (Kirk Knuffke, Jeff Lederer, and Chris Lightcap) with Anat Cohen sitting in, SMALL’S JAZZ CLUB, 19 SEPTEMBER 2023, 9 pm set

Since this is a working band, I have listed them as such rather than leader plus side players. A piano-less quartet, the inclination is to think of Ornette Coleman and yet that didn’t quite fit in the moment. The voicings were similar but they were just more comfortable with what they were doing. Undoubtedly we as listeners have the benefit of listening to Ornette and they stand on those mighty and broad shoulders. The horns also did this wonderful thing of passing solos around in chunks of a chorus or half a chorus and, equally, the heads were loose.

In real time, they brought out Anat Cohen who was both very much her exuberant self and right at home in a much freer context than I’ve seen her. Then, I read a review of their album “Hug” which used “ebullient” to describe the music. Right. Comfortable, having fun, cracking one another up. Ornette used found elements to evoke a long history, but his profound vulnerability is always prominent. They mashed up a satire of Trump’s Space Force with a march for that sixth branch of the US Military with Sun Ra’s “Interplanetary Music” which is whimsical. But I have never figured out the line in Herman Blount’s music between the joke and the madness.

I’m also in the middle of a four part Ethan Iverson/Transitional Technology essay on Charles Ives, so I’m reminded to look for those elements too. But being able to see them enjoy what might otherwise be daunting is infectious. And to see them throw some of those found elements into those fragmented solos in conversation to amuse and challenge one another is special. One sustained found element is the oddly pop-py “Sunny and Share” (a reviewer compared it to Herb Alpert) which works whereever in the cheek their tongue was at any particular moment.

They also did Abdullah Ibrahim’s “Jabulani” which was a rhythmically jerky anthem and had South Africa in it. Then I thought “Space Force March” had more than a little Eastern Europe in it and those rhythms made it a funny march.

I have seen MATT WILSON on streamed gigs, but this is the first time as a leader. Jeff Lederer and Chris Lightcap are new to me. They served this music well but is Wilson as a leader like Mingus or Zappa or even Ellington where musicians are strategically deployed by the leader to serve their vision, however much said vision is shaped by the genius leader? Kirk Knuffke, however, has been on my radar as an early member of Allison Miller’s Boom Tic Boom and on a duet album playing Mingus music with Jesse Stacken. So it was good to see him in a related context.

But throwing Anat Cohen in was a special treat.

#concert review #jazz #couch tour #small’s live #small’s jazz club #2023

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blissfullybloomed · 8 months

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Transition

What a week. Has it only been a week? It's been a week since Ive moved from Wisconsin to Ohio, and it's been one of the best weeks of my life. It's like, I won the boss fight on Dark Souls…these bosses are NOT easy. No, it's more than that…I'm at peace.

I have spent a year working on myself. A lifetime battle of mine dwindled down to a year of consistent and hard work.The work that makes you see ALL parts of yourself- the good and the bad. The really good and the really bad too. A year of figuring out what my boundaries were, and actually sticking to them. A year reconnecting with people that I never thought I could, and finding out they are beautiful people too. A year of getting rid of anything toxic to my growth, and realizing the blunt reality of things. A year of learning how to accept things I can not change, and understanding that I am enough as I already am. A year of crying, kicking, screaming, isolating, and fighting…when all I had to do was to accept people, places, and things for who and what they currently are, and understand that it's okay if they don't line up with me. Do I believe people can change? Absolutely…BUT….they have to want it for themselves first and foremost. If a specific person is reading this…thank you for that lesson. I never knew how that would be a catalyst into the best part of my life. There was a person in my life that wasn't scared to be blunt and honest with me during our friendship. I wasn't ready to hear or accept it. I heard you and got to work. So, thank you. I'm so sorry for all the chaos I drug you through.

During this week, I have learned things about my family I never knew. I've got to sit in the back of my own car, and have my sister in law drive me to her house …because I live there now- not because it's the closest to Columbus Airport. I got to watch a movie with my family. Not just any movie…my favorite movie. I got to drive to my new job, Hospice Massage Therapist/Activity Director, and that's a 2 minute drive. I got to be greeted by people I haven't met, and they STILL said I have this light that shines bright, and they are so excited to have me on the team. I got to do a yoga pose with my papaw. I got to have a conversation with my mother that was 10 years overdue. I have been exposed to the show Big Brother…and I still don't get it LOL! But I get to spend time with Zachary figuring it out. I got to listen to new music with my aunt.I got to learn that my uncle is still working 48 hours a day. My sister Jess was even there in spirit. I felt her when all 11 of us were sitting on the porch…she was there. She was there clapping her hands, she was there when we lifted the lanterns too. She’s always here. We miss you Jess. I could go on and on and on…. I'm so glad to be home. It really is the little things in life that mean so much, and I'm sorry it took me so long to figure that out.

I think the crying will eventually stop. Crying from being so damn happy when the things I've envisioned happening for years…have finally happened. Moving back to Ohio was the best decision I've made in a very long time. Chunk and Chee are happier too. They have new sights, sniffs, and sounds to explore. My cats saved me too. I wish they knew how much. I think they do. Animals are incredible creatures.

So, here's to this week- I start my new career. I'm a hospice massage therapist. I have 14 patients, and 148 residents to watch over with an incredible team. I can't tell you readers enough how incredibly lucky I am to have found this career. This career found me. Jess showed it to me actually. She grew up with nurses and aides in our home her entire life…she had a hospice massage therapist. This was before I even knew a hospice massage therapist was a thing. Thank you sister, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You taught me how to love again, how to put others before myself, how to give without expecting something back, how to treasure all the precious moments life has to offer someone, how to keep moving even when I can't move, and how to trust the right people. My sister is with me during every client I have…and will continue to be the reason I do what I do everyday moving forward. I love you past the end of the earth. Thank you. Thank you a million times. I love you.

Ohio. Here we go, my old friend. “My emotions need to be as educated as my intellect. It's important to know how to feel, how to respond, and how to let life in so it can touch you.”- Victoria Bloom.

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27-royal-teas · 11 months

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Ok i know that probably like, none of you listen to arrows in action but they just released their debut LP today so i decided to ramble about them a bit because they deserve it and if no ones gonna create fan content for them i will.

First of all theyre a florida formed pop punk band (in my opinion, it floats more to alternative/pop) and now apparently they are located in tennessee. There are four guys- victor viramontes, the singer, jesse frimmel, the drummer, and matthew fowler, the guitarist.

Im gonna talk about the song that got me into them. It’s called All The Ways I Could Die. during science class i mostly just listen to music because my teacher never gives us any useful information and that was the song that came up in my queue. obviously you dont care about this information but i feel as though it needed to be shared. Anyway, the song’s chorus goes like ‘i just can’t wait to go sit in my room/contemplate all the ways i could die/ self sabotage is an old friend of mine/ and self care just inst worth the time’.

Pretty depressing, right? But the whole thing is that music, it’s a form of connection, and the thing about arrows in action songs is that they feel so personal. Like, they feel like something you can shout in the rain and out the back of a car, scream at the top of your lungs and feel every word, spin-in-the-summer, fall in the grass. Also, im not sure who’s the songwriter (80% sure that it’s victor) (it is, i just checked) but the lyrics are REALLY FUCKING GOOD. like, maybe not pete wentz good, but nobody’s pete wentz, and they are REALLY GOOD for their first LP. since i started listening to them, I havent found a single song i dislike. Like, they really are so good.

AND!!! I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THEIR HOOKS!!! One thing thats very consistent in their music is the sound and also the hooks. Theyve got this clear, clean sound, and im honestly very surprised that they havent been signed to a label by now since they have such consistently good music (and since they’ve been making music since 2017). And every single hook is good. listen to ‘Entropy’ off the new album. It is CRUNCHY. It is CLEAN. Its what i call tasty, like running your tongue on the flat metal of a refrigerated kitchen knife (not that id ever do that, of course). Like, it feels sharp and cold but slightly jagged. i could talk about it for hours. Also the high note in Put You Through Me literally makes me ascend.

Also, audience engagement. If you look through the comment sections of their music videos, most of the comments have been liked by the band. Ive sent them art i did for The Credits and Head In The Clouds and Checking in and they’ve replied. They communicate with their audience which really does hammer in the connection aspect- connection with the audience, connection with their art, connection with the music. also theyre just really nice dudes in general like. yeah theyre just cool

Another thing i think is kind of interesting is that their producer is dan swank! I fucking love dan swank! he worked with all time low (one of my favorites) for a really long time, and ive seen him on some of their acoustic music videos from 2021 (hes the guy playing piano and doing backup vocals with alex). Hes good!!! I didnt realize that he produced music, so this was a really cool thing to find out. Worlds collide

So, yeah. Arrows in action, man. They’re great, and you should check them out. They’re like all time low but toned down, but it wouldn’t work to compare them to another band because they’re this new, beautiful thing, and they are so good, and i am going to stop talking about them now. Anyway yes go listen immediately and STREAM BUILT TO LAST

#arrows in action #aia #victor viramontes #Jesse frimmel #Matthew fowler #dan swank #toby speaks (<- rambles)#NOT counting this as a meta this is all propaganda. listen to them #oh no. folks I feel another obsession coming on

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jessikahathaway · 3 years

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-Masterlist-

Hello~

Welcome to the blog!

*Thank you to @badgalsgetinfree (Sevń) for the blog banners and updated graphics! I appreciate it so much dear!*

I'm Jess, and I'm glad to see you've stopped by! I've been a member of ARMY since 2014 and I am YoonKook bias with a 95 line bias wrecker but tbh, OT7 is the ultimate bias-wrecker...

I do cross post on AO3, the name is DreamingCompanion.

Here is a collection of all of my stories.

Be aware I have been writing on this page for a while, so you might notice some of these stories are rather old and tbh-kinda cringy.

*NEW*

I have updated the masterlist and removed a lot of my older works. Now, these works are still on the blog and you can find them if you so choose. I am removing them from the masterlist because they no longer accurately represent me as a writer but they do show my growth so I will keep them there for those who have enjoyed them.

So please sit back and relax, enjoy the ride.

Please refrain from asking about updates. I write for fun, I want to keep it that way. Please be respectful/considerate when asking me (or any content creator) about updates.

-TAGLISTS HAVE BEEN DISCONTINUED-

I'm very sorry to those who were on taglists for this inconvenience.

Minors-you are not welcome to interact with this blog/nor are you welcome to read/interact with my content. If I find that you are a minor following this page I will block you.

I am not responsible for your lack of discretion; I am not responsible for you breaking the rules I have set.

~ Networks ~

I am a member of writer networks here on tumblr - this is my list

Bangtan Sorciere

BangtanWritersHQ

Whaliennet

M - Mature Content

A - Angst

F - Fluff

- MEMBERS -

-Oneshots-

Cold Chinese - M, F

Part I Part II - COMPLETED

Jin was terribly in love with his boyfriend, Jungkook. But he also had some fantasies to live out. Through you. His female best friend. (Polyamorous!AU)

-Oneshots-

Cornfields - M, F

He was an alien. You were a girl. Can I make it any more obvious? Probably. It's the one where Yoongi's a cold alien that needs love too.

Cosmos - M, F, A (Sequel to Cornfields)

Yoongi and you had been travelling together for a long time. You’d begun the terrifying journey of becoming parents. When a new person arrives in a way you didn’t expect, you and Yoongi’s relationship is sent into a tailspin.

Cannabis Connoisseur - M, Slight F

Yoongi is the local “cannabis connoisseur.” Every college student who smokes started with a Mr. Min Yoongi. Not only is he the image of slick and cool, giving even the male sports stars a run for their money in the looks department. Insert, you, a study bug who currently is having insanely bad bouts of insomnia. Lucky for you, Yoongi has something for that.

-Series-

Crimson Grail - M, F, A

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI - ONGOING

There were tales of the famed pirate Min Yoongi, Captain of the Crimson Grail. However, one meeting with him is hardly ever enough... One taste of adventure, and you were addicted. (Pirate!AU - HIATUS)

Coming Soon...

-Oneshots-

Uncontrolled - M, Baby A

As a half breed, being a werewolf wasn't ever your identity. Until a certain aspect makes itself known... (Werewolf!AU)

Roomie - M, F

After a disappointing slew of failed sexual escapades, you find yourself willing to do some crazy things.

Falling for your roommate not included.

-Series-

Ambrosia - M, F, A

Prologue

Cast out of Olympus with the task to find his one true love, Aphrodite is certain his match will come to him. But as the years drag on, what happens when the God of Love, gives up? (Mythology!AU - HIATUS/DELAY OF OFFICAL POSTING)

Baby Talk - M, F, A

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Jimin and Jungkook had been trying to get a surrogate for years. Finally when you agree to help them, their dreams seem to be coming true. But, dreams change... (Pregnancy/Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU - HIATUS)

-Oneshots-

Under the Covers - M, A

Taehyung and you are assigned to be married while you hunt down a notorious drug trafficker. Problem is, the two of you don't exactly get along... (Spy!AU)

-Series-

Taming the Beast - M, F, A

You were the next in line to be the head of your village, when your mother gave you to the enemy to save your people from merciless slaughter. What happens when they try to Tame a Beast?

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

-Oneshots-

Cold Chinese - M, F

Part I Part II - COMPLETED

Jin was terribly in love with his boyfriend, Jungkook. But he also had some fantasies to live out. Through you. His female best friend. (Polyamorous!AU)

Witch's Brew - M

With a witch out on the prowl, the Royal Knight Jungkook has been issued a task. But can he complete it? Especially when you're as beautiful as you are? (Knight!AU)

Kill Me Softly - M, F (kinda, if you squint), A

As a reclusive vampire, you haven’t seen one of your kind in centuries. Regardless, Jungkook is tasked with hunting you down and bringing you back to the King by whatever means necessary. Even if you’re shattered by the end of it. (Vampire!AU)

Star Crossed - M, F, A

Theatre had been your life, and one fuck boy was not going to mess it up for you. Probably. (College!AU)

Dreaming of You - M, F

You and Jungkook had been dating a while, but you still hadn't. You know. Got jiggy with it. So this is a story, about how you resolved that problem.

Witch's End - M, F, Heavy A (Main Character Death)

You and Jungkook have been seeing each other for a while. But when new challenges black your way, will you be able to handle the obstacles? Or will your differences be too much in the end after all? (Continuation of Witch's Brew-Can be read as a stand alone)

"Besties for the Resties" - M, F, A

Jungkook had always been your friend since the day you two met as young kids. But what happens when your friendship is put to the test? Can you remain “besties for the resties?” Or will years of friendship be lost in the blink of an eye?

Cat Got Your Tongue? - M, F, A

You were exhausted from schoolwork and just needed a chance to unwind. Jungkook, campus fuckboy, offers his services to help alleviate the stress from studying but is he going to cause more stress than he relieves?

-Series-

Baby Talk - M, F, A

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

*Please note: If any story says it is discontinued/on hiatus I will not be answering asks pertaining to updates for those stories, as I have stated here the story is not currently being worked on or being posted.*

Thank you for stopping by!

Love, Jess

#Jessika Hathaway #BTS #Bangtan #BTS Masterpost #Will edit later #BTS Smut #BTS Fanfiction #BTS x Reader #BTS fanfic #My stories

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