#well. it is. but i wonder if i should use our joint name
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i love responding to "what's your name" with "you may call me *something*" and to "what's your pronouns" with "you may use whatever you want"
i am giving you a permission to call me something. you will never know if it's my actual name probably. but you may use that.
#part of me wonders if it's even still correct to call myself Nada#it's a good enough name and i am okay with it#but um... that's not really mine anymore?#well. it is. but i wonder if i should use our joint name#then again i WOULD be uncomfortable with Damian or especially Adam#so yeah. i don't think that's my name but it's a fine enough neutral enough name#i can probably spin it as Nameless still having no name really#and as Nada is ''nothing'' it would still fit Damian#also ''my name is literally nothing'' is what makes me actually comfortable using Nada#that's simply not a name to me#i think that if anyone calls me Damian instead of Zero i will switch to full paranoia mode#Adam is even worse. do not address him. he's not there. you aren't supposed to know#most of us are much more comfortable being referred to by titles - especially Shadow#if you call Shadow by their birth name they'll probably blow up in anger
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DEATH FIRST TO VULTURES AND SCAVENGERS
🦴 Harrow, photo editing, bones et al by me! 📸 photo and harrow robe by @trickstercheshi
took these pics like 2? months and then totally forgot to post them here! anyway Harrow currently features 122 hand sculpted bones (86 of which are in the rosary!), not counting the spares I made or the 336 resin teeth I bought & drilled for her bracelets and waist chain.
my central requirement for this cosplay is basically that every bone (except the face/ear jewlery) HAS to be made as close as possible in size and shape to an anatomically accurate human bone, because I am nothing of not committed to the inherent wonder of human anatomy. this means: no bone tits, no sizing bones up or down as convenient for aesthetics, no animal bones. I think it turned out great and I'm soooooo excited to make EVEN MORE bones for when I wear her next >:3
rigcage progress is documented on tumblr here, and under the cut are some extra ramblings & detail photos of her rosary & stole!
the rosary is based off of normal catholic rosaries, altered it to fit Ninth House aesthetics. a normal rosary has 5 sections ("Mysteries") made of 10 beads each.
MY rosary has nine (9!!) sections for the Ninthefold ressurection, with each section being made of 8 bones. specifically, each section is made of carpal bones, and there is one carpal bone per section to represent each populated House. anatomy fun fact! humans have 8 different carpal bones in the body (one set in each wrist) all of which I lovingly sculpted to attempted anatomical accuracy.
phalanges are the "separating" ("Our Father"?) beads, and the hanging centerpiece is a metacarpal articulating with 3 phalanges -- "the knuckle of your great-grandmother that represented the Rock, and the Universe, and God." (HtN p. 118).
I went back and forth on what I wanted the centerpiece to be, because "knuckle" has an original anatomical meaning (the talus bone -- of like, sheep, so not an option here per my central requirement) but it also has several colloquial meanings. I've heard "knuckle" being used to describe both the interphalangeal joints of the fingers and the metacarpalphalangeal joint as well. I actually did end up sculpting a life sized human talus bone to test how it would look as the centerpiece, but rejected it due to it simply looking very goofy due to scale and size (it was too big 😔). I also learned how to do a proper hail mary knot for this!
anyway: behold some more pics
for Harrow's stole, I was inspired by @/thatbonejunky's art here as well as @/bondibee's art here! I really wanted to lean into the religious leader aspect of her character. Harrow as not the Reverend *Daughter*, but the *Reverend* Daughter -- especially as this is, due to my own proclivities, definitely a Butch Harrow™ cosplay. The fabric is this cool celtic pattern from JoAnns and the skull is applique + hand beading! I went back and forth on if I should give her tassles on the bottom or not but honestly it came down to tassels just seeming more dramatic, and Harrow deserves this
phew ok that was a lot of rambling. all bones are made of creative paperclay, an air dry clay, and painted with basic acrylics. did you know you can find hundreds of free 3D models of bones free online on sketchfab or by searching "[bone name] 3D model". what was i saying. anyway. i love bone :)
#the locked tomb#harrowhark nonagesimus#the locked tomb cosplay#gideon the ninth#harrow the ninth#tlt cosplay#harrow cosplay progress tag#gideon nav talking time#YAYYYYYY#i love bone :)#idk what times r good for posting but ive been awake for likr 14 hours now so send post
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Soldier Boy
Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x Supe!reader
Characters: Benjamin "Soldier Boy", Hughie, Billy Butcher, Frenchie, Kimiko Miyashrio, MM "Mothers Milk", Annie "Starlight" Janurary
Warnings: Angst, minor fluff, the boys show is a warning itself, things get rough, ben was brainwashed, reader was forced into hiding, ben loves you but sucks at it, reader wants to kick his ass, a lot goes on here lol
Word Count: 1.9k
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I’m sorry there’s another one of you?” Billy asks.
Ben grunts, furrowing his brows. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Frenchie and Kimiko share a look.
“Well- uh- there’s- there’s another supe that was… a part of your team?” Hughie adds with a calm and slow tone, as if he’s talking down a child throwing a tantrum.
“What do you mean? There wasn’t-” He pauses, thinking back to his time before the payback team was officially formed. “You’re lying.” He steps towards Hughie, causing Billy to stand before him.
“Watch yourself, mate.”
“Then his little fuck face mouth better start yapping.”
“Do you really not remember?” Hughie can’t help but ask.
“Does it look like I fucking know what you’re talking about?”
The non-supe jumps at his tone. “Okay, okay. Fair enough. Well,” he gulps, “before there was payback, you- you had a partner.”
“Oh shit,” Frenchie mutters. “The original woman.”
Hughie closes his eyes, slightly shaking his head at his buddy’s poor choice of words. “I wouldn’t use those words exactly but yes.” He turns back to Ben. “She was basically Wonder Woman before Wonder Woman but… cooler. She-”
“She didn’t play by anyone’s rules, much less Voughts.”
Hughie nods, “ex- exactly. You remember her don’t you?”
“Those little dick pricks.” He growls under his breath, taking another hit of his joint. “Fucking erased my memories.”
Billy brows rise to his forehead, “you mean to tell me those dickheads can erase our minds now?”
Ben huffs, “only those who can beat them. Where is she?”
“Uh- see that’s- that’s the thing. We- uh- we don’t know exactly.”
He narrows his eyes at the young man, knowing if he had laser vision, he’d use it.
“They put her away before you rose to fame, which is why her name isn’t familiar.”
-
He enters the bathroom and slams the door shut, causing the walls to shake, almost simulating an earthquake.
He stares into the mirror, reminiscing of a younger him, not that he’s aged but he’s battling an internal battle.
How could he have forgotten you?
Why did they take you away?
Why didn’t he realize it sooner?
He pulls his fist back and listens to the blood rushing through his hand as the glass shatters, falling into the sink, on the counter and to the floor.
He opens the door, pretending like nothing happened. “Alright, how do we find someone who’s been hidden?”
“I have an idea,” Annie adds.
“What’s the plan?” MM asks.
“And no explosions,” Billy adds, glaring at Ben.
“I’m not a fucking kid who needs to be told what to do.”
-
You moan in pain, the container gets colder.
Everything hurts.
You want to give up.
-
He slows down his pace, his body feels colder. He glances down, seeing nothing happening.
His expression hardens, he knows it’s you.
Those fuckers- he should have killed them when he had the chance.
He can tell by the way his heart hurts, it's you but the not remembering hurts him, but why does it hurt so much?
He can’t imagine the magnitude of your relationship having this much of an affect on him.
Fuck, why can't he remember?
-
You want to scream but it’s hard when the mask is snapped in place.
You hate them, hate Vought, hate what they made you.
-
He can’t help but ignore everyone’s wishes to quiet down as he kicks in the door.
His eyes scan around the room before stopping on your previous prison.
He turns, lowering his head; lips snarling at the sight of his precious girl in that damn ice box. “You fuckers have some unpaid debt, I’m here to collect.”
Kimiko pulls Hughie and Frenchie back, the heat already emanating off him before he could let it out.
The cries and plea’s to live and fear of dying do nothing, if anything it’s white noise.
-
More smoke enters your lungs, it’s harder to stay awake.
You don’t want to close your eyes but it’s been harder to hold your breath these last few months.
You don’t know how much longer you can hold on.
It’s like ice crystals are forming in your veins.
-
He lifts his shield and stares down at the bloody mess of what used to be a man- or a woman- he doesn’t care. He straightens himself and takes careful, rushed steps towards you.
He listens for your heartbeat, needing to know if this is all just some sick and twisted lie or if the woman he’s dreaming about is really here.
He leans over and finds your cold face.
The difference between you and him, he got hotter (in more ways than-) and you, you’re cold to the touch and he hasn’t even opened it yet.
“Baby,” he mumbles, the nickname foreign and so familiar on his tongue; it makes him sick to his stomach. He slips his fingers under the handle and lifts it, not caring if he breathes it in too.
“Holy-”
“We came all this way for a dead body?” Billy grunts.
“She’s not fucking dead.”
“Oh my god, they- they preserved her like-”
“The perfect doll they made her.” Ben takes a deep breath, not wanting to blow up… and potentially hurt you.
He can hear the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and knows you’re under; he doesn’t care how long, he breaks apart the container with his gloved hands.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He lifts your limp figure out and tosses it over his shoulder, keeping his shield in his grasp in case he needs to defend you. “Come on, pansies. Let’s get a fucking move on.”
“Are we really just gonna wait around and see if she wakes up? What if she’s like him but even more violent?” Annie asks.
“She wouldn’t,” Ben hisses. He thought it was interesting that a non-supe was fucking a supe but then realized two annoying people make his head pound.
“If you’re too scared to stick around and find out who she is, then get the fuck out of my face before I mess up yours.”
Hughie pulls her out of the room before she could say anything.
-
Ben turns back to your cold figure. “I don’t care how long it is until you wake up, I’m not leaving your side,” he mutters under his breath.
-
You didn’t realize how long it had been since you moved a muscle until now.
Air fills your lungs, seeming like you can breathe for the first time.
You open your eyes to find the room engulfed in darkness. Your eyes take in the room, stopping on the sleeping figure in the chair near the bed.
When were beds so comfortable?
You push yourself off and take a step towards him, almost collapsing at the sensation in your legs.
You close your eyes and take a moment to process everything.
Your eyes snapping to the left, where noise comes from on the other side of the door.
You glance down at Ben and back to the door, you move away from him.
The hinges squeak and you don’t care if he hears or not, the sound of people talking worsens your headache.
You stand in the hallway, covering your eyes at the lights above.
They stop and stare at you, jaws dropping.
The asian female next to the scruffy man, signs to him, asking what to do.
You sign back and ask her to tell the others to quiet down, all the noise hurts your head.
She owlishly blinks, unsure if she saw what she did.
Frenchie sits there stunned, happy his girl could have someone to communicate with but sad he can’t understand fully what it was you said.
You turn and almost bump into him.
He glances at you, wondering what’s going on inside your head and where you learned sign language. “Sweet-” He groans, staring at the broken dry wall particles floating through the air.
“Oh for fucks sake,” Billy groans.
You glance over at him over your shoulder, the light reflecting off your eyes, causing a flicker of bright light to emanate off them.
He furrows his brows at the sight, sharing a look with MM and Annie.
Ben pushes himself off the ground and glances at you, wondering where the hell this strength has been. He takes a deep breath, wondering what’s going on in your head. “What the hell was that?”
So much for mystery.
You glare at him. “Don’t fucking look at me like that,” you tell him with a raspy voice.
He’s stunned, you weren’t one to curse, even when someone pissed you off so much.
“What the fuck happened?” You aim for him, holding him up by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck happened to me?”
He glances down at you, ignoring the stares he gets from the others. “I need you to let me down, baby so I can explain everything.”
Your blood boils at his voice.
The memories of the tape recorder playing as you entered that stupid fucking room.
The beginning of the end.
He furrows his brows at the sight of your red, glowing eyes.
Had he been a non supe, he'd probably shit himself thinking you were gonna blow his head off.
You tighten your grip on his neck and slam his head into the wall before letting him fall under your hand.
You walk away before anything can happen to them.
-
You enter the room you found yourself in and talk deep breaths.
You overcame this before and you can do it again.
Ben grunts as he follows you, wondering what the hell just happened. He enters the room and holds his head. He groans, rubbing the palm of his hands into his eyes.
He raises his head in time to see steam radiating off you.
He reaches for you only for his hand to fall at his side as you race to the bathroom.
The door slams shut.
He listens to you, the heavy breathing and the way your hands shake as you try to calm down. “Sweetheart?” He knocks once. “Let me in and I can explain everything.
“No,” you groan.
The shower turns on, you sit in the tub.
He opens the door, knowing you didn't lock the door.
His eyes fall on your figure and walks in, turning off the water.
“Flamer?” He whispers, smiling at your flaming body.
“Soldier?” You stare at him with a wounded expression.
He reaches for your cheek and you pull away.
He reaches for you again. “How could they keep you from me?”
You close your eyes and lean your head into his hand.
You're hot to the touch but he doesn't care especially as he watches the fire die down, his hand no longer engulfed by your tender flames.
-
After much talking, he got you out of the bathroom and comfortable on the bed as he explained it all, more or less dancing around the reason they pulled him out of his prison.
“Does anybody want to explain why the fuck there's ash in the bathroom?” Billy asks.
“I'll pay you back once we're done.”
The man with a plan rolls his eyes.
#the boys#the boys tv#soldier boy#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy imagines#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy fanfic#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys imagine#the boys imagines#the boys fanfiction#the boys fanfic#the boys x reader#the boys x you#crazyk imagine
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Home
Venture x Reader
OverWatch
2nd POV
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
"you're coming home saturday, yeah?" you asked your partner over the phone, taking your calendar that was hung up on your fridge. you placed it on the island, pulling your phone away from your left ear and switching it over to your right, your elbows propped up on the counter as you leaned on it, grabbing a nearby pencil and twirling it around in your fingers.
a sigh escaped the others lips, a faint 'i'm telling her right now.' makes its way through the speaker of the phone. "no...no, no, not tomorrow." the huffed, clearly annoyed.
you perked up at the news, dropping the pencil as you pushed yourself off of the counter, wondering around your apartment. "what?! what do you mean, 'not tomorrow', sloan?" you cried, disappointed in the news. you ran your free hand through your hair, stopping at the top of your scalp as you gently pulled at your hair. "w-why are you guys staying longer? i thought you guys found enough artifacts at the site!”
"apparently, the boss found another site he wants to visit, it'll take us all day saturday to get there, sunday is our rest day, then we'll start exploring monday through friday." your partner, sloan explained, looking at the written schedule that was in front of them as they spoke, bouncing their leg.
“ANOTHER site?!” you scoffed, walking back to the island and taking a seat, snagging the calendar and pencil to fix the dates. “are you fucking kidding me?! this is the fourth one you’ve been too! in what- the span of three weeks?!” you pulled your phone away from your ear, putting it on speaker as you placed it carefully on the marble countertop as you erased the pencil marks.
sloan scoffed, humming in agreement on how stupid the whole thing was. even though it bright in good money, enough to feed you two, pay rent, go out on dates and travel, it pulled them away from you more than they would like. “tell me about it.” sloan huffed, standing up from their seated position. "we should hopefully be home by next sunday, and have that dinner with the crew at that one joint..."
you groaned, remembering the celebratory dinner. "right! i forgot about that." you muttered, biting on your thumb nail.
the line was quite, besides the loud laughter that came from sloan's end. it suddenly went dead silent, a door clicking shut was all you heard as you sat at the island. "what do you want to do?" sloan asked, taking a seat at their bed that was freshly made, their clothing, toiletries and other things they brought with them packed in their suitcases.
"what do you mean?" you asked, scribbling down the dates sloan mentioned a few minutes prior.
"with the reservations! and the plans we made." they waved a hand around, sighing as they hunched forward. "should we just move them until i get back? or you can go with your friends or whoever and we can go another time."
you pressed the eraser against your lip, looking at the name you had sloan saved under as well as the picture of the two of you that was saved as their profile. “i…i uh, let’s just move the dates.” you sighed, sliding the pencil behind your ear. “i’ll call the restaurants and whatnot to move them to next week, it won’t be a big deal.”
sloan softly nodded, whipping out their wallet from one of many jacket pockets they had and opened it single handedly, pinching their phone in between their right shoulder and their face. “okay…text me when you get the new reservations.” sloan meekly smiled, opening one of the wallet pockets before pulling out a polaroid of the two of you, small hearts doodled the white boarder that surrounded the picture.
you hummed, muttering a small ‘will do’ under your breath as you click the speaker button to cancel it before bring the phone up to your ear. your eyes darted around the kitchen, a mess of pots, pans, and silverware was no where in sight in your sink, which you grew fond over. you always loved seeing sloan in the kitchen, cooking away at their family recipes which had the place smelling like the amazing spices for weeks on end. sure, you had stocks of food that they cooked before the mission in the fridge from weeks prior, but it wasn’t the same, since all you had to do was to warm them up, either on the oven or in the microwave.
it never tasted the same as when your lover made them for you.
your eyes started to become glassy as your lip quivered, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip before any noise sneaked its way out of your throat. it’s been three weeks since you’ve seen sloan, going on four since sloan is staying longer. you were missing them like crazy, the apartment was unbearably quite without them home. you wanted to voice your opinion out about the matter for a while, but they’ve been working there since they’ve been sixteen-ten years at the same company! you couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to them in your wildest dreams, they meant so much to you for you to do that.
you softly shook your head, telling your brain to cut it out and save it for when you were off the phone so they didn’t feel the guilt of hurting you. but, that plan was quickly abandoned as tears rolled down your cheeks, shaky breaths filled the silence and alerted your partner on the other end of the phone.
“cariño?” venture gasped out, their attention snapping away from the photo and towards the sounds of your sobs. they placed their wallet and the photo to their left side, the mattress slightly creaking as they shuffled around on the bed. “what’s wrong?”
you wiped away your tears, choking on a sob as your hand holding your phone began to shake against your face, focusing most of your attention onto that in oder to make it stop. “it’s just…” you swallowed a lump that clogged your throat, making it hard to speak. ‘might as well tell them.’ you let out a cry, sniffing before looking down at the marble countertop. “it’s so hard to be away from you. especially for four weeks, sloan! like-it’s absolutely crazy!”
sloan nodded softly, taking your words into consideration. their attention snapped to the door that creaked open, covering the bottom of their phone as they locked eyes with zane, one of their coworkers.
zane took the hint and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him.
“but.” your voice startled sloan back to reality, their undivided attention back to you. “i didn’t want to say any of this because this is your dream! you love this job and i don’t want to stop you.”
the two of you went silent, besides your faint sobs and sniffles.
sloan ran a hand through their hair, their fingers twirling around the hairs of their undercut before stopping at the base of their neck, gently massaging at the muscle. “i…i get it.” sloan reassured, dropping their hand that was at their neck back to their lap.
you blinked, your lashes soaked in your tears as they brushed against your brow bone. “really?” you muttered, your voice soft.
sloan nodded, their attention glued onto their boots. “yeah! i miss you so much, you’re all i think and talk about!” they chuckled, smiling warmly at the sound of your faint snicker. sloan’s smile faintly dropped, becoming serious as their eyes darted over to the picture of you two that was to the left of them. “these long and far trips suck. and-and i know this year has been full of them, but i promise you that there won’t be as many later in life.”
“promise?” you bit back a small smile, your heart slightly fluttering at the sound of sloan’s chuckle.
“promise, mi amor.”
•••
today was the day.
sloan camron was coming home.
you were practically bouncing off the wall as you paced around the living room, phone in hand as you reread the long message that was sent in the wayfinders groupchat that you were so grateful to be added to (as well as other’s family and spouses).
hello members and family of the wayfinder’s society,
as you all know, today is the day we’re all coming home from a four week exploration that took place in australia. during these four weeks, we were thankful enough to visit, explore and research five sites scattered around the land. with great discoveries of artifacts, gems, rocks, fossils and much more, we have decided to come home, and let our members have a six month ‘break’ from traveling. during this ‘break’, members, and family members, will be called to our company building for meetings, dinner parties, and other events we will be hosting during those six months before we start up traveling again.
we will, hopefully, arrive to the airport at 7:10 PM. it’ll take about 30 minutes to an hour before we’re all off the plane, then you all will be expected to be at our celebratory dinner at 9:20 PM, at the local bar and pizzeria uptown. (oliver will provided the location when we land)
when we arrive to the airport, we will be leaving the plane in alphabetical order by last name. so family, please do the following:
if you have someone in the A-K range, show up to pick up your person then immediately go home to get ready for the dinner.
if you have someone in the J-Z range, be ready before you pick up your person. you should have time to let your person freshen up before going to the diner. if not, bring a change of clothes, cologne/perfume and whatever’s necessary for them to look somewhat presentable.
members of the wayfinder’s, please wear your jackets to the dinner. we need to represent the company while we’re out having a good time tonight.
- thanks, ben (the boss)
you bit your lip as you grinned, throwing your arms up as you cheered, jumping around with a laugh.
you snapped out of your trance and made your way to the shared bedroom, checking-for the tenth time- that you had everything laid out for the two of you.
a cute outfit for you laid on the bed and some makeup was already out of your makeup bag and lined up in order along your desk. you also had some jewelry laid out, your shoes and a bottle of perfume.
a fresh pair of clothes was laid out for sloan, just a simple jeans and t-shirt for your lover. you also placed some of their rings, a matching necklace that you two had and their cologne bottle on the mattress for them.
as of now, it’s 6:32. if you leave now, you’ll get to the airport by 6:52 if you were lucky, 7:05 with the light traffic that was on the freeway.
smiling, you grabbed your keys and made your way to your car. you locked the door behind you before practically skipping down the steps and towards the parking lot. you, shockingly, got to your car within two minutes. unlocking it, you got inside and into the drivers seat, putting the keys into the keyhole and starting the engine. taking a deep breath, you put the car into reverse and backed out before shifting gears and driving out of the parking lot.
••• (i ain’t writing the drive)
chitter filled your ears as you walked through the building, the clicks of shoes were drowned out by the voices, but if you listened hard enough, you could hear it. you gently rubbed your hands up and down your arms, trying to keep yourself slightly warm from the cold air. the roars of engines echoed through the building as airplanes flew overhead or as they made their way down the runway.
you glanced around the airport, people waiting at their gates with their luggage or people walking to and fro with suitcases dragging behind them filled your view. it surprisingly not too crowded, but you guessed it was because of how late it was.
“y/n!” a voice called out, snapping you out of your trance. there stood a girl who was about 5’7, she had green-hazel eyes with tan skin, dark freckles covered certain areas of her skin, as well as a faint, natural blush on her cheeks. she had gorgeous, wavy dirty brown hair that fell a little past her mid back, faint pops of orange peeked through her hair as well. she wore a beautiful, light orange sun dress with a plaid pattern that fell a little short of her knees. she also had simple white flats on with her gold anklet.
“katie! oh, my god, hi!” you beamed, jogging over to the girl and engulfing her into a hug. as the two of you hugged one another, you got a strong scent of orange blossom. ‘man, does she love orange.’ you joked to yourself, the two of you pulling away from the hug. “how have you been?”
she faintly waved a hand around, rolling her eyes in a playful expression. “ah, you know. bored out of my MIND!” she laughed, gently pushing your left shoulder. her smile softened slightly, her brows knitting together as she gestured a hand in your direction. “but what about you? this is the longest sloan and you have been apart- the two of you are a packaged deal!…how are you holding up?”
you sighed, biting the insides of your cheeks as you remembered last week; you crying to your dear partner about their work and how hard it’s been on you. you blinked a few times, chuckling awkwardly before clearing your throat. “it’s hard, but um…i’ve managed.” you confessed, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting vulnerable in a fucking airport, but you’ve seen worse things; both online and in real life. “definitely different then the two week trips.”
katie nodded with a hum, crossing her arms. “no, i totally understand. it still bugs me when zane’s gone for anything longer than a week.” she reassured in a way, placing a hand on her chest.
you let out a sarcastic sigh, throwing a hand on her shoulder which made her let out a laugh. “FINALLY! someone who gets it!” you joked, laughing along with her.
a taller man, about 5’11 with black, shaggy hair and light blue eyes walked over to the two of you, a faint smile on his lips. “i hate to interrupt…BUT the planes here and they’re making they’re way out.” he beamed, gently nudging you both over to the crowd that started to form around the door.
katie gasped, throwing her arms around the man as she jumped up and down in excitement. “ugh, thank you travis!!” she grinned, letting go of the man before turning back to you, placing an arm around your shoulder so she wouldn’t lose you.
members of the wayfinders started to make their way out of the jetway, immediately looking for their family, friends and significant others.
as you watched the faces walk by, you realized something. you slowly turned to katie, opening your mouth to point out your observation before shutting your mouth when you saw her pale, wide eyed expression. “hey…hey abby?” you called, slipping away from the dirty blond and making your way over to the ginger.
abby smiled brightly, waving at a nearby group before turning towards you, her eyes going wide when she saw you. “y/n?” she gasped, walking over to katie with you at her side. she ran a hand through her hair when it clicked in her head, groaning faintly. “did ben not send the new message?!” she snapped, adjusting her bag that she held in her right hand.
katie glanced over to you before going back to abby with a quirked brow. “what new message?” she asked, shaking her head softly to finalize her thought.
abby sighed, darting her attention between the two of you. “ben changed the order of how we get off-it’s by first name!” she huffed, jerking her head to the side as she walked off, the two of you following after her. “so since you’re here for zane and your here for sloan, you two have to go back home to get ready and whatever.”
you groaned, slapping a palm to your forehead. “fucking ben.” you spat under your breath, making abby click her tongue in agreement.
“will we have time to leave?” katie asked, tilting her head softly.
abby nodded. “yeah, it’ll take way more than an hour for everyone to get out of the plane.” she shrugged faintly.
“alright, but thank you for the heads up, i greatly appreciate it.” you smiled, nodding at the advice that she gave.
abby smiled softly, pulling you into a quick hug. “anytime! it’s nice to see the two of you again.” she gushed, pulling away and taking katie into a hug before making her way over to her family.
katie sucked in a breath, turning on her heels towards you. “let’s ride together, yeah?” she offered, gently taking your hand into her and she dragged you towards the parking.
you nodded catching up to the girl before you two ended up running out of the airport doors.
•••
“thank you for letting me use your flat iron! you’re a life savor!” katie sighed in relief from the small bathroom, ironing her hair until it was somewhat straight.
you hummed somewhat loudly for the girl to hear you from the bathroom, brushing your eyeshadow onto your eyelid. it was a simple, light shimmer, faint f/c sparkles peaking through when you blinked. you threw your brush into your makeup bag, snatching your mascara before twisting the bottle open and applying it onto your lashes until you were satisfied. “you’re more than welcome to touch of your makeup, too!” you called out, adding some highlighter to your inner corner and your nose. “feel free to use my makeup if you’d like!” you grabbed your lipstick, popping the cap off before twisting it up and swiping it onto your lips.
“awe, thank you, y/n!” she cooed, turning off the flat iron and sliding over to your room. she walked over to your desk, grabbing your mascara tub and applying the product onto her lashes. “we’re cutting it super close, we should probably get ready to go soon.”
you nodded in agreement, fixing your hair and outfit before standing up. “yeah, i think we should go now.” you made your way over to the bag that held sloan’s clothes, picking it up and throwing it over your shoulder.
katie closed the mascara, nodding with a hum before following after you, grabbing the bag with zane’s clothes before the two of you headed out of your apartment and towards her car.
the drive back to the airport was quick and tense, the two of you anxious for if you missed seeing your partners coming out of the jetway.
once you two arrived at the parking lot, you grabbed the bag you packed and made your way to your car, throwing it into the backseats when you unlocked it before locking it and running into the building with katie in tow.
“think we made it on time for them?” you asked, yelping when you almost pumped into someone. you called out an apology, spinning around them before running alongside your friend again.
“i hope so!” katie gulped, the two of you slowing down. the two of you started to walk over to where the wayfinder’s where at, katie pointing to a group before excusing herself over to them, leaving you with a wave.
you swallowed nervously, peering over the crowd of people while you stepped onto your tippy toes. brushing some of your hair behind your ears, you glanced around the surrounding area before stopping in your tracks.
there they were.
standing ways in front of you was sloan camron. or someone that looked like them. they looked so different, but so familiar at the same time. maybe it was the uncut, poorly kept hair and the new scars that imprinted into their tan skin.
the two do you stared at one another in shock. this couldn’t be real, it didn’t feel real to you. you felt lightheaded, overwhelmed at the sight of them.
you slowly inched forward, your feet dragging against the white tile underneath you. tears started to prick at your eyes, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks, and soon, you were sobbing and picking up your speed, running straight at them.
sloan also had tears in their eyes, dropping their heavy bags of equipment and of clothes onto the tile before also making their way towards you, tears streaming down their face.
the two of you quickly met in the middle, the two of you almost falling over from sloan’s brute strength. the two of you clawed and gripped at each other, both of you sobbing uncontrollably into each other arms.
you pulled away, reaching out and cupping sloan’s cheeks, rubbing your thumbs under their eyes which smudged their tears into their skin. your glassy eyes darted around their face, noticing a few small scars scattered around. but the things that’s stayed the same where their dimples, the chip on their tooth, and their eyes. oh, how you could get lost in their deep caramel eyes.
sloan leaned into your hands, a weak smile twisting in their lips as their eyes sparked in the airport lightning. they leaned their face into yours, your lips connecting with a small desire, a small hunger between the two of you.
your hand snaked around their neck, pulling them closer into you and deepening the kiss. sloan pulled you closer by the waist, crouching down slightly and picking you up, their arms hooking around your upper thighs and spinning you around slightly, making the two of you break the kiss with a faint laugh.
“i’ve missed you so much, mi amor.” sloan sighed shakily, nuzzling their face into the crook of your neck, softly kissing around your neck and up to your jaw.
you pressed your lips on the top of their head, tears still slowly rolling down your cheeks. you gently nudged their head back to make eye contact with them, your eyes darting in between theirs. “i still can’t believe you’re here.” you whispered, chuckling softly as you were placed back onto your feet, their hands still around your waist.
sloan nodded faintly, smiling as they kissed your temple. “it’s feel so great to be back.” they murmured against your face.
the two of you leaned into another kiss, pulling back sooner than you’d both liked as a pair of hands were pressed onto your shoulders.
“hey, i’d hate to be that guy.” zane meekly smiled with a shrug. “but we got a dinner to get to in like…hmm…i dunno-20 minutes?”
“hey, if we’re late,” sloan pointed between the two of you before pointing at zane and katie. “then you’re late, too.”
“hey, you’re lucky ben changed the time for the dinner.” katie jabbed back, zane and her waving before walking off.
you pulled at the black tshirt that was almost fully caked in dirt and grime. “cmon, you smell like dirt and sweat and you need to change out of these clothes.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
YIPPIEEE IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR TOO LONGG BUT IM FINALLY DONEE!!
I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED!:) SORRY IF ITS A LITTLE CRINGE OR ANYTHING😓
but im cringe but free
#fanfic#reading#request are welcome#overwatch#characterxreader#overwatch2#venture#venture overwatch#venture ow2#venture x reader#sloane x reader#sloan x reader#sloane cameron#sloan cameron#hauntingkiki
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Saturday, 1:36 PM, ZoSul Taman Botani, Tomarang
Lauryn: This has been a nice date, Honor-Luke. It definitely makes up for embarrassing me at my birthday party. Speaking of which, are you proposing soon?
Honor-Luke: About that… I’ve been thinking and… I think we should call off our courtship. I see the way CJ and Kimber are and I don’t think we have the same spark. You deserve to have someone who loves you that much.
Lauryn: You’re joking right?
Honor-Luke: Um, no?
Lauryn: Do you know what happens to girls with failed courtships in our community? We get seen as used goods. No one will court me if you break up with me. Everyone’s going to think I’m your sloppy seconds.
Honor-Luke: I’m sure that’s not true. I’ve done nothing to harm your purity.
Lauryn: THAT DOESN’T MATTER! All the guys are going to wonder why I wasn’t good enough for you!
Honor-Luke: All I have to do is tell them that God didn’t call me to you. Which is the truth. There’s nothing wrong with you at all, Lauryn, I just don’t think I love you.
Lauryn: Well, you better figure out how to fall in love with me in six months. Because our entire lives my twin and I planned to have a joint wedding and wear matching dresses and to marry brothers so we could continue to have the same last name. And let’s face it, you’re not that good looking. Your brother is way cuter and way nicer. I probably wouldn’t love you either, but I’m willing to submit to you and be a good wife. Not many women do that nowadays. Be grateful. You better not be the one to screw up me and Kimber’s dreams.
Honor-Luke: …Are you joking?
Lauryn: Serious as hell.
Honor-Luke: You’re crazy! I was trying to be nice about it but you want to know the real reason I’m not into you? I don’t like you because you’re a big, fat, messy, clumsy oaf and you and your sister are way to dependent on each other. I definitely don’t want to marry you now. This is over!
Lauryn: Oh wow! Wild for you to say I’m too dependent on my sister when this is the first time you’ve done something without your brother. But if you call off the relationship now, I’m going to call my dad and tell him you tried to have sex with me, and I turned you down, and that’s why you don’t want to see me anymore.
Honor-Luke: What the— fine! Fine! I’ll get a ring for you within the week.
Lauryn: Pleasure doing business, future hubby.
#fundie simblr#fundie sims#sims 4 legacy#sims 4 story#ts4 legacy#ts4 story#ts4#simblr#shs: jamilah#i’m genuinely curious#if something like this has actually happened in the fundieverse#by this i mean a girl using blackmail to get into a marriage
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Pairing: Jungkook X reader
Theme: angst, friends to lovers to enemies
Warning: +18, mention of drugs, smut, angst, JK is kinda an asshole
Song: Friends-Chase Atlantic
Word count: 1k+
A/N: hey, I was bored last night so I thought “why not write a little one shot?”. Hope u like it and sorry english is my second language so I tend to make some mistakes. Have a great dayyy
One thing I learned in the past few months is to always keep your promises. I didn't do that which led to, me lying to every single person I love only to be with the man that I loved. Can you even call it love? I think so. At least from my perspective, but from his? Did he love me or did he love the rush of excitement that came with the forbidden romance between us? I don't know and I probably won't ever know but what I know is that we both screwed up. The promise we made many years ago had its purpose and we ignored it because we were blinded by the mind-blowing sex we had when none of our friends were around.
Now we're sitting here, pretending like the past months never happened, keeping up this facade for our friends in the hope that they will never find out. The smell of weed lingers in the air, taking me back to the night before everything went down. "You want sum' "J.T. holds a package of cigarettes in his hand. I stretch my arm slightly to take one and light it up before I blow out the smoke into the cold night air. "I thought you wanted to quit" His raspy voice reaches my ears, making me stop my movements for a second. "I've changed my mind" I try to make my voice sound as normal as possible but even an idiot could see that something was off.
We were very close, even before our 'little romance' but now I couldn't even look into his eyes. "You guys are fine?" Cora asks. "Yeah, why wouldn't we?" and another lie. "You two seem off. I just thought you fought or something" She's right, we fought but that's the consequence of fucking your best friend behind closed doors. They drop the topic fortunately and out of one cigarette becomes a joint. Our five friends talk and laugh but the only quiet ones are me and him.
"I should head home now. It's past midnight and I have practice tomorrow" I get up from the bench and take my bag. "How do you get home?" Dane asks, reminding me that he had quite a few drinks by now. "Walkin' " I feel his gaze on my body and before I can think any further he stands up and says "I'll drive you". I want to say something. I want to say no, I really want to but I can't because our friends are listening. I wave them goodbye and start heading into the dark with him behind me like a guardian angel.
"I can walk" my voice echoes through the darkness, making him let out a laugh. "What's so funny?" "When will you stop lying, y/n?" I stop in my tracks and turn around to face him. "You are scared of the dark. You hate walking around at this hour"
"Things change" my answer makes him laugh again. "I still wonder how the others never found out because baby you are a terrible liar". My eyes widened at his statement but also because of the pet name he always called me when no one was around.
"I'm not a liar" another lie. "You are. You never have practice on Sundays". Fuck this son of a bitch. How does he remember every detail about me and makes me feel things I shouldn't? "I'm not the only liar here" my arms crossed in front of my chest, trying to make myself feel less exposed. "You're right but the difference is that I don't deny it" I want to rip this damn smirk off of his face, that he always makes when he knows he's right. He gets on his bike and puts his helmet on while I stand there dumbfounded. "Get on top" he throws the other helmet and I catch it. My eyes roll before putting it on and hopping behind him onto the bike. He puts on the engine after making sure my hands are secured around his waist that I knew so well and before I could feel my heart beating faster, we drove off into the night.
***
I should've known better when he said he wanted to follow me upstairs and make sure I would get home safely. But I was too dumb to think twice or maybe I hoped that this would happen. That's the reason why he's pounding inside me, right? Making me cry out the noises that he loved so much while my acrylic nails bury into his skin. I feel his muscles flex under my touch. "Fuck" he curses when my walls clench around him. His heavy breaths tickle the side of my neck while his tattooed hand goes down to stoke my waist. Soft moans escape my mouth and I feel his lips again.
My legs feel numb, the kiss deepens and I feel him hitting the spot that makes me want to scream out his name. It's like he can read my mind. Fuck you Jeon. "Do it baby. Say my name" he grunts beside my ear. I whine at the pleasure that starts building up inside me and as much I hate him, I still can't get enough of him. "Say my name baby. Tell me who makes you feel good"
"Fuck you, Jungkook" is the only thing I get out before the knot in my stomach explodes and my orgasm rolls all over my body.
He moans at the feeling of my walls tightening around him and increases his speed, pounding faster into my dripping core. "I missed you" did he? "Fuck I missed you so much" my heart clenches and I feel what I did when he whispered sweet nothings when he had me in his arms. And that's the moment I start thinking that maybe he has changed. Maybe we can try to be something again but this time stop lying about it. Dumb little girl. Because the next day I wake up he's gone...again.
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Marti it is Moss *does small dance* sending in a Hobbit imagine should it strike your fancy to answer. If not feel free to delete you come first and foremost! Your blog is always a delight and i read everything you post like its the morning newspaper.
Im wondering if you would write a hobbit headcanon for a reader who uses a mobility aid like forearm crutches!
I myself use forearm crutches (named Catcher and Holder a la Dwalin) for dizziness and weakness due to neurological issues, but there are many reasons for their use from joint pain to hypermobility. Sometimes people use them all the time and other times they are only used when they have flare ups (some have to have them available all the time in case of The Return tm)
Sometimes you use one and sometimes you use two. All depends on condition severity, needs,what youre doing, and preference
Even when you have a flare up you may not prefer to use them for short distances ie in your house some people choose not to. I use mine on the steps unless im doing something hazardous and dont want to risk a fall (and be able to walk in general)which ive become prone to over the last two years.
You still live your life and do what you do sometimes its a bit different other times its not. Sometimes you have a stick or two.
You can make a lot of fun decorations and functional tools like cupholders and pouches for your crutches and stickers make them unique and customizable. Honestly the biggest challenge for me is mugs and stairs+ other two handed tasks 😩 let me see someone smack a warg protecting their bestie and then lament not planning their cuppa retrieval rofl.
Im wondering how our lads would have a time with this- not acceptance wise as i know Dwarves are very accepting. More along lines of shenanigans wholesome fun bonding the good daily stuff that you write so beautifully and capture each one of them so well!
Thank you so much and if you have any questions please feel free to reach out
🌿🏹moss🏹🌿
Hello Moss 🥰💚 OMG Catcher and Holder that's perfectttt! Sorry this post is so fuckin long in the making but hopefully you enjoy it and this captures it well! I confess I don't personally use a mobility aid at this time so I may not have the greatest frame of reference 😅 but yeah I hope you like these little moments! *does small exit dance in return*
Warnings: canon typical violence in some
Thorin's Company + Reader With Mobility Aids
Balin
“Might I ask who built that?” Polite as ever, Balin motioned to the chair upon which you had affixed a pair of wheels. “I did,” you answered, “I was the only person in my little village who needed something like this.” “Well, you are quite the craftsman. Would that you had no ties to your hometown and the Lonely Mountain could snap you up! You could see those skills built up tenfold.” “R-really? I came here to Laketown for something just like that! But I’ll confess I think you will be a far better teacher.” Winking, you gave Balin a smile he mirrored. “You’re resilient. Smart as a whip, too! It would be my honor.” “And after all,” you added, “If anyone would know how to mount a crossbow on the arms, it would be dwarves!” At that, even as polite a dwarf as Balin could hardly help bursting into a wicked grin.
Dwalin
“Nice axes.” “Forged them myself,” Dwalin answered with a nod, “Grasper and Keeper. One grasps your soul, the other keeps it.” “How funny,” you remarked, raising your forearm crutches, “I call these Catcher and Holder. Same idea only with the body. Suppose that isn’t nearly as impressive, though.” “Impressive?” Dwalin burst out. “We’ve all got our battle scars. Our wounds. Never be ashamed of that. The fact that you’re still up ‘n’ going? Be proud. I can show you plenty o’ scars myself!” At that last bit, Dwalin began lifting up his tunic to reveal toned skin paled in some places and darkened in others by all manner of scars and at that, you couldn’t help shyly laughing. Proud indeed.
Thorin
Yes, the king had not denied you entry into his company when Gandalf had recommended you, but he had raised and furrowed his regal brow in the skeptical look all but branded into your mind. He’d asked Gandalf if he was certain, and from then on the fire in your heart blazed. Certainly Thorin treated you as an equal, giving you the tasks he gave all others, but he had been yet to see you in battle and you knew that was where your proof would solidify. In fact, the first time wargs closed in upon you, you were one of the first to run back at them. Hearing the way Thorin called your name, but thoroughly ignoring it in favor of landing a solid crack upon the nearest adversary's skull. Luckily your body was having a better day anyway despite all the walking, because you spun and smashed your way through the orc pack, especially once you saw the way one bowled Bofur and Dori over. Fire took over your heart and eyes as you swung your mace until you could swing no more, all but deaf to the cracking of heads and the clattering of your allies’ blades through that pounding adrenaline. At the end of it all, Thorin approached you, his expression surprisingly mild. Then it broke into a smile. “The wizard was right about you,” he told you, clapping a hand to your shoulder, “Invaluable in all respects indeed.”
Oin
“Oh, that’s clever, that is!” “My eyes are up here,” you quipped, crossing your arms and smiling sardonically down at the dwarf bent over peering at your wheels. At that, Oin tilted his head up to look back at you, giving a raucous heh heh heh of laughter. “Never seen anything like this lot before,” he commented, shaking his head and running a hand over the frame of your chair, “You’d think dwarves’d be the first to make ‘em! ‘S beautiful.” Your lips parted wordlessly for a few moments before you spoke, head still slightly tilted. “Beautiful?” “Course!” Oin replied, smiling widely as he rose to his feet again. “A real beauty for sure. A marvel, actually. It is quite the privilege to get to see it in action!” “No one has ever told me that before,” you replied quietly, a smile spreading across your lips.
Gloin
Orcs rushed you from every side, sending you scrambling as fast as your crutches could support you. Carrying a sword aside it all was about as unwieldy as one imagined, but you knew no different. In fact, your best strike that fight had nearly taken a whole arm off. Catching sight of you, though, the nearest of your blood-spattered adversaries grinned and gave a savage kick, sending your crutches flying from beneath you. Teetering, you pitched forward, trying to catch yourself with one arm and steady your sword with the other as the shout rang out. “You think you’re so clever, you great filthy buzzard? I don’t think so!” With a savage growl of his own, Gloin flew into the fray, and with a violent swing of his axe the orc’s head was sent unceremoniously tumbling to the dirt. “Serves ‘m right, eh?” Gloin asked with a smug look as he extended a hand, helping you up, handing you your crutches, and even gently dusting you off.
Bifur
You had seen the way he glanced your way. How his eyes traced the lines of the crutches extending from your forearms, the extensions of steel that made walking less painless. And running more painless if you were a charging warg on the receiving end of a bash to the face. Bifur had seen the way you slid your arms free to motion and sign to him, indicating the interesting things seen along the road. If you had a tendency to go nonverbal, he would aid you in removing your crutches when you needed to sign. Such things had been floating in your mind when you sat by his side, asked him if he understood in a way. You certainly felt understood in his presence, after all. Bifur glanced away with haste, but still you caught notice of tears in his dark eyes, just for a moment. A moment before the smile spread across his face and he leaned in, gently resting his forehead against yours- carefully, of course, so you barely felt the brush of the axe against your joined skin.
Bofur
“Bofur!” Uncaring how earsplitting your scream may have been, you charged forward, heaving one leg before the other as fast as you could while still keeping a hand on your walker. Which was faster than even you realized, sped by adrenaline and rage and urgency all pounding through your ears. Loading your crossbow again and again, you fired three successive shots into the assailant’s side, shoulder, and finally with the last you struck his ugly head and knocked him down onto his ass. For good. Sighing heavily, you leaned for just a moment on your walker frame before making your way to Bofur’s side, this time at a less painful pace, and turned it around to take a seat. Leaning down, you reached for his hand. “Bofur, are you alright?” “I am thanks to you,” he chuckled, his hazel eyes fixed upon you fondly, “Maybe I need to get myself one of those. Seems to aid the aim, having something to lean on.” Grinning and blinking back tears, you procured a cloth and a strip of bandage and started to dab away the blood on his shoulder.
Bombur
“Hope this isn’t rude…” You were surprised by the sound of Bombur's soft voice coming from your side, turning from the journal you wrote in and setting your implements aside. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes, well aware of all the 'not rude' inquiries you'd received over the years as to why you carried crutches, especially if some days you did not. However, knowing this one came from sweet Bombur softened you. He actually meant it. "...But what's the hardest part of having those?" You couldn't resist a snicker at the thought that immediately rose to your mind. "You'd really like to know?" "Yes," he nodded, "If I may." With another little snort, you smiled and told him, "Mugs." "Mugs?" "Mugs and stairs. Can't tell you the number of times I've spilled on my way up. Anything that takes two hands, really." "I see!" The conversation ended with Bombur's eyes lighting up. At least you thought it had ended... Several days later, he came shuffling up to you with that same sweetly eager glint and his hands behind his back. "I've made you something," he told you, pulling out an open cylinder of steel and unfolding another little piece from it, "Hope it works. It's a little mug holder. Go on, let's see if it fits." Snapping the little unfolding piece to your crutch, Bombur watched your face break into a grin as it remained in place. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, Bombur. Thank you." "You deserve it," he replied, smiling fondly at you.
Dori
“I wouldn’t exactly mind having one of those.” “A cane?” You arched a brow. “I’ve always thought it made you look distinguished,” he admitted with a smile. “Now that is a new one,” you commented wryly, “All for use of my leg.” “Nothing wrong with it,” Dori shrugged, “We all do what we must. Seems a shame you’ve such a plain one, though.” At that, your proverbial ears perked up. “As opposed to what?” “Well,” he shrugged, “I don’t know. Haven’t you seen all the nice silver tips and things they put on canes?” “Ah,” you nodded, “I see what you mean! It is a bit of a shame I haven’t anything to decorate mine with, isn’t it?” “Haven’t anything? What do you call this?” With that emphasized last word, Dori reached behind into his pack and procured a little silver charm, one carved richly with dwarven runes and even centered with a little green stone. Fiddling at his back more, the dwarf also found a section of string and hastily tied it to your cane’s handle. “Now what do you call that?” He asked, waving a hand over the charm. “I have a bit of luster dust if you’d like something more.” Needless to say, it was the most fun night you’d had in those endless weeks of trekking.
Nori
Raising one eyebrow at Nori, you stared in skepticism as he held a hand out and repeated his request. “Your cane, please?” “How do I know you won’t just run off with it?” You shot back. “You’re sitting,” he pointed out, “Not like you really need it. Besides, do you really think I’d be so incorrigible a scoundrel as to make off with someone’s means of walkin’ for no reason?” Nori’s gaze slid upward from your carven wood cane back to your eyes, which remained as they were. “Second thought, don’t answer that. Just trust me, hm? You won’t regret it. Dwarf’s honor.” At the invoking of honor, an action infrequently taken by Nori, your brow lowered to form a more neutral, though inquisitive, expression as you handed your cane over. You were quickly distracted by conversation from Dori as you sat, folding your hands in both complacency and content and shivering a bit in the snow. The conversation continued for some time until an ‘A-ha!’ rang out and Nori came running back up, triumphantly hoisting your cane, to which he had crudely affixed one of his many knives. “And what,” you asked, “Is this?” Nodding beyond your night’s campground, Nori indicated the ice extending across the ground. “Aid in your trek! Can’t have you slipping, can you? Not that I won’t catch ya.” He winked.
Ori
“Your sticks!” Ori gasped, brown eyes wide with horror. “Where are they?” “My crutches?” Eyebrows sliding upward in amusement, you made your way toward the young dwarf, who was stitching a sock a handful of feet away. At that, he simply nodded, repairs completely abandoned upon his lap. "Oh, I simply had no need for them today," you answered with a small shrug of your shoulders. At that, Ori gave a curious little frown. “So you can walk some days?” “It isn’t only a matter of walking,” you chuckled, “Moreso that some days my pain and balance are worse.” “Like when Gloin’s leg bothers him?” Ori asked, face turning to childlike eagerness. “Or how Bifur doesn't talk some days?" A little smile spread across your face and your chest expanded with warmth. "Yes," you agreed, "Just like that, Ori."
Fili
Mind drifting off in tandem with the pulsing ache of your limbs, you gazed at the flicker of the fire, faintly drifting smoke curling into the air from pipes and the kindling itself. Your hands idly wrung your cane until the sensation of warmth brushing your leg drew you from your empty focus spiral. Shifting your gaze, you were met with the sight of Fili sitting at your side. "Think I might need one of those after today." Following his gaze, your eyes fell back down to your hands, more specifically the cane held there. "Your own mobility aid or the other?" At your last words, Fili quirked up a golden brow. "The other?" He repeated. Smirking proudly, you slid the end off your cane, revealing a sword hidden within. “The other,” you repeated once more with emphasis, “Guess you weren’t paying attention to how I heaved so many goblins off that bridge.” “You’re right,” Fili agreed, blue eyes lighting up in the fireglow, “I do want that. How long has that been there?” “Whole time.” “Just waiting for the right moment, eh?” “Of course,” you bantered back, “Gotta make a show.”
Kili
“Can I try?” Kili smiled up at you as you blinked at him, face blank with thought. Reaching down, he pantomimed using your crutches for a step, swinging his arms back and forth. "You want to give my crutches a go?" Your eyebrows shot up, a smile building upon your face. Memories flooded your mind, deep knowledge of the struggle that nearly always comes with those first steps and even far beyond. Loosening the grip you had upon your aids, you handed them off to Kili as you took Oin's hand and allowed him to help walk and lower you onto a makeshift camp seat. Hooking his arms in, Kili stood up, adjusting his posture after several moments. He took a step, then swung them. "Wait, that doesn't make sense. Hold on." You giggled from your seat at Oin's side as Kili raised one leg, thought, brought the crutches down again and wobbled such that you were tempted to extend hands that could catch him.
Bilbo
“I was scared first, but trust me: you’ll be grateful in the end once you get on these fellows,” Bilbo told you, looking down at you as he patted the pony he sat upon. “It isn’t that,” you answered, gaze dropping from the hobbit’s, “It’s…well, it is a bit embarrassing, to be honest.” The dwarves had been sweet enough to fortify the feet of your forearm crutches, though they still could not understand why you didn’t ride. The answer, quite frankly, rose a bit of a flush to your cheeks. Bilbo must have caught this. “You shouldn’t be ashamed. Nothing of it is your fault. You can tell me. Probably better me than all those dwarves, right? I won’t tell a soul.” His voice dropped to a playful whisper for that last sentence, which though it didn’t help the heat radiating beneath your skin did open your heart and your mouth. “If I were to get lightheaded or a shock of pain riding a pony I could fall off. And...And I would need someone to hold onto me.” “Ah,” the hobbit replied, this time taking his turn to shyly gaze away, “Well, if you ever change your mind, I would be more than happy to hold you.”
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Casually Cruel in the Name of Being Honest
Suddenly, she’s 6 again. And 16. And desperate for her mother’s attention as she stood on the other side of her desk in her office. She can’t help but wonder when she’ll learn that things will never change. When that last bit of hope that her relationship with her mother could be different will eventually die out.
Five times Emily doesn't yell at Elizabeth, and one time she does.
-x-
Hi friends,
It's been a little while since I got all up in Emily's mommy issues, so here are are.
Like all these 5+1 fics do this got away from me.
As always, please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Warnings: pregnancy
Words: 7.5k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
One
“Last chance to back out.”
Aaron looks at his girlfriend as they step into the hotel lobby, and his heart aches at the look on her face, the barely contained tension he can see in the set of her jaw. The tightness of it spreads down her neck and across her shoulders, her posture so stiff and rigid he’s surprised her collarbone doesn’t crack with the pressure of it. He reaches for her hand and links their fingers together, his smile soft and full of love as he raises their joint hands to kiss her knuckles.
“I have met your mom before, sweetheart,” he says in an attempt to calm her down, something he knows he’s failed at when she sighs, the sound drawn from the depths of her soul, pushing past years of repression and pain over the relationship with her mother that had never been what she’d wanted.
“Not as my boyfriend, Aaron,” she replies, huffing as he tugs her out of the way of the flow of people walking into the hotel, all dressed up like they were. A lobby full of tuxedos, beautiful dresses, and faces she vaguely recognises all here to take part in the charity event her mother was hosting, “She’s…” she swallows thickly, “She’s hard work and full of opinions. Especially when it comes to my life. I don’t want her to…”
He frowns as she drifts off, her eyes shining, the lights from the high ceilings reflecting in them. He squeezes her hand again and uses his other to cup her chin, encouraging her to look at him. He makes sure he’s firm but kind as he speaks, not wanting her to doubt him or his feelings for her in any way.
“There is nothing your mother could do or say that would make me change my mind about being with you, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek, her reprimand about her lipstick when he tried to kiss her properly in the car still floating around in his mind, “Nothing.”
She chokes on a laugh, “I don’t know how to feel about the fact you can already read my mind 6 months into our relationship.” She squeezes his hand, makes sure to press everything she won’t say here into his skin, her love for him, the way she treasured him, something she considered to be just for them.
He leans in to kiss her cheek again, “You say that like you can’t read mine.”
She hums, “One of the downsides of dating a profiler I guess. Or an upside. Depending on how you look at it.” she smiles, unable to stop herself, the corners of her lips turning upwards despite how she’d felt just moments ago, “We should go in.”
He nods and lets go of her hand, offering her his arm instead, and he smiles when she hooks hers through it and wraps her other hand around his tricep, desperate to be as close as possible. “I’ll be by your side the whole time.”
“You’re so getting lucky when we get home later.”
They manage to dodge her mother at first. It’s a dance Emily had learnt at a young age, her mother’s patterns and habits ones she’d learnt as a defence mechanism. It would never last all evening, because her mother knew her just as well, but it often lasted long enough to have a couple of glasses of champagne. The tension in her chest and shoulders loosened by the bubbles as well as Aaron’s touch, his hand a constant reassurance on her back as he kept his promise to not leave her side.
Emily blows out a breath when she spots her mother walking towards them, a man Emily knew to be the son of one of her fellow ambassadors in tow, “Incoming.”
Aaron doesn’t have a chance to respond before Elizabeth is next to them, leaning in to kiss Emily on each of her cheeks, the same greeting he’d watched her give everyone she’d spoken to that evening.
“Emily,” she says, smiling as she steps back, “It’s lovely to see you,” she looks at Aaron, “Agent Hotchner, lovely to see you too,” she turns to look at the man next to her, “Emily I’m sure you remember Anthony, Ambassador Collin’s son,” she waits for Emily to nod, “Anthony, this is my daughter Emily and her boss, Agent Hotchner.”
She knows it’s purposeful. That her mother’s use of Agent Hotchner instead of his name is an attempt to make him feel small, to try and implement some kind of hierarchy that only she cared about. Emily also knew it was no coincidence that she’d walked over with Anthony, a man she had tried to set Emily up with close to 20 years ago. A man she knew had recently, very publicly, got divorced.
“Aaron,” she corrects, her smile sweet, the fake one Aaron had watched her use with unsubs and police officers who got a little too close for comfort, “His name is Aaron, and he’s also my boyfriend.”
The flash of annoyance across her mother’s face is something she enjoys more than she should, but she keeps her smile fixed in place, desperate to maintain the polite niceness that they had always existed in. She’d learnt a long time ago it was best to not bite at anything her mother dangled in front of her, that Elizabeth would always end up turning it on her. So instead she played the game her mother had invented, the pieces of it were ones she’d learnt to use when she was young.
“Nice to meet you,” Anthony says to Aaron, offering his hand out, his smile a kind of smug Emily hates, “You’re an Agent?”
“At the FBI,” Aaron answers, reaching out to shake his hand. He squeezes tighter than necessary, something Emily can see in the way Anthony’s eyes briefly flash when his knuckles knock together, but his smile never shifts. It’s proof she didn’t know she needed that he could slot into this part of her life easily, “What is it you do?”
Anthony clears his throat as he pulls his hand away, subtly shaking it to relieve the ache as it falls back to his side, “I’m currently…in between positions.”
Aaron hums, an edge of sympathy to it that Emily knows is fake, and she has to press her lips together to stop herself from smiling, “Well,” she says, looking at her mother, her eyes fierce as they meet briefly, “We were about to go dance, right honey?”
He nods and reaches for her hand, his touch soft as he links their fingers together, “Yes, we were,” he replies, “Lovely to see you again Ambassador Prentiss.”
By the time they make it to the dance floor, Emily is furious, her anger simmering under her skin as Aaron pulls her closer, his arm banding around her back, “She is unbelievable,” she grumbles, her breath skipping across Aaron’s cheek, “Trying to set me up with that guy right in front of you.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he assures her, squeezing her hand to encourage her to look at him, “It’s not your fault,” he leans in to kiss her, his lips catching hers, “Do you want me to say something to her?”
She shakes her head, “No, it’s…it’s just easier to not say anything,” she says, “I learnt that a long time ago.”
“Do you want to leave?”
She sighs sadly, “It’s easier to stay too,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, “You held your own though,” she says, smiling as she pulls back, “It’s almost like you were born for this.”
He smiles, “I was born to be with you,” he replies, and it has the reaction he’d hoped for. A surprised laugh pulled from her chest that is followed by her rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
She kisses him, not a quick thing this time but a kiss that leaves her having to wipe her lipstick from his lips afterwards, her touch and the way she looks at him tender, their future swimming in the depths of them. “I think I was born to be with you too.”
___
Two
She hums contentedly as she rests her head against Aaron’s shoulder, her smile impossibly wider when he turns his head to kiss her forehead.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He mumbles against her skin and she nods, tilting her head upwards to capture her fiance’s lips in a kiss, her hand on his cheek as she ignores the playful jeers from some of their friends.
“I’m more than okay,” she says, kissing him again, “This has been…” she shakes her head at herself as she drifts off, looking around the room, their nearest and dearest spread out at all the other tables around them, empty plates and half-empty glasses around them, “It’s been more fun than I thought it would be.”
The party had been Penelope’s idea at first. Her delight at their engagement immediately shifting her into party planning mode, her eyes wide and full of excitement as all of Emily and Aaron’s attempts at saying they didn’t need a party were ignored. In the end, they’d relented, both of them more excited than they’d admit at the idea of celebrating their love for each other as much as they could. Elizabeth had largely overtaken everything the moment she found out, seemingly almost more excited at the idea of an engagement party than she was at the engagement itself.
“Your mother and Garcia should open a party planning business,” he says dryly, tasting her laugh as he stamps a kiss against hers.
“Don’t give them any ideas,” she quips, looking over at her mother, “Not before the wedding anyway.”
She’d decided not to argue with any of the plans about the engagement party, largely just happy to be told by her mom and Penelope where to go and when to go there. She was saving her strength to keep the wedding itself as she wanted it to be, absolutely insistent that it would be much simpler than this had been. That the only guests would be people she cared about, not a room full of her mother’s friends and colleagues like this had turned into.
“Good point,” he mumbles, his lips against her temple as their attention is pulled away from each other by the sound of a piece of cutlery gently tapping against a glass. They look over to find Elizabeth standing up, her glass of champagne in hand as the room falls into silence.
Emily muffles a groan against Aaron’s shoulder, “Here we go,” she grumbles so only he can hear her. He places his hand on her thigh and squeezes. She links their fingers together, reaches for her wine, “$50 she makes a comment about my age.”
He doesn’t have time to respond before Elizabeth starts her speech, so he simply squeezes Emily’s thigh again, putting as much love into the touch as he can. He’d promised a long time that he wouldn’t get involved in her relationship with her mother, that he’d leave it to her, but it was hard at times. Almost impossible to keep himself in check as he watched Elizabeth chip away at Emily’s self-confidence, her fingers pressed against buttons she’d sewed on herself when her daughter was young.
“I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for coming,” Elizabeth says, “I lost hope years ago that I’d ever get to throw an engagement party for Emily,-”
“In the first sentence,” Emily mumbles to Aaron, her words drowned out by polite laughter, before she takes a large gulp of her wine, “Easiest $50 I’ve ever made.”
“- Despite all of that, I am so pleased that Emily has found someone who makes her happy,” Elizabeth carries on, a rare flash of genuine sincerity in her eyes as Emily looks up, “So, let’s raise a glass to Emily and Aaron.”
“To Emily and Aaron.”
They both smile as they raise their glasses too, and the room falls back into the loud chatter that had been there all evening.
“To us,” Aaron says, his smile soft when she looks at him, and she clinks her glass against his.
“To us,” she replies, her tone lacklustre as she takes a sip of her wine before she sets the glass down.
Aaron turns slightly so his knees knock against her leg, “Sweetheart-”
“It’s okay,” she says, cutting off his attempt to comfort her, not wanting anyone to be witness to it, his gentle love for her one of the few things that could make her fall apart, “It’s not like she was ever going to do a gushing, loving speech about me,” she shrugs, “It’s what I expected.”
“That doesn’t make it right, Em.”
She nods, her lips pressed together as she cups his cheek, “I know,” she says, smiling tightly before she stamps her lips against his, “Later.”
He tightens his hold on her leg but relents, knowing she won’t talk about it until they are alone, their house a sanctuary for both of them, “Later.”
She smiles gratefully and rests her cheek briefly against his shoulder before she sits up, “You’d better be good for that $50,” she says, easily slipping into the role she had to play here in a way that makes him ache, “I know where you live after all.”
He chuckles and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I’m good for it,” he says, winking at her, “I’m about to marry rich.”
She scoffs, the laugh that pushes past it genuine, her smile wide and sparkling as she lightly slaps his chest, “Aaron.”
___
Three
She turns so she’s briefly side on to the mirror, her heart swelling in her chest at her reflection as she turns head on again, her hands smoothing down the white satin, “I love this one.”
“It’s a little simple, don’t you think.”
Emily closes her eyes and blows out a breath to centre herself before she turns to face the plush couch behind her. Penelope, JJ, Elizabeth and Jack were all lined up looking at her, looks of delight on all of their faces except her mother’s who was looking at her with a critical eye she hadn’t seen since they bought her dress for her confirmation.
It was a simple dress. Or as simple as a wedding dress could be. The neckline was scooped across her collarbone, ensuring that the scar on her chest was covered, not wanting Ian to have any involvement in this, and the dress was well fitted around her bust and waist, falling into a simple slip silhouette from there. The back of the dress was low, two straps that were an inch thick that came to just above her waist, and there were a series of small buttons that trailed down just past her lower back. It was beautiful and simple and it felt like it symbolised her and Aaron’s love for each other because of that.
“You’ve said that about every dress I’ve tried on,” she scrunches her nose up a little and sees her mother raise her eyebrows. Elizabeth doesn’t have to say anything for Emily to know what she’s thinking, oh you do look like your father when you do that, so she stops, exhaling slowly as she looks at herself in the mirror.
“That’s because every dress you’ve tried on is simple.”
“I think it’s nice,” JJ says, ever the person to try and mediate, “It suits you.”
Penelope nods and dabs at her eyes with a bright pink handkerchief, “You look beautiful.”
She smiles at her friends, their love for her, for her family, something she doesn’t think she could live without. Their friendship the very thing she once thought she’d never have, female companionship she’d somehow lived without in the 37 years before she’d met them.
“Thank you,” she says before she turns to her mother, “I like that it’s simple, I don’t think I’m a ruffles and taffeta kind of bride,” she says, stepping off the small platform in front of the mirror as she looks down at herself, smiling when she hears JJ and Penelope stifle a laugh. “I’m getting married in Dave’s backyard, I don’t exactly need a gown”
Elizabeth hums, “Yes, we all know where you’re getting married, Emily.”
She smiles, her jaw tight as she clears her throat, pushing away the instinct to argue with her mother. She’d made her distaste for Emily and Aaron’s wedding plans clear from the start. An almost constant barrage of passive aggressive comments about its simplicity, as if that was a dirty word, whenever the wedding was mentioned. Emily hated it, hated that she didn’t have a relationship with her mother where this was something they could bond over.
Most of all, she hated that she still expected anything different to what they had, that she consistently expected more from a woman who had never been what she’d wanted.
“I think you look really pretty, Emmy.”
Emily smiles at Jack and she walks over to him. She leans down and kisses the top of his head, trailing her fingers through his hair as she pulls back, “Thanks, sweet boy. Do you think Daddy will like it?”
“He’ll love it,” Jack says innocently, unaware of the slight tension around him that all of the adults were ignoring, “He always says you’re pretty in everything.”
She blushes at that and looks over Jack’s head at her mother, the tight smile that was always reserved for her painted across her face, “That settles it then. I’m getting this one.”
Penelope makes her pose with a sign from the bridal shop with ‘I said yes to the dress’ printed on the front of it. Emily pulls Jack into the picture, his smile as wide as hers, and she texts it to Aaron as they all head out for a celebratory dinner. By the time they get home, she’s exhausted in just about every way possible. She slumps down onto the couch and covers her face with her hands, the cool press of her engagement ring against her cheek a comfort to her weary soul.
“Are you okay sweetheart?”
She groans as she pulls her hands off her face and looks up at Aaron, “I’m tired.”
He smiles at her and joins her on the couch, his arm around her shoulders as he encourages her to lean on him, “Jack just said the same thing,” he kisses her forehead, “I think if I went upstairs in about 10 minutes I’d find him and Sergio curled up asleep on his bed,” he smiles as she chuckles against him, “He also said that, and I quote ‘Miss Lizzie was being mean to Emmy.’”
She sighs and pulls back to look at him, “I’m sorry, I should have protected him from it a little better. She was driving me crazy all day. She had an issue with every dress I tried on,” she smiles sadly and shrugs, “She didn’t like the one I chose in the end.”
“You don’t have to apologise for anything, Em,” he says, running his hand up and down her arm, “Do you like the dress?”
She nods, her lips pressed together as she tries to contain her smile, the same feeling she’d had when she saw herself in the dress for the first time blooming in her chest, “I love it.”
“Then that is all that matters,” he assures her, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling when she scrunches it up, “You look cute when you do that.”
She furrows her brow, “Do what?”
“Scrunch your nose up when I kiss it,” he does it again for good measure, his smile wide when it happens by reflex, “It’s cute.”
He was always doing that. Unknowingly undoing the damage her mother had done over the years. Her comments and criticisms so vast she could never tell him about them all. It warms her from the inside out. Makes it hard to breathe as she gets overwhelmed by it all, unsure what she’d done to deserve the love of a man like him.
“You’re cute,” she replies, kissing his cheek and then the corner of his mouth, smiling when he hums in response.
“You can’t tell anyone else, I’ve got a reputation as a hardass to uphold.”
She smiles and nods, happy to keep this version of him as hers. His softness for her and Jack something she wanted to protect, precious and rare and a privilege to see.
“Your secret is safe with me.”
___
Four
She sings along with the music as she dances with her new husband, her cheek skimming against Aaron’s as they sway back and forth.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks, turning his head so his lips catch the corner of hers, his hand on her back - half on her bare skin and half on the soft material of her dress.
“I’m more than okay,” she says as she leans in, her nose skimming his as she makes sure she’s quiet, keen to make sure none of the people watching them hear her, “I think this might be one of the best days of my life.”
He beams at her, his dimples carved out in his cheeks as he pulls her closer, “I know it’s one of the best days of mine.”
It had been everything she’d wanted it to be. Simple and intimate. Just the people that they cared about around them as they said their vows and made promises to each other she knew they’d keep, both of their voices shaking as they saw forever in each other's eyes.
She kisses him as the music comes to an end, her hands on his cheeks to hold him in place when she hears a playful jeer from Derek and some applause from the small crowd. She pulls back just barely enough to speak, “I love you so fucking much.”
Aaron chuckles and stamps his lips against hers, “I love you too,” he kisses her again, “So fucking much,” he looks up at Dave calling his name, the older man beckoning him over to the temporary bar set up in his back yard, “Apparently I’m needed at the bar.”
She hums and looks over her shoulder at their friend before she turns back to Aaron, “Don’t drink too much,” she murmurs, running her hands down his chest to play with his tie, tugging lightly at the pure silk, “I have plans for you later that won’t work out if you drink too much of Dave’s expensive scotch.”
He smiles and squeezes her waist with both hands, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “You’ve been my wife a matter of hours and you’re already in charge.”
“Oh honey,” she says, tapping his cheek lovingly, “I’ve been in charge a long long time.”
He captures her hand and kisses her knuckles before he walks away, his fingers only slipping past hers when he’s too far away to hold her hand anymore, neither one of them wanting to be apart for long.
Emily sighs contentedly as she walks back towards the head table, seeking out her glass of champagne and a brief moment of solitude, the emotions of the day making her as overwhelmed as she was happy. She’s barely sat down before she smells her mother’s perfume. A mix of Chanel and judgement in the air signals her arrival before she can sit down next to her, a calling card Emily used to avoid wherever possible in the hallways of their home.
“Hello Emily,” she says as she joins her, “How are you doing?”
Her mother’s tone doesn’t pass her by, the way she asks it makes it sound like they were just passing the time of day, not that it was her only child’s wedding day.
“I’m good, Mom,” she replies, smiling when she looks over at Aaron and Dave at the bar, Jack just a few feet away from them as he dances with Will, “More than good. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” She looks at Elizabeth, “Today was…perfect.”
Elizabeth hums, “It was certainly…simpler than what I’d imagined for you when you were a little girl, but I guess it makes sense because you’re not exactly a blushing bride, and Aaron’s been married before. I’m glad you had a nice day.”
Emily presses her lips together and takes a calming breath. She’d promised herself, and Aaron, that she wouldn’t let her mother taint this, that she’d enjoy every second no matter what Elizabeth said. She’d kept that promise, let her mother’s comments about her dress, the food, the venue, all pass her by. Her enjoyment of the day, of the celebration of her love for Aaron and the future they were promising each other far more important than her mother’s attempts to get under her skin.
“Well,” she says, taking a sip of her champagne, “Given that I’m the bride that’s the aim.”
Elizabeth sighs, “Really, Emily, you do like to pick at everything I say. I was trying to say I’m glad you had fun.”
It’s a backhanded compliment and she knows it, as well as an attempt to place all of the blame for their fractured relationship on her shoulders, but she still doesn’t bite. Doesn’t want to trip and fall into an argument with her mother, knowing it wasn’t worth it on even a normal day. That she’d never truly win an argument she’d been born to lose.
“Thank you,” she replies, smiling sweetly as she finishes her champagne, “I’m going to go find my husband.” They both know it’s an excuse, Aaron had never left her line of sight, but Elizabeth doesn’t say anything, she simply nods and lets Emily go.
When she makes it to the bar Aaron wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her into his side, “I was just about to come rescue you.”
She cups his chin and holds him in place to kiss him, “You’re the best husband ever.”
He smiles and kisses her, and it makes her shiver. He steps back to shrug off his jacket and he places it around her shoulders, his voice low so only she hears him as he whispers against her ear, “You okay?”
She nods and looks back at him over her shoulder, “I’m perfect.”
His smile turns into a grin and he winks at her, “You’re finally coming round to my way of thinking, I’ve been telling you you’re perfect since our first date.”
___
Five
Having dinner at their house had been Aaron’s idea, his smile soft as he said it would make her feel more comfortable than going to her mother’s. She was nervous, anxiety thrumming under her skin over telling her mother their news, her stomach twisting with something other than the morning sickness that had been plaguing her for weeks.
They’d been trying since just before they got married, both of them aware that if they wanted a baby or two their time was starting to run out. Emily had started to lose hope, each negative pregnancy test hollowing out a little bit more of her chest each month. When she finally found herself staring at a positive test, two pink lines bright and unmistakable as they stared up at her, it took a moment for it to register. She hadn’t realised she was crying until Aaron stepped into the bathroom, ready to comfort her as per the routine they’d fallen into. It was only when she’d made him look at the test, too overwhelmed to say it outloud herself, that he realised they were tears of joy.
She was 16 weeks along now and her mother was the last person they had to tell. Jack was excited to be a big brother, his immediate demand for a little sister something that had made both Emily and Aaron laugh. The team had been delighted for them, as had Jessica when they told her, a glint in her eyes as she told Aaron that Haley would be happy for him. A part of Emily that she was never quite able to control hoped her mother would be happy for them too, that she’d break the habit of a lifetime and only have good things to say.
Dinner itself had been fine. Aaron cooked a meal that Emily could still stomach, a lot of her favourite foods apparently not favourites of the baby. After they finished eating, polite conversation floating in the air around them along with the smell of the chocolate dessert in the oven, Emily knows she can’t put it off any longer.
“Mom, we have something to tell you,” she says, her smile fading when her mother barely reacts, her gaze fixed on her cell phone in her hands. She’d been checking it on and off all night, seemingly too busy to be able to put her work aside for even one evening with her daughter, “Mom,” she repeats, an all too familiar feeling of disappointment washing over her, “Can you put your phone down for just a few minutes? I’m trying to talk to you.”
Elizabeth hums, still not looking up from the screen of her phone, typing furiously as she responds to whatever email she was replying to, “Emily, my job is important - you know that - and I can focus on two things at once.”
Suddenly, she’s 6 again. And 16. And desperate for her mother’s attention as she stood on the other side of her desk in her office. She can’t help but wonder when she’ll learn that things will never change. When that last bit of hope that her relationship with her mother could be different will eventually die out. Aaron links his hand through hers under the dining room table and it brings her back to herself, reminds her that she’s married now, that she’s sat in her home and that Jack is asleep upstairs. It doesn’t make the pain caused by her mother’s indifference go away, but it dulls it. Makes it bearable because she isn’t alone any more and she never will be again. She blows out a breath as she places her other hand on her mostly still flat stomach, the bump only really noticeable to her and Aaron when they looked for it.
“I’m pregnant,” she says, her hand tight around Aaron’s as she watches her mother carefully. She waits a few seconds for a response, for any kind of indication that she’d heard her, and she blows out a slow breath before she tries again, “Mom, did you hear me? I said-”
“Yes, you’re pregnant,” she says, cutting her off, finally looking over the top of her phone at Emily, “Did you really think I didn’t notice the moment I arrived? You’re not drinking wine and you look…healthier than when I last saw you.”
“You can’t-”
She cuts off Aaron’s attempt to defend her with nothing but a squeeze of his hand, her blunt nails briefly digging into the gaps between his fingers. She clenches her teeth, her jaw so tight she’s surprised it doesn’t fracture, and she swallows thickly to push down everything she doesn’t have the energy to say, “Is that all you’ve got to say?”
Elizabeth raises an eyebrow at her, “Do you want me to say something else?”
She mumbles under her breath, “Most people start with congratulations.”
“What was that, Emily?”
“Nothing,” she replies as she stands up, the scrape of her chair against the hardwood floor echoing throughout the room, “I said I’ll go check on dessert.”
She’s in the kitchen for all of a few seconds before Aaron is with her, his jaw set in a firm line as he barely hides his irritation, “Em-”
“Honey, can we not do this,” she says, casting a glance at him as she gets the dessert out of the oven, her entire body tense as she places it down on the counter, “I don’t need you to tell me I deserve better, or that she shouldn’t speak to me that way. Because I know that okay?” Despite her irritation, despite the sadness turning over in her gut, she keeps her voice low, not wanting her mother to overhear or to wake up Jack, “I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. But it’s how it is and nothing is going to change that,” she turns to get some bowls out of the cabinet, sure if she looked at him too long she’d fall apart despite what she’s saying, “I really can’t deal with this right now. We just…can we just see it through until she goes home? Please?”
It takes everything in him to nod in agreement. To not go into the dining room and tell his mother-in-law exactly what he thought of her, and that she wasn’t welcome in his home until she treated his wife with the respect she deserved. It goes against all of his instincts, his desire to protect her, even though she’d spent all her life protecting himself, so habitual to him it felt like breathing. He knows this is what she wants though, that he has to follow her lead when it comes to her mother and her relationship with her, so he steps forward, his hand skirting her lower back as he slips past her to grab the serving spoon.
“I’ll serve dessert, sweetheart,” he says, smiling softly at her, “Why don’t you go have a minute or two alone? I think I saw Sergio in the living room. I’m sure he’ll appreciate some attention.”
She sighs gratefully, resting her head against his shoulder as he wraps one arm around her, allowing herself a brief moment of comfort before she pulls away, a taster of what she’d get to have later when her mother was gone, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her forehead as she steps past him and disappears from view. He blows out a frustrated breath the moment he’s alone, irritation aimed at Elizabether burning in his veins, and then hears his wife clear her throat from the doorway, “Yes baby?”
“Can I have the end piece please?”
He smiles and nods, “You’re having my baby - you can have the end piece for the rest of our lives.
She smiles at him, the ache in her cheeks caused by him at odds with the churning caused in her gut by her mother, “Correct answer.”
___
+ One
Emily rocks herself back and forth on the porch swing, her cheek pressed against the top of her daughter’s head as she hums, letting Ivy feel the vibrations of her chest as she eases her back to sleep. She looks up sharply at a loud laugh, smiling when she sees Jack pushing Hazel on the swing set, the three-year-old always at her happiest when she is the centre of her brother’s attention.
Ivy gristles against her, rubbing her face against Emily’s collarbone, and she looks down to soothe her, her lips against the top of her head as she rubs a hand up and down her back, “You’re okay, sweet girl,” she kisses her head again, “One day, far too soon for my liking, you’ll be out there playing with them too.”
The 6-week-old grunts as if in response and Emily chuckles, the sound drowned out by the door leading out from the kitchen to the porch. She smiles at her husband as he pops his head around the door, his lips pressed together.
“Your mother’s car just pulled up.”
She nods, grateful for the warning, and he steps back into the house to let her mother in. Elizabeth had been away on assignment and had only been back in the US for a couple of days, so this was the first time she’d be meeting Ivy.
“Are you ready to meet grandma, Ivy?” She asks, smiling down at the sleeping newborn, “Don’t worry if she looks angry, that’s just her face.”
She waits as she hears muffled conversation get louder as Aaron and her mother walk through the house and her breath catches in her chest when the door opens again, a type of anxiety only her mother could draw out of her filling her lungs.
Despite her initial disappointing reaction to finding out Emily was pregnant with Hazel, Elizabeth had been an excellent grandmother. She doted on the little girl and Jack, buying them extravagant gifts from wherever she went in the world, always ignoring Emily’s subtle attempts at trying to say it was too much. She’d love Ivy too, Emily knew that, but she also knew her limit for her mother’s comments, well meaning or not, ended with her children. She could accept whatever her mother wanted to say about her, but never them. They would grow up free of the shackles of expectation that she’d never quite been fully held down by, and the halls of their home were full of love and affection, not disappointment and conversations that didn’t mean anything.
“Oh look at her,” Elizabeth says as she joins them on the swing, peering down at the baby fast asleep against Emily’s chest, “She’s precious.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Emily says, “Do you want to hold her? I just fed her so she’ll be settled for a while.”
Elizabeth subtly shakes her head, “I’m happy to just look, this suit is Chanel, I can’t risk any baby related projectiles.”
Emily casts a glance at Aaron, who was not so subtly glaring at the back of Elizabeth’s head, but any conversation is cut off as Jack and Hazel run up to the porch, both delighted to see their grandmother. Aaron eventually takes Ivy from Emily to put her down in her bassinet, and as Jack and Hazel tire of listening to the adults talk and run back into the backyard, Emily finds herself alone with her mother.
“Aaron said you had to have a c-section?”
She nods at her mother, ignoring the ache in her arms now her baby is no longer in them, instead focusing on Jack and Hazel running around the backyard, “Yes,” she replies, “Ivy was being a little stubborn and my labour stalled. It was the safest thing for both of us.”
It hadn’t been what she’d wanted. Her memories of her labour with Hazel were fond ones, the pain of it blurry now, the only sharp memories the ones of being handed her daughter for the first time, that first press of her skin against hers. Her labour with Ivy had become very scary very quickly, and she still felt like she’d been robbed of some of the joy of what she knew was her last baby’s birth.
“They used to call it the easy way out back in my day.”
Emily scoffs, the sound escaping before she can stop it, “As someone who’s done it both ways, I can assure you there is no such thing as the easy way out, Mother.”
Hazel laughs loudly from the swing set, drawing their attention towards her as she tries to run up the slide attached to it, the multicoloured tutu she’d insisted on wearing and her stripy tights, her feet bare other than them after she’d won the battle over shoes that morning, hindering her ever so slightly. Emily is about to call out to tell her to be careful when Jack beats her to it, his hands on his little sister’s back as he guides her upwards, his smile shy as he looks over at Emily.
“She really is wild,” Elizabeth says, as if she’d only vocalised half a thought, “You’re going to have to get her under control at some point.”
She can feel her control fraying, the edges of it giving way as she swallows thickly, desperate to make sure she doesn’t snap, “She’s three. And she’s acting like a three-year-old. I see nothing that needs controlling.”
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, “Oh please Emily, if you don’t tamper all of that down soon she’s going to end up just like you.”
Snap.
“And what’s wrong with that, Mom?” She asks, not able to keep it in, her anger breaking free of where she’d kept it locked away all these years, “What would be so awful about my little girl being just like me?”
“Emily, you’re over-”
“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting,” she says, standing up and throwing a glance at the kids, forcing a smile when Jack looks at her with concern pressed into his eyes. She calms down for a moment, never wanting him to think she was angry with him, “Look after your sister for me, we’ll just be inside.”
“Yes, Mom,” he replies with a nod and Emily walks in, grateful that she doesn’t have to explain to her mother that she expects her to follow her. The moment they are inside she turns to look at Elizabeth, the confusion painted across her face doing nothing to calm her down.
“I think you misunderstood me, Emily,” she says, her hands folded in front of her, “I was simply saying-”
“That if I don’t teach my little girl, my fucking three-year-old, to be quieter, to make herself smaller, that she’ll have the misfortune of turning into me,” she scoffs, shaking her head as tears fill her eyes, still at the mercy of her hormones and a lack of sleep, “Which, apparently is a fate so awful you feel the need to mention it.”
She hears Aaron’s footsteps behind her as he joins them, feels his palm on her lower back, “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”
Before she can say anything, before she can do anything other than look up at him through shining eyes, her mother cuts over her.
“Aaron, please speak to your wife - she’s being ridiculous.”
Aaron wraps his arm around Emily’s waist, his grip firm and reassuring as a disbelieving sob catches in her chest, “I think it’s best you leave, Elizabeth.”
In any other circumstance, Emily is sure she’d find the look of shock that passes over her mother’s face funny, but it simply makes her angrier, the fact that she didn’t get it, and likely never would, more painful than she could admit even to herself.
“Excuse me?”
“You need to leave,” he says, squeezing Emily’s hip one more time before he steps away to lead Elizabeth towards the front door, “I won’t have you come here and upset her. Not when I’ve already let so much slide in the past.”
Elizabeth scoffs, “She’s my daughter-”
“And she’s my wife,” he says, opening the front door, “You should go.”
Elizabeth sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly, “I didn’t mean to cause any upset.”
“I think that’s the problem,” he says, standing so he’s blocking her view of Emily as she steps outside, “You never mean to, but you always manage to anyway.”
He closes the door and gives himself a moment to breathe through his anger, his grip on the door handle tight as he lets it pass. Emily didn’t need his anger, she needed his love - and that was something he had in abundance.
When he walks back into the kitchen, she’s still standing in the same spot, the sleeves of his sweater she’s wearing pulled down over her fists, visible wet streaks on them that he knows are her tears, her face also covered in them.
“So,” she chokes out, her smile shaking as she forces it, “How long have you wanted to throw my mother out?”
They both know what she’s doing, that it’s easier for her to try and use humour to get past this, the world unsteady beneath her feet after she’d said some things she thought she’d never say.
“Longer than I care to admit,” he says as he walks towards her, tugging her gently into his embrace, something she willingly sinks into. He kisses the top of her head and runs his hands up and down her back.
“How much did you hear?” She asks, her question muffled against his t-shirt.
“Enough to know it was something about Haze,” he says, smiling as he encourages her to look up at him, “I always knew if you were to snap at her it would be about the kids,” he wipes a tear from her cheek, “You never would if it was just about you.”
She hums, leaning into his palm as he cups her cheek, “I’m not sure what good it would have done. She’s never been one to self-reflect.”
“When you’re ready to talk to her about it,” he says, smiling when she kisses his palm, “I’ll be right there with you. And I’ll throw her out again if I need to.”
She smiles, the corners of her lips twitching upwards as she gives him a quick peek of her dimples, “My hero.”
He shakes his head, “No sweetheart,” he says, pulling her back against his chest, “You’ve always been your own hero. Just think of me as your live in bouncer.”
She laughs, loud and beautiful, and she shakes her head at him, “My very sexy live in bouncer.”
He stamps his lips against hers, “It’s the role of a lifetime.”
#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotchniss fanfic#hotchniss fan fic#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#emily prentiss fanfiction#hotchniss fanfiction#aaron x emily#hotchniss
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3.89 Lose control
During our conversation about pre-wedding activities, Sophia and I found the idea of having a party appealing, but we had reservations about the traditional bachelor and bachelorette party. I'd never been to one, but I'd heard stories about them. Getting wasted and dancing with other women didn't appeal to me at all. My party didn't have to follow that formula; we could spend the night however I wanted. But the real reason we were anxious was because we both we both had a small circle of friends. We loved kicking it with our respective squads, but a party with just one or two sims wouldn't be lit.
"What if we did a joint co-ed party?" she offered.
That was the most brilliant idea, and it relieved us both. I mean, the whole point of a bachelor/bachelorette party was just to hang out with friends and have a good time, right? Who's to say we couldn't do that together? Our friends and their plus ones were enough sims for a fun, intimate party.
We tried to take Mama's advice and not show up early this time and walked in with the first wave. Heh, if Sophia had agreed to my offer earlier, we could have been super late, but let's not dwell on that. While getting a drink, I saw Alessia. I was low-key pissed, to be honest. Not enough to make a scene or even snub her all night, but we were definitely not okay.
Dub snuck up on me, and I almost dropped my drink.
"This is a nice place," he said. "The food selection is...interesting."
"Yeah. I guess I should have been more specific when I requested light refreshments."
"It's all good. Nothing like a little natural sugar to get you pumped up!"
"That's right. I expect to see everyone dancing, Dubstep."
"Dubstep??"
"Yeah! I think it's about time I gave you a nickname."
"But Dubstep though? I can't stand that music! It's everywhere at home!"
"Sorry, dude. I'm not often this clever. It's sticking!"
"Ugh! You better be glad your name can only be shortened, or I'd come up with something annoying for you too!"
"HA! Thank you, granddad I never met, for a boring name."
"Oh, hi Dub," Sophia said. "Thanks for coming!"
"Of course I'd come. I gotta make sure my boy Luc stays out of trouble!"
Sophia laughed.
"That's kind of you, but totally unnecessary."
I loved she said that. We had several conversations about my female friends, and she always expressed her acceptance of them. I believed her, but part of me wondered if she was actually cool with it or just trying to avoid conflict. Those conversations triggered her sometimes, and I knew she was still dealing with scars her ex-trash man inflicted. I never gave her a reason to doubt me, and I intended to keep it that way. Even so, her display of trust touched me deeply.
Less and Justin were chilling in the corner, probably relieved that I was busy. Did they keep in touch? Probably not. Regardless, I was happy they maintained a small connection, even though I still believed he was much too old for her. Once Rashidah and her husband showed up, Sophia hit the dance floor and got the party going. I sat down and watched her, mesmerized by the thought that tomorrow she would be my wife.
Chi Chi latched onto Maia as soon as she arrived and did not let her go. When Dub noticed, he not-so-casually got closer and watched their every move. I don't know why I thought it was funny, but I laughed anyway. Seeing him transition through this relationship, going from uncertainty about pursuing it to worrying about someone encroaching on them, was fun to watch. I knew Chi Chi was harmless, but he didn't, so I didn't laugh too hard. Still, what was Maia thinking? She was so gracious to endure all that talking for two nights straight. I knew all too well how draining it could be, trying to keep up with all the words that flew out of her mouth.
I eventually finished my drink and got out there to shake it with everyone. Poor Dub didn't even take one step and spent the whole night watching Maia and Chi Chi. I made a mental note to talk to him about it before we left, so it didn't become a big deal later on.
The fruity drinks were lame, so I invited everyone to the bar downstairs and bought us a round. The thumping bass from the DJ downstairs reverberated through the walls, injecting a surge of energy into our group. Moving the party downstairs was a genius move. The room was buzzing with excitement. Lively conversations and laughter filled the air. In the midst of all the excitement, I spotted Less trying to slip away, but I quickly caught her eye and called her out.
"Where were you last night?"
"What?"
"The engagement dinner? You didn't show."
She shrugged.
"I didn't want to go."
I needed a moment before replying, because her response struck a nerve. Her indifference was no stranger to me; I'd been dealing with it my whole life. It annoyed me then, and triple annoyed me now. I usually coped with it by ignoring her, but this was something I could not shrug off.
"You couldn't at least call and tell me you weren't coming?"
"I guess. Why are you so upset? You had the dinner and now this party. They're pretty much the same thing, so why do I have to come to both?"
I was teetering on the edge of losing my cool, and it caught me off guard. Despite all the challenges I faced in my life, I could never truly feel angry. I could've been mad at Dad taking us away from Mama, but I was just a little kid and more scared than anything. I couldn't bring myself to be angry with Mama for breaking up our family because my love for her was too strong. Less always got on my nerves, and I could've been mad at her countless times, but I felt pressured to always be in control as the oldest, especially since she always copied me. I just wanted to experience losing control for once, but was that the moment to waste my chance? In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that serious. Less was just being Less, and as much as it pained me to overlook it again, I just took a few deep breaths and re-centered myself before responding.
"You're my sim of honor, Less. Does that even mean anything to you? We were doing toasts, and you weren't there. Dub did a toast for me, and we just met. Maybe I should have asked him or Maira to be my sim of honor."
"I'm sorry, Luca! I thought it was just a casual dinner or something. I didn't think you'd be mad."
I sighed and shook my head at her.
"You never do, Less."
Speaking of Dub, I saw him stewing on the sidelines, so I let Less go and went to de-escalate him.
"Am I crazy?" he asked as I sat down. "Is she really that bold that she would try to take my girl in front of my face?"
I was glad to have something comical to take my mind off my annoying sister.
"She's harmless, man. A bit of a flirt, yes, and she talks a lot, but she would never do that to you. She's sweet."
"Brooo! The talking! I thought maybe she liked me too because she had me hemmed up all night last night. I barely escaped in time to make a toast!"
I laughed.
"Believe me...I am aware. I feel like she has a word quota she has to reach every day or she'll explode or something."
"Yeah, and she's spending it all on us!"
"Seriously... But for real...I really appreciate you doing that last night. My sister should have been the one making that toast, but she wasn't there, and that really hurt my feelings."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I got you, bro. Whatever you need."
"I appreciate that, Dubstep."
"HEY!"
Dub and Maia by @mysimsloveaffair
#ISBI challenge#sims 4 story#sims 4 gameplay#adolting#adolting gen 3#wade banks#maia tilley#luca winston murillo#alessia amina murillo#sophia aguilar#xochitl luna#banks collab
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Have you ever been over something, and then years later, someone, out of the blue, brings it up and it really just knocks the wind out of you?
Okay, so this is about high school. I’m nearly 40, so that’s multiple lifetimes ago, right?
I’m pretty sure that I’ve posted about this here at least once, but I can’t find the post to link to it
Here’s the deal
In high school I wasn’t …. hmm …. Idk exactly how to describe it. I played sports (track, football, swimming), but I wasn’t POPULAR popular, right? But I also wasn’t NOT popular
My high school (in Florida) hadn’t been desegregated for very long, and there weren’t a LOT of Black students but there was enough of us so that we felt as comfortable as you possibly could given the circumstances
But I was like a universal joint: I played well with others and I fit in well with almost everyone, and if you don’t include some of the overtly racist teachers, I had almost no enemies (don’t get me wrong, I definitely had my share of fights with school bullies, but after you win enough of those, they kinda stop trying you)
Anyway,
I cannot even tell you why, but for some reason in senior year I decided to run for president of the student class
Wild, right?
So after all of the preliminary votes, it narrowed down to two people (I was more surprised than anyone that I actually made it that far - I guess bc I never really expected to win, maybe running for student class president was kinda like a high school bucket list thing for me?)
Anyway, my final opponent was a white guy named Bill. I knew Bill because in high school somewhere along the way, it was impressed on me that I should participate in as many non-athletic extracurricular activities as possible, to make me a better rounded person, and I was in the SUPER FUCKING RACIST Interact Club with Bill. How racist was Interact, you ask? Well, you had to “apply” for membership to Interact. When I applied, I had no idea what it was. I just knew that my student counselor had suggested it to me, and why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(my graduating class was 2,500 students large, so it wasn’t as big as some of the schools I had attended up north, but it was “big” for Florida)
A teacher was responsible for actually running Interact, but the students really RAN it, know what I mean? Even though I had been working since I was 10yrs old, my Interact Club interview was probably my first real interview. It was kind of a big deal. Like, you had to schedule it and dress up for it and everything. And if you got accepted, your name got put up on a placard, prominently located on one of the main halls of our school
My first interview question, from the teacher in charge of the “club,” was: “Can you take racist jokes against Black people without getting angry?”
WTF??
To say the least, I was 100% completely caught off guard—I knew what racism was, and I definitely knew that it was present in my school, because I’d experienced it firsthand from other students and teachers, but for some reason I wasn’t expecting it to happen at Interact Club. Silly me
I suddenly became acutely aware that I was the only Black person in a room full of white people: the teacher/advisor, about 10 students who were already members of Interact, and mf Bill. Because OF COURSE Bill was already in Interact, and he was just grinning from ear to ear as I sat there in front of the classroom in this fucking “interview” from hell
BUT…! Anyone who knows me knows that one of my core personality traits is, if I get hit—no matter how hard—I always always always hit back. After a moment or two, my response was: “Yeah, can YOU take racist jokes about crackers?”
NGL, I’m not known for my quick wit, or always having the deftest or best clapbacks, but I surprised myself. I really patted myself on the back for that one
Nobody said a word for what seemed like an eternity. It was enough time that I still remember wondering if I might get detention or suspended or something
Finally, the teacher just said, “Okay. You’re in” and he got up, and quietly left the room. Leaving me alone with Bill and 10 not very amused white boys. Bill wasn’t grinning anymore
One or two of the guys got up (I was fully ready to fight, and I was cocky enough to believe that I could take them all down), but they just shook my hand, congratulated me and then they all left the room too
I would later learn that I was the first Black student in my county to get (“accepted”) into the Interact Club. This motif of, “first Black person to…” would follow me around in a lot of aspects in life, until my late 20s
Now, fast forward to the day before Election Day for student body president. It was my very first time giving a public speech. To a crowded auditorium full of my classmates. It was a little bit nerve wracking, but once I got into it, it was easy peasy. Enough so that I actually remember relaxing on stage and even ad libbing a few jokes into my speech. All in all, it wasn’t a bad experience. In fact, I kinda enjoyed it
Lmao, I made a shit ton of promises that I had no idea how I would keep, like getting the school to play music from the local Black radio station in the cafeteria during lunch—and the auditorium exploded in cheers and applause with this impromptu commitment of mine. Like I said, it was a good experience
Bill gave his speech, but I remember it being flat, bland and boring (kinda like Bill) and there was a smattering of claps here and there, and I distinctly recall thinking, “Is Bill really bombing here?” It surprised me because I was like, he had home field advantage, right? I mean, I could count on the Black students to vote for me, but collectively we didn’t account for more than about 15% of my student body class. We had to be bussed in. Bill shoulda been killing it. He had home field advantage, right??
The day after our speeches, was voting day. The principal told Bill and I that we would each be given the results in person before last period, and then the winner would be announced via intercom at the end of the school day. The principal made it clear that the loser would be expected to gracefully accept the outcome and shake hands with the winner. He was looking directly at me as he said this, but it didn’t bother me that much because I never really expected to win. I was outnumbered, but I was proud of myself for making it this far. And everyone who I passed in the hallways was telling me, “Don’t worry, O, I voted for you. You got this in the bag.” A surprising number of white kids were saying this to me. The football team, cheerleaders,… like … a lot of white kids. Hmm… interesting
Weirdly, the closer that me winning seemed like a real possibility, the more I wanted it. But there was no fucking way that I was going to actually win
In the middle of that day, announcement day, I was called to the principal’s office via the p.a. system. I was shaking walking down to the office
I made my way into the office and the school secretary smiled at me and told me to go to another room down the hall where “they” were all waiting for me
And now I’M SUPER NERVOUS
I get to the closed door of the room, take a deep breath, gather my nerves, open the door and go in
And the ONLY people in that room are Bill and that fucking Interact Club teacher, and a few members of the Interact Club. Bill is wearing this giant smirk on his face, and the teacher is smiling. “You lost,” the teacher bluntly told me. “Now shake hands with Bill”
And I start to shake hands, because all of the wind is rapidly leaving my sails, and I’m literally deflating in front of everyone, but just before my hand meets with Bill’s hand, I pause and ask, “How much did I lose by?”
This wasn’t me trying to buy time or anything, I genuinely wanted to know. I was just curious. The teacher looked like this question caught him off guard, and he looked back at two of the students, and then they looked at each other, and they whispered to each other, and then one of them raised one finger, and the Interact teacher said, “You lost by one vote”
Somehow, that was even worse than losing by a hundred votes
And Idk where this presence of mind came from, but I asked if I could get a recount (losing by one vote wasn’t sitting right with me)
The Interact teacher said he didn’t think that was allowed, but he must have seen the look on my face (I was definitely going to go ask the principal) and he gave me a disapproving sigh and said, “Okay, we’ll do the recount. Come back in an hour.”
And I was like, “WHO will do the recount?” and he gestures to the Interact Club members and himself
Oh. Okay.
I just walked out without saying anything. Bill and his friends and the racist teacher were in charge of the vote counting. Great. Fine. Whatever
Needless to say, when the “recount” was done, I still “lost” but this time, I was told that I lost by 2 votes
So yeah, it wasn’t thee worst thing to ever happen to me, but it left a really bad taste in my mouth, ya know? After it was announced to the entire school, everyone was coming up to me for days afterwards telling me that they voted for me and they couldn’t believe that I didn’t win
I always believed that I had won, but it was high school. Whatchagonnado? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
It wasn’t a life defining moment or anything, it was just something that happened, but it’s not lost on me that I still recall everything as if it happened last week
But I did let it go and I moved on
It’s something that I haven’t thought about literally in years. Decades, in fact
Until recently
I was out running one morning and a guy was going in the opposite direction and he kinda stared at me as I went around him. And then he yells, “Hey, is your name Odin?” and I stop and go back and tell him yes, and we start talking, and it turns out that he went to my high school. I completely do not remember him, but whatever. It’s always kinda nice to see old faces from old places
So after a few minutes we do the obligatory, “hey let’s exchange phone numbers and keep in touch” thing, but even though I gave him my phone number, I had absolutely no intention of ever contacting him. I’m busy. I got shit to do
Maybe a month later, I get a phone call and it’s the dude who I bumped into who knew me from high school. So in real time, it’s last week
We’re talking and I’m ready to hang up after about 30 seconds, but I don’t want to be rude so I let him keep talking and waited for the right moment to jump in and throw in an excuse to end the call
He’s going on and on and says, “I know you didn’t recognize me that day, but I was trying to talk to you and tell you something, but you seemed like you were in a rush…” and I’m thinking to myself, yeah, much like right now, and for some reason I get unusually blunt (in social settings I’m normally more patient and accommodating, but something felt off, and I really was busy)
Then he says, “I need to tell you something, but I …”
Long silence
Look, man, whatever it is just say it
“Thanks, I just never thought I’d … I want to get it off my … (long sigh)”
Just say it
“You won that election back in high school. I was one of the people counting the votes. You won. You won by a lot. We gave it to Bill”
……
#and i havent stopped thinking about it since last week#it feels like i *just now* lost something physically#a post about me#im not surprised but still#i feel silly for letting this bug me still
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TBB S3 E9 Reaction
- Oh boy. I am not liking that opening shot that makes Pabu look like Tantiss 😭😭
- It’s so cloudy and dark—it must be the fall season going into winter
- Wrecker AND Crosshair making lady friends…I see what you’re doing there Jen
- “Does it matter? We’re not handing her over.” The 👏🏻 character 👏🏻 growth 👏🏻
- “Can’t be prepared if we don’t know what we’re dealing with” Hunter is fully back in sergeant mode
- Also this is the first time we’ve seen Crosshair without his outer pauldrons on!! Now he can’t stab someone’s eye out if he stands next to them 😆
- I love how Omega says Batcher
- Oh yeah Omega go walk into the scary cave that Batcher is afraid to go into. And walk up to a strange ship that you don’t recognize 😅
- I do honestly wish Ventress’ character reveal had been kept a secret and wasn’t in the trailer. This moment would hit so much harder. But it’s very good to see her finally show up.
- Love the subtle nod to how Hunter seems to hear Batcher first, and Crosshair sees her first, showcasing their different skill sets and how well they work in tandem.
- Wow Ventress looks so good!! The hair! The outfit! Her in this animation style!
- Lol of course she already knows everything about them.
- Why does Crosshair keep suspiciously leaving a space between him and Hunter where a certain bespectacled Batch member is supposed to be standing 🥺
- “We never gave her our coordinates” 😬😬😬
- Love how serious but also calm and curious Ventress is. You can already see how much more at peace with herself she is compared to TCW (I have not read Dark Disciple but I am aware of the basics of her arc in it).
- “It’s for a friend…you’re saying I’m a Jedi!?!” Baby girl, don’t you know that Nala Se basically engineered you all to be TERRIBLE liars 🤣🤣😅 absolutely no one ever was going to believe those words coming out of your mouth, not with that adorable face
- Loving the lore drops that Ventress is giving here. Using the word midichlorians, tying force sensitivity and blood count to TPM and Ahsoka and the OT. Acknowledging that training is what makes you a Jedi, not your m-count. That the Force connects all living things. Bringing up the age old fandom question of whether clones could be force sensitive.
- “There’s your intel” turns around to leave
- “No one’s been able to give me answers” and we’re not going to leave this episode with any either 😅
- Omega isn’t usually this impatient, so I wonder if her focus is easier to hold when she’s focused on people and creatures rather than tasks that she can’t connect to what she’s trying to accomplish.
- “You must be a Jedi, right??” Immediately shuts her up with a hand to the mouth 🤣🤣
- Tech mention by Cross 😭😭😭
- How can she hear them? Force usage? Or do Dathomirians have sensitive hearing?
- Poor Omega. I wonder too if she’s a little intimidated by Ventress and that’s also impacting her ability to pull off this test.
- “Well? What happened?” A good teaching method, that she wants Omega to explain why she’s having trouble rather than immediately telling her “oh you failed” and helping her up 😄 TCW Ventress would never
- “The sun’s already started setting” nooo I don’t need that parallel
- They’ve made some really interesting shots with framing through the caves this episode
- Yeah girl work smarter, not harder
- Aaand the name of this boy band is? 💀 (serving c—— everything, that’s what 🫠😅) Hunter my boy that hip pop should be illegal
- Ventress has not lost ANY of her sass though
- THIS FIGHT. THE MUSIC. THE MOVES. THE LIGHT. AGAIN EVERYTHING IS ON THE TABLE AND WE ARE BEING SERVED
- Idk if we’ve ever seen Crosshair@/ agility like this
- Girl is fighting dirty
- I also love her going mostly for all of their weak points and joints that allow her to take them down while barely moving a finger herself
- Ahsoka 🤝 Ventress - some of the strongest force users in the galaxy who can take down an entire group of highly trained combatants with just martial arts moves, flexibility, and sheer nerve. No force usage needed. 🔥
- That knife throw 👀 🥵
- “We’re not big on following orders” THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN AHHHHHHHH
- Literally I could look at this scene all day. (They’ve never been more beautiful) 🔥🔥🔥🔥
- Poor Omega has no idea what she’s about to walk into
- *jaw drop* y’all every time I check I’m pretty much certain that I’m straight but….but…dodging those blaster bolts and just casually pulling out a yellow lightsaber like that? Respect.
- Lmao it’s so much worse than I expected 🤣 Jennifer I didn’t know that TV’s below TV-MA rating ever anticipated Hunter flat on his back with his knees spread like that…I just…I think you broke some rating scales there 🫠🫠🫠🫠 I love to see you fulfilling all of our fantasies in one fell swoop (I think I uh, need to go take care of some things, I’ll uh, I’ll be right back 👀)
- Lol kidding. Anyways….
- “What, stop!!!” You tell ‘em kid
- “Times have changed. Something you clones should be familiar with” yeah Hunter, what have you been up to the last two years??
- “We are not the same”. “No? We were pawns in the same war. And we ALL lost.” SAY IT LOUDER FOR THOSE IN THE BACK. girl just literally summed up the entirety of the saga.
- “I’m many things. But I’m not your enemy” character 👏🏻 growth 👏🏻 again 👏🏻
- Hunter, I love you, but your prejudice is showing. Interesting how he’s never had a problem with separatists in general before, and had to convince Echo to help rescue Senator Singh in episode one. Sometimes his distrustful nature really gets the better of him
- “We were just getting warmed up” uhuhhhh sure Wrecker
- “You’re being naive” I never gave up on you, did I?” Crosshair. Honey. Is it really just now hitting you full in the face just how much Omega has believed in you? And look at how far you’ve been able to come. His expressions just pierce my soul 🥺
- I kind of really love the seaport vibes and the neutral lighting here. I can just see Omega as a fisherman’s daughter or running off to be a pirate in another life
- Lol Ventress isn’t used to being around someone as optimistic as Omega
- “You did” lol
- I do find it interesting that almost no force user ever explains what reaching out “feels like” when trying to teach other people about it. You would think they could come up with a better description so that people can grasp it more easily. Unless their goal is that you can’t unless you have perseverance and/or capability
- “This is different than being a soldier” so much to unpack there.
- “Why should I listen to you” years of hardship and trial and experience and loss and growth and change
- Ooooh pretty creatures
- “I’m not the one holding back” 👀
- Ooooh scary (pretty) creature
- “Not intentionally” 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I love her vocal inflection here. “No omega I was just trying to teach you a lesson not accidentally kill you” 💀I wonder which one of them actually summoned it
- *furiously screenshotting the Marauder while we still have it*
- So we’re really gonna get everyone with wet hair except Hunter, huh?
- Crosshair 🤝 Ventress rescuing Omega from drowning in the ocean
- Don’t make the angry tentacle crab angrier!
- The animated movement on Omega’s hair is amazing
- Ahsoka 🤝 Ventress reaching out with the force and calming a wild beast
- Welp. This is probably one of the most powerful instances of a force user connecting with a creature to calm it/communicate with it that we’ve ever gotten
- And what it says about Ventress’ inner calm and serenity and confidence and authority that she’s gained since TCW and Dark Disciple—I’m so proud of her 🥹🥹🥹
- What a beautiful creature
- THEY HELD HANDS 2.0
- Crosshair is just becoming the consummate gentleman and I am HERE for it 🥹🥹🥹
- Crosshair 🤝 Ventress - literally 😏
- Okay in all seriousness I’m not truly shipping them but I love seeing everyone have fun with their ship names
- “But I’m…already a target”. Baby girl still needs answers. She sounds so sad and confused
- Look at Wrecker’s emotional intelligence saving the day
- I love how this show uses little nods between people to show understanding. More of that in real life please.
- “You’re lying” “about which part?” The two of them would have a blast sassing each other that’s for sure.
- Interesting that her take is that omega would have to be trained, when decades later Ahsoka’s response to Grogu is that he shouldn’t be trained at all and should let his powers die out due to attachment.
- LEAVE PABU BOYS. She’s not warning, she’s telling. Ya know, not like it’s the title of the episode or anything
- “You’re not worried about the empire coming after you?” Love how even after all that and all his distrust, Hunter is still capable of caring about her well-being
- “I’ve got a few lives left” can’t wait to see when and why Ventress shows up next
#the bad batch#tbb#star wars#tbb spoilers#the bad batch spoilers#asajj ventress#Ventress#tbb ventress#the bad batch season 3#tbb season 3#the harbinger
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SSR Sebek Zivgolt Dorm Uniform Personal Story: Part 3
"There is no time to whine!!!!"
(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3
[Coliseum – Field]
― The next day, Joint Protection Magic Class, 4th Session
Sebek: It is almost time for our team to present.
Sebek: Are you ready, humans?
Classmate A/B: Yeah…
Sebek: I CAN'T HEAR YOU, HUMAN!!
Classmate A: Who cares about how loud my voice is…? It's not like anything'll change because of how much I shout or anything.
Classmate B: Man, I don't feel like I can pass this assignment if I gotta work with Sebek.
Sebek: You lack the will to win. If you are as you are, there is no way you would be able to win even the easiest battles.
Sebek: You do remember the magic you have been tasked with performing, yes?
Classmate A: I have water, this guy has fire. We're all using magic we're good at, right? Obviously, we can remember that much.
Classmate A: …But dude, was it really okay for us to choose the magic we get to use first?
Classmate B: If we have to have three types of magic, that means you have to use something else.
Classmate B: Kinda means you won't really have the freedom to choose whatever magic you want…
Sebek: No matter. I practice an extensive array of magic every single day!
Sebek: And I am aware that it would be difficult to overcome any weakness in one night.
Sebek: In order to achieve a passing grade, we should take advantage of whatever strengths you already possess.
Classmate A: I-I see…
Classmate B: See, he sounds inspiring, but I know exactly what he's trying to say…
Sebek: Now… WE BEGIN!
Classmate A: Go, water, envelop the doll and stop its movement!
Classmate A: Urgh… It's moving faster than I expected, so my music can't hit it at all!
Classmate B: Mine neither. I can't even get close!
Sebek: That doll is much quicker than I had expected. It also moves akin to a person… This exercise is really invigorating.
Classmate A/B: …
Sebek: Hey, you two, what are you standing around for? We go again! Do not stop until you've hit the target!
Classmate B: But… We don't have much time left, isn't it gonna be impossible for us to clear it?
Classmate A: I knew it, this dysfunctional team wasn't gonna be good enough…
Sebek: SILENCE!! THERE IS NO TIME TO WHINE!!!!
Classmate B: Ack!? You scared me…
Classmate A: You're so loud, man!
Sebek: Humph. You were both showing your loss of conviction, so I was merely shooing it away.
Sebek: No matter how impossible the objective may seem, as long as you never give up, there will always be a means to succeed.
Sebek: To give up only after a few tries like this is absolutely pathetic.
Sebek: Is this the extent of your determination? Do you not have any pride on your name as a student of Night Raven College?
Sebek: IF YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE IN YOURSELF, THEN WHO WILL!?
Classmate A: Sebek… You…
Sebek: I absolutely, definitely must pass this task for the sake of the Young Master, someone who is very, very important to me…
Sebek: Which means that, in the end, the two of you also have the great fortune of acting on behalf of Malleus-sama as well.
Sebek: I CARE NOT IF YOU GIVE UP OR PASS OUT, DO SO AFTER WE SUCCEED IN THIS ENDEAVOR! DO IT FOR MALLEUS-SAMA!
Classmate A: SEBEK, SERIOUSLY!?!
Classmate B: WAS ALL THOSE WORDS JUST FOR YOU AND DRACONIA-SENPAI, HUH!?!
Sebek: Humph. Looks like you've gotten your spirit back.
Classmate B: Huh? Oh, you're right… When I shouted like that, I felt a little bit of energy coursing through me.
Classmate A: There's no way I can let this end with Sebek looking down on me like that… Yeah, I'll do it! Let's go!!
Ace: Wow, Sebek's team suddenly got their second wind. Was that their strategy all along?
Deuce: Yeah, but they're just haphazardly throwing spells around, they're not hitting the doll at all. I wonder what they're gonna do now.
Ace: Who knows, maybe they're just gonna brute force it?
Ace: Well… No matter what kind of magic Sebek uses now, I don't think they'll get anywhere if they're just gonna attack with reckless abandon.
Sebek: …Alright, the team's morale has increased. That is the most important aspect in a real fight.
Sebek: I cannot allow this opportunity to pass. I need to make the decisive strike now…
Sebek: …There!
Sebek: Hey, human! Send your fire magic to that puddle over there!
Classmate A: That puddle…? Oh you mean the one from the attack I missed earlier?
Classmate B: Man, I'm starting to get used to Sebek's commands… Fine, I just gotta do it, right? Hah!!
Ace: Woah, that's a ton of steam! It's gotten so white, I can't see a thing in front of me…!
Sebek: Right, here is my chance!
Sebek: If it is a precise copy of how a person would act, then if it were to be robbed of its senses the same as any real person, then it shouldn't be able to move.
Sebek: This was a fascinating exercise, but…
Sebek: It was rather fortuitous for me that this was not a mere target, but rather a humanoid one.
Sebek: If this were a test that focused only on one's magical strength, it may have been rather difficult, but… I am more than capable of any kind of training towards people!
Sebek: I will have you perish here, all for Malleus-sama!
Sebek: TAKE THIS!!!
Ace: Dude, Sebek's magic just hit it directly… And the doll broke! Wait, was he just waiting for his chance the whole time?
Deuce: Isn't Sebek the first one to actually break the target with a single hit? That's amazing…!
Sebek: …I will now read the critique the professor gave our team.
Classmate A/B: Gulp…
Sebek: "…Despite the initial slow magical attacks, and the many issues with actual control of your magic, the indominable spirit you all showed in the second half to come back full force was impressive."
Sebek: "Taking into account that the team each used one of three different types of magic and destroyed the target, as assigned…"
Sebek: "You all pass."
Classmate A/B: H-HOORAY!!!
Sebek: But it wasn't a perfect score, hm… There is still much room to grow, myself included.
Classmate A: You're just gonna mutter to yourself while we're trying to celebrate? Man, you really need to learn how to read the room.
Classmate A: But hey… Honestly, hearing you say that kinda put me in a good mood. In a good and a bad way, I guess.
Classmate A: Thanks.
Classmate B: Yeah. I think I might understand why you're always shouting all the time, too.
Sebek: …I see. I will say that the two of you did a good job this time, as well.
Sebek: You showed me what spirit you actually have. Not bad for humans.
Classmate A: Heheh, it actually feels kinda weird when Sebek's being open like this…
Sebek: Although, if it had just been myself, I would have been able to do such a simple task in half the time it took us this time.
Classmate B: Haaah!? Weren't you just saying that we all worked hard together to get that passing grade!?
Sebek: Huh? I never said such a thing. Your hard work, and my ability are two separate things.
Sebek: This time, I simply complied to the tasked assigned to me. I would have been able to do it by my lonesome, without any help from you humans!!
Classmate A: I think I regret thanking you…
Classmate B: I take back everything good I just thought about you! Sebek, you really gotta do something about that attitude of yours!
[Courtyard]
―After school, same day
Sebek: Young Master, today I alone will be escorting you.
Sebek: I AM AT YOUR SERVICE!
Malleus: Right.
Malleus: …Ah, I heard that you passed your assignment in the joint protection magic class today.
Sebek: Eh!? H-How did you come to know of that, sir?
Malleus: I met with Lilia and Silver on the way here. I heard from the both of them.
Malleus: You've grown well, Sebek.
Sebek: M-Malleus-sama…!
Sebek: …Far from it. This assignment was a mere trifle.
Sebek: As long as it is for you, Malleus-sama… No matter where life may take us, everything I, Sebek, do is for you!
(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3
#twisted wonderland#twst#sebek zigvolt#ace trappola#deuce spade#malleus draconia#twst sebek#twst ace#twst deuce#twst malleus#twst translation#mention: silver#mention: lilia
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Hej guys
Welcome to my blog!
I’m Julia, 18 years old, and currently volunteering in Denmark. It feels strange to write those words down. I’m a volunteer. Just a few months ago, I was still in my home country, thinking Denmark was far away. But time flies, doesn’t it? And now I’m already three months into my stay—three months of great experiences, meeting wonderful people, and learning about Danish culture.
Let’s start simple:
Where do I live?
So far, I’m staying with a host family near Aarhus. Christoph and Karen, who have two very adorable daughters, Alma and Ida. I had never been abroad for such a long time before, so staying with a host family was a completely new experience for me. First of all, I didn’t know them until a week before I came to Denmark. That made me nervous about what it would be like. Would we get along? How should I behave around my host family? What would they expect of me? I had a lot of questions! But I’m glad to say it all turned out well in the end. We get along really well, which isn’t hard because they’re very nice people. The children are sweet and are able to communicate with me, even though I can’t speak Danish yet. Living with people I didn’t know before turned out to be surprisingly similar to my family life back home. I join them for dinner, sit in the living room reading, help with cooking, or spend time with the children. Being around them is much easier than I imagined. At first, it felt a bit awkward to sit in the living room or eat their food, but I’m getting used to it. I’m still adjusting to the food part tbh, but I’m lucky to get along with them so well. I imagine it might be harder if your host family is very different from your own, or if you’re not a family-oriented person and need more alone time. But I believe this depends on what kind of person you are—whether you’re more extroverted or introverted.
What do I do?
I work at a forest kindergarten near Aarhus. Every year, three volunteers work there so they are used to having volunteers. I really enjoy my work. From the very beginning, the staff were very welcoming and friendly. I work in the "wolf group," the Ulve, and accompany the children through their daily routine. In the morning, I help the children hang up their backpacks, and then I bring the lunchboxes with fruit and bread from the kitchen for our breakfast together. After breakfast, the children either play in the kindergarten or we go on excursions to the meadow at the hunting lodge or into the forest. Lunch is usually eaten during these outings, unless we stay in the kindergarten, in which case we eat on-site.
After the excursion, some children take a nap, for which we hang up hammocks. Around 12:30, I prepare the next meal: crispbread, smørrebrød, and cold cuts. The children can then choose whether they want cheese, sausage, or leverpostej on their bread.
In the afternoon, it’s time for the children to play again. I spend a lot of time with them, whether in the sandbox, playing tag, or simply listening when they want to show or tell me something. I’m still practicing and trying to learn Danish, but it’s enough for simple conversations, joint activities, or just listening to the children. In the beginning, it was very hard to interact with them. I didn’t know their names yet and couldn’t say anything except my own. Most of the simple phrases I use now are things I learned by listening to the Danish staff. I’m really looking forward to starting language school next Monday. Although I use Duolingo and hear Danish every day, I still need to learn how to express myself. Moreover, working with children can be exhausting. Sometimes, when I get home from work, I wonder why I’m so tired because it doesn’t seem like hard work at first. But it’s the mental load—the exhaustion from social interactions 24/7. On top of that, I’m listening to Danish all day and speak English, which can also tire me out subconsciously. But overall, I’m very happy with my workplace.
For example, I understand more now, but I still can’t reply properly. If I can respond, it’s not always exactly what I want to say because I don’t have the right words. If you asked me whether Danish is hard to understand, I’d say no. But if you asked me whether Danish is hard to read or pronounce, I’d definitely say yes. I feel like they leave out most of the letters in the words when they pronounce them, and the o’s can be really tricky to pronounce. Although I’m German, which is apparently helpful for learning Danish, I still struggle. I hope language school will help me because I really want to learn Danish.
Now, this was my very first entry. I’m going to write more soon, but for now, this is it. I plan to write one blog entry every week. If I have the time or something interesting to write about, I might post more entries per week.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)
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Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 8: Distrust The Future
As planned, we’ve kept our eyes out. It didn’t go unnoticed when Mallory proposed inserting nanobots in the bloodstreams of 00 agents. Once Q began production I kept a particularly close eye on it. Bond taught me that if an agent should ever need to disappear, they should be able to without question. After the incident with Silva I don’t have as deep of trust with MI6 anymore.
The good news is that Bond eventually did come back. He told me about burning his childhood home down, which seemed to help him let go. Last I know he decided to take a holiday in Mexico. He’s there, while I’m posing as a trophy wife in Hamburg, Germany. My mission was to extract information about a potential underground sex trafficking gang, and I was fortunate enough to get close to one of the head leaders to get what we needed to bust them. It was done, but not before I put a bullet between his eyes. Unfortunately my escape brought on an explosion that didn’t go unnoticed to M, who’s waiting for me outside the airport.
“Welcome back from another successful mission, 0011.”
I haven’t had time to change, so I’m still wearing heavy makeup and using a trenchcoat to cover up my red dress that is practically nothing.
“Not entirely. I had to kill the sleazy bloke.”
M huffs. “Well at least you’re not like Bond and go about destroying a whole building in Mexico.” I follow him to an MI6 SUV and we start driving. “You’ll be pleased to know that you’ve been given new quarters in our new security building.”
“New security building? What about the old one?” I ask as I stare at the passing buildings.
“That’s going to be knocked down. I reckon they’ll put a parking lot there or something else that’s worthless.” He points to a newer building built along the river. “The new Center for National Security will replace it.”
I frown. “It looks modern, twisty, and ugly.”
“Good to see you haven’t lost your sense of taste. C runs it, you’ll meet him soon.”
“Who’s he?”
“The Director-General of the new Joint Intelligence Service. He’s been pressuring us to join the global surveillance initiative Nine Eyes. It would allow surveillance and intelligence from 9 different countries to be monitored.”
Flashbacks of Silva hacking Q’s computer system trigger a sense of untrust with this new program. Who’s to say this C fellow is on the right side? I keep my mouth shut and we drive in silence to an empty parking lot next to the new security building.
“I’ll escort you downstairs. Q is waiting for you.”
My head perks up. “He’s here?”
“Has a new lab away from prying eyes,” M explains as we head down a set of concrete stairs. “Right this way.”
The whole place is a labyrinth. Endless hallways filled with so many twists. I’m beginning to wonder how Q’s going to stand being cooped up down here. M leads me to a large metal door and swipes a key. As it opens, I get a good look at the room that puts Q’s old lab to shame. It looks like a computer threw up in here. So much technology you’d think the whole room was a machine itself. No doubt Q’s been overworking himself with new inventions.
“I’ll leave you to Q. I’m going to wait for Bond.” M gives a nod and walks back to the hall.
I step further into the lab and spot the crazy-haired scientist himself working off in a corner.
“Oh my God you have your own evil science lair! This is wicked!”
My words startle Q from the gun he’s working on. He rolls his eyes and walks over with his arms crossed.
“It’s an official laboratory, and- what are you wearing?”
I’ve partially undone my coat, allowing my red dress to be displayed.
“Disgrace is what I’m wearing,” I groan. “If I have to hear another politician boast about himself I’m going to jump in the river! I feel like a complete Jezebel.”
Q squints. “Who?”
“Jezebel. She was an Old Testament queen who worshiped Baal. She’s famous for wearing makeup while she schemed and murdered her husband’s enemies. Even today her name is regarded as a vicious woman who is evil and scheming. I’m wearing so much makeup my face feels like a brick wall.”
Q nods. “I heard the mission went well.”
“I aim to please.” After spotting a water closet I hold up my duffle bag. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll slip into something more comfortable.”
Q goes back to working while I enter the water closet. In my bag I have a fresh pantsuit, kitten heels, and a washcloth. First I wash my face with scalding hot water in hopes to wipe out my humiliation. Now that I look like myself, I shed the seducing red dress and put on my pantsuit, the armor of a 00 agent. When I step out I feel like a new woman.
Q looks up, his expression unwavering. “There you are. Now that you’re yourself again I’d like to show you the latest tech. I will instruct Bond as well once he returns.”
Every model of guns, grenades, and knives is hung up or scattered throughout the room. A scientific arsenal of death. I’m led to a table that's displaying a silver bracelet.
“I see you still wear the tracking pendant I gave you?” Q points to the necklace around my neck.
Indeed, the blue pendant is still gleaming around my neck. “I call it my good luck charm.” That, and it’s a thoughtful gadget.
“Well, good news.” Q holds up the bracelet as if he’s a jeweler selling a bargain. “I made this to go with it. Each piece folds out to become razor-sharp shrapnel.” He points to the clasp. “Just snap the clasp and throw it.”
I hold out my hand and he clips it around my wrist with gentle hands. Though the longer Q touches me, the more stiff his hands become. Strange.
“It’s considerate that you’ve kept wearing the tracker,” Q hurries away to another room where a medical chair is set. “But as you know we’ve invented a more efficient way to track agents. One that C approves very much.”
“Yes, about that. Doesn’t unlimited access to security files raise a red flag? I would think you of all people would be cautious considering it was your system Silva hacked.”
The geek shows a look of conflict. “Yes. But we also have to trust the future. Nine Eyes may be the next big security technological breakthrough.” He shakes whatever internal struggle he’s fighting and walks towards the end of the lab.
“We shall continue with the smart blood once your old partner arrives. I think Bond will like what I have in store for him.”
“As impressive as your gadgets are, Bond’s not one for easy impressions.”
Q turns around with a mischievous smirk. “You’ll see.”
He presses a remote to activate a large metal garage door. First I see wheels, and now-
I gasp. “You didn’t…”
Q’s smile brightens the whole room. “I did.”
Now the entire car is in view. Elegant, silver, and powerful. It’s a shame Bond’s probably going to wreck it.
My mouth is still agape as I slowly catch up to where Q is standing. “It’s magnificent.”
He sighs, looking at the machine with strong pride. “I know. It’s an Aston Martin DB10. Zero to sixty in 3.2 seconds, bulletproof. I even added a few extra tricks. She was originally assigned for Bond, but was then reassigned to 009.”
My mind does a flip-flop. “So then what does Bond get?”
The Quartermaster digs in his pocket and pulls out a simple Rolex. “This.”
I stifle a laugh. “A watch? You expect Bond to be taken by a watch?”
“A tricked-up watch with an explosive,” Q replies as he shuts the door and we walk back to the front. “He should be grateful I’m still repairing his old car.” Q now clicks the remote again and another smaller door opens, revealing a sleek and gorgeous black motorcycle. “This is for you.”
My breath catches. I’ve always loved motorcycles, despite their dangerous circumstances. Sadly Bond always wrecks whatever motorcycles we’re given so I’ve never been assigned one. Until now.
“It’s my take on the current Brutus V9,” Q says proudly. “Still takes petrol and has a more old-fashioned look.” He gets a cheeky grin. “I thought you’d like that. Unlimited range, up to 200 miles per hour. Like the Aston Martin I also added some features such as guns in the taillights. There is also a storage compartment under the seat.”
He walks me through the ins and outs of the vehicle while I still stare at the gleaming motorcycle.
“You really outdid yourself, Quartermaster. I promise I will do everything I can to keep this beauty from getting a single scratch.”
Q laughs. “If Bond taught you how to drive, I have my doubts. Just be careful when you first try it out.”
I hum in response and go to take another look at the smart blood program. This isn’t like any other trackers I’ve dealt with. I had one in my arm once during my early days before 00 status, but that was different. You can remove a single tracker. It’s much harder, maybe even impossible, to remove something from your entire cardiovascular system. It seems so permanent.
Now I hear: “Ah, hello 007. Please excuse the mess.”
Bond? I turn away from the disturbing blood analysis and peek my head out to see my old mentor examining a very buff gun that looks like it has a good kick to it. However his curiosity is disrupted when Q takes away the gun.
“Shall we get started?”
Bond keeps silent and follows Q. When he sees me I give a nonchalant wave. “Greetings, Bond. How was Mexico?”
He chuckles dryly. “Rather exciting, actually.”
“Ah, yes. M told me all about it. Just casually walking atop a roof carrying a machine gun. Sounds like you, Bond.”
007 ignores my comment. “I hear you had quite a handful in Hamburg.”
I shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You should be glad you’re not like Bond,” Q states as he prepares what looks like a large needle. “007 mine as well be grounded right now.”
I huff. “Grounded? I didn’t think 00 agents could be grounded.” I snicker at Bond. “You must be a special case.”
Bond isn’t fazed. “Nothing that won’t blow over.”
Giving a deep sigh, I face the older agent with legitimate concern. “Face the music, Bond. All the rumors point that you might be fired. Call me sentimental but I really don’t want my favorite partner being kicked out.”
He must see how serious I am because Bond puts a hand on my shoulder with a look I can only describe as determination. “I won’t be, Levie. My end as a 00 agent will be something more than just being fired.” After a while his look fades to slight disappointment. “You care too much, Levie.”
A match has been struck near dying embers, threatening to spark. Bond knows that my emotions can get in the way. Unlike him I’ve never gone through seeing my parents killed or having extreme heartbreak. I guess he’s always so emotionless because Bond has no love left in him. But that doesn’t give him the right to belittle me for being human.
Thank God Q notices my predicament and ushers 007 to the medical chair.
“Step this way, please.” He wraps a strap around Bond’s arm. “Hold still, that’s it. You’re going to feel a slight-”
“Christ!” Bond flinches as the needle plunges in.
“-prick,” Q finishes, looking a bit alarmed.
“What is it?” Bond grunts.
“Cutting edge nanotechnology. Smart blood. It allows us to track your movements in the field. It can monitor your vital signs anywhere on the planet. A sort of post-Mexico insurance policy. By order of M.”
Another jab at Bond’s recklessness. Maybe now Q will lay off of me and heckle him instead.
After Bond gets up and walks away grumbling, I start to follow him when Q blocks my path.
“Alright, you’re next 0011.”
My face is as emotional as tap water. “I think I’ll pass.”
He frowns. “Pardon?”
“Excuse me for sounding too paranoid, but I’d rather not have mechanical bugs in my blood please.” I hold up the blue pendant. “I’ll stick to this. If M hates it then he can yell at me.”
I brush past the awestruck Q and go back to the table where the new guns are laid out. Why is Mallory being such a pushover to this new Nine Eyes project? I’m sure the old M would have told C to go to Hell if she was still alive. After I’ve inspected the new ammunition (very impressive), I spot Bond and Q walking back from the garage door.
“Seen the car, Bond?”
The amused look on his face says it all. “Oh yes.”
I point a warning finger. “You can look, but no touching. You can have your old car back soon.”
Q nods in agreement. “Precisely. Not that there was not much to work with, only a steering wheel. I believe I said “bring it back in one piece,” not bring back one piece.”
He goes into a short burst of laughter and I swear it’s the first time I’ve heard Q crack a joke. Bond and I exchange glances, typing to decide if we should be concerned.
I give the geek a half smile. “Are you trying to be funny?”
Q stops laughing and looks to the floor. “Depends. Is it working?”
I let out my own laugh. “It’s adorable how hard you try, Quartermaster.” I give him a pat on the shoulder. “Stick to being smart.”
Bond isn’t as amused so Q just shrugs. “Anyway, enjoy your down time, 007.”
The older agent has a look that tells me he’s up to something. “Levie, will you wait outside for a moment? We gentlemen need to have a chat.”
Oh boy. I roll my eyes. “Far be it from me to deprive you gentlemen from your testosterone-filled chats.” I mock-salute the two men. “Ciao.”
Sometimes keeping Bond and Q at bay is like handling Dobermans. Between Moneypenny and me it’s a miracle that they don’t kill each other.
#quartermaster x reader#quartermaster#q x reader#james bond#daniel craig#ben whishaw#skyfall#spectre#no time to die#007#james bond 007
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Nagisa Ran - Sub Story
Writer: Akira
Season: Autumn
(Setting: Outside the main gate)
Nagisa: (……
…… It’s been a long time, Yumenosaki Academy
…… It hasn’t changed at all. No- it seems livelier than when I was here last.
…… Everyone is smiling.
…… That’s good.
………)
……? You there, is there something you need?
…… Eh, Anzu-san? The producer, Anzu-san?
…… I wonder if you came to fetch me?
…… Wait.
…… (Reading from some kind of booklet)
…… Thank you for waiting. Umm~
“Good work coming to get me.”
“I am Shuuetsu Academy’s ruler, Adam’s own Ran Nagisa”
…… Pause.
“Every idol besides me will perish”
…… Ah, wait.
…… It said to look intimidating to my utmost ability. And to laugh loudly too, I suppose?
…… I’ll restart, sorry.
“Fuhahahaha! Every idol besides me will perish!”
“There is no path ahead of me, for my trail paves the path! I am the king of kings!”
“Kneel, you imbeciles! Before the brilliance of Ran Nagisa! Fuhahahaha!”
……… Nailed it. (Victory pose)
…… Ah, sorry. You must have been surprised. I’m in the process of building my character.
…… But I’m not used to it yet, I’m still practicing.
…… I withdrew from idol activities for a while.
…… Wandering around foreign countries on an introspective journey.
…… But in the process, I lost my “self” instead.
…… For a short time I even forgot how to speak Japanese.
…… But Hiyori-kun asked me, “Let’s do our best together again.”
…… That’s why I returned to this country.
…… Honestly, I wasn’t fond of doing so.
…… Both back then and now, the idol industry has always been brutal.
…… I don’t wish to fight others.
…… I wonder why we can’t all get along.
…… Why can’t we all love and watch over each other.
…… Even though we're family, all born onto the same planet.
…… I wonder, is it because we’re weak?
…… Ah, sorry. You don’t have to be concerned about that, Anzu-san.
…… Um. Could you show me to the student council room?
…… Yes, I thought I’d visit for a greeting before Autumn Live.
…… The venue seems to be our territory.
…… Maybe it’d be more conventional for them to greet us.
…… I’ve been absent from this country for a while.
…… So I wanted to see, feel, and grasp the current atmosphere of Yumenosaki.
…… I felt it’d only be proper that I should come by for a greeting since we’ll be borrowing those Yumenosaki children.
…… I wish to see Eichi-kun as well.
…… That one tends to be cunning. So I have to meet him face-to-face to decipher what he’s thinking.
…… Additionally, it’d be awkward to meet him only after everything’s ended.
…… So I think I should apologize in advance.
…… Trickstar, was it? The group we’re performing a joint live with.
…… I want to tell him, I’m sorry if I break those children.
………
…… What is it? Please, guide me to the student council room.
…… I used to attend Yumenosaki Academy as well, but I’ve forgotten almost everything to do with it.
…… If you don’t lead me there, I’ll get lost.
…… I get lost easily. Rather, I get entranced easily.
…… I wonder if I’m too empty. I lack many things.
…… I trust you’ll guide me properly.
…… Come, let’s go.
…… Umm.
…… Sorry, what was your name again?
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I never realised how hard it is to exist with plurality when our trauma isn't really defined as trauma.
TW:Death, mental health issues, physical issues, self harm, body dysphoria, suicide/suicidality, medical trauma.
So like, nan died when we were five, I don't have many childhood memories, but seb was the first to "exist" other than me. Then there's the bullying and masking of autism, ADHD, and the trauma of having a post alcoholic parent trying to be a parent again. All with the struggle of things a kid shouldn't have to deal with that mom didn't know how to keep away from us, such as money stuff and food issues. We lose marmalade, a beloved family cat. Then we lose Monty her daughter not long after. The memory of her being cradled in my brothers arms as she has a seizure from the stroke and falling down the stairs, forever imprinted on my mind. Skip to a few years later, it's gotten to the point where we don't know how many we are, because our mental health has already reached the point of passive suicidality and everything that goes with it. Age eleven, deciding whether or not to jump into traffic before school. We form a protector with no name, a shadow figure. He later becomes void. The trauma of not knowing if I'm autistic was way more present around that time. It got way worse and then of course, we didn't know that autism was something to consider, we just thought we were broken. Never mind the trans trauma of being plural and a traumatized child with trust issues, seeing people that aren't there and being terrified of losing my "friends in my head". The bullying gets really bad. We realise we're trans. We're in denial. We think "Oh what if we just come out as non-binary?" It doesn't go well. We are severely suicidal at age 13, finally diagnosed with autism and ADHD. Hospitalised multiple times from then on. Everything is blurry. There are times where I can recall the trauma timeline perfectly, but today is not one of them. This is all quite vague but I think the protectors are ok with that. I needed to get this off my chest. Many have come and gone. I still don't know everyone and everything about the system. I don't know if we'll ever be diagnosed as a system. For now, I just want my life to get easier. We are in constant physical pain. We have hypermobile joint spectrum disorder, recently confirmed. Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome is also suspected. We use a walking stick just to get around the house. We can't stand for more than five minutes. We're still masking our system from our family and friends. Mom thinks we have a dissociative disorder of some sort. The trauma is too complicated even for us, to explain to her how "broken" we feel. Being plural with trauma that is probably nowhere near what people would consider enough to form a system is exhausting. It feels invalidating. Like we shouldn't be this way because we weren't sexually abused or groomed or beaten or tortured or something. We have trauma, it should be enough. So this is me, getting this off my chest. I needed to vent. It hurts so goddamn much. I'm always fronting. I never switch out unless something major happens, like if seb triggers a switch for our safety or if Kai is triggered in due to talking about a memory I'm not supposed to know about to keep me safe. I'm always co-fronting with somebody. I barely know who I am, let alone the fact of being plural making it even harder. What I do know is that, my plurality has saved me. Even if I wish sometimes I wasn't plural. Even if sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I could remember all of the school trauma and the hospital trips and the self harming and the surgery from when I was a kid to fix my eye that I only sort of know about from void. I'm just tired. The body is always hurt or ill or in pain. We never get a break. We mask constantly. We can't even call ourselves we. It's I or me or single anything. We aren't diagnosed with anything system based or plural based. The only reason I have some knowledge of how our system might work is because of the helpful information from other sysblogs on here. Like the info about p-did and median systems and autism based system stuff. Hopefully, we'll get to a good place mentally. For now, we'll just have to take each day as it comes.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know it probably doesn't read very well or make much sense. I might redo our system intro at some point. Its kind of outdated now. I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
#autism based system#neurodivergent based system#system#trauma#actually adhd#partial did#grief#transgender#did osdd#plural system#sysblr
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