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#i knew Emotionally Charged Event was gonna happen in the next few days but i didnt know it was happening TODAY

elleonmybeloved · 4 years

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The weather on the day of the competition was perfect, nary a cloud in the sky and a warm fresh smelling breeze blew throughout the city of Mondstadt. Everybody was gathered around the archon statue, in front of which a raised wooden platform has been placed as a makeshift stage. The person in charge of the event is just a person who owns an instrument shop in the city, but the real weight behind regulating the event is the group of knights of Favonius that stand guard in the area and enforce safety as well as the rules of the proceedings. There’s no panel of judges. It’s the audience who chooses the winner by writing the name of the bard who gave their favorite performance and placing it inside a wooden box to be counted by the host.

“Ooh, Paimon can’t wait! When are they gonna start already?” Lumine’s floating companion gives an impatient wiggle. “Oh wait, look, here comes the host now!”

The host steps up on the stage, and after a minute the swelling chatter from the crowd dies down to a murmur.

“Greetings citizens of Mondstadt, and welcome to another battle of the bards! It is my pleasure to announce that we will be treated to fifteen performances today. Each contestant will be performing two songs, one preexisting song of their choice, and one of their own. After they have all given their performances, you, the audience, may cast your vote for whoever most greatly moved your heart with their music.” He gives a break for applause.

“May the anemo archon watch over us all! Let the contest begin!” The host steps down off the stage and the first bard takes his place.

One performance after another, the city fills with music. Some chose upbeat, joyous melodies, others slow and mellow ballads, and even some that take a jazzy tune and encourage clapping and dancing from the audience. Lumine is amused to witness what she guesses is a bard commissioned by Stanley to make a song about him and his famous adventures.

By the end of that song, she and the crowd have already memorized the repetitive words and are joining in to shout-sing the great adventurer’s name.

“Good for him, I guess.”

“Paimon thought this was supposed to be emotionally moving music! Geez.”

“They never specified which emotion.” Lumine points out, but before Paimon can quip back, a hush falls over the crowd again as the next bard comes up.

The lanky teen in bright teal that takes the stage is surely Venti, but his prescence feels so different from what she’s used to. Lumine swallows dryly. He’s the one on stage about to perform, so why is she the one feeling nervous all of a sudden?

Venti begins with the first song- Lion Heart, the one about Venessa, the great hero of Mondstadt. The melody flows like the wind but the sound grows and flares like a fire in a grand way that makes her feel as if she herself has been transported back in time and is standing in the middle of a raging war. His voice is strong and unwavering as he effortlessly tackles difficult notes, and his lyre sounds more like the herald of a trumpet than some little church house harp.

When it’s over, the audience whistles and calls out loudly with applause. The man next to her is exclaiming that he has “-Not heard that classic song so masterfully done in decades!” And Lumine has to agree with the sentiment. He could end it right now and still be the one to go home with the prize.

“Oh wooow, who knew the tone-deaf bard could do that! And to think, Paimon didn’t believe him when he said singing was the only thing he did well.”

“Yeah.” She says, squinting at the stage. Venti is setting down his lyre and is taking... something, up to the stage. It looks a bit like a lute, but it’s curved in swirling angles and with it there’s a... straight bow? Nobody else seems puzzled by this, so she figures it’s an instrument native to Teyvat.

He gets into position and Lumine’s heart begins to pound in her chest. Here it comes!

It starts with a deep, resounding hum in a minor key, tamely going above and below the starting note of the chord. The instrument makes a beautifully layered, rich sound that supports the higher and lighter tone of his voice in such a nice way that she instantly understand why he chose to use this instead of his lyre. The melody begins mysterious, and she strains her ears to make out every word.

Venti tells the tale of a forest, ruled by a bird king, a white dove. His voice flutters like the flapping of wings.

The bird king loves his forest, but invaders keep coming in and threatening it. The kings friend, the lizard, drives off the invaders, but the venom of his attack drips to the ground and poisons the forest, causing all the plants to slowly wither and die. The bird king tries everything, but cannot cure the poison, and resigns himself to die with his beloved forest instead of abandoning it, and becomes poisoned as well.

The deep thrum of the stringed instrument waxes somber.

Then, a star falls from the sky, crashing into his forest with a great flash. To the bird king’s surprise, out from the crash site flows light that purifies the poison in the forest, eventually even himself, and the great lizard. He goes to thank the star, but encounters instead a lake of tears and ash.

The bird king asks the fallen star why it laments so. The star says she has lost her ability to fly, and cannot rejoin her friends that soar the heavens. Not being able to fly sounds like the most painful fate the bird king has ever heard, and his heart is moved to help the fallen star.

Lumine recognizes a theme that resembles her song in this part, and then the instrument and Venti’s voice swirl up to a new sound.

The bird king plucks a feather from his own wing, and plants it in the now purified ground. A flower grows, and from it, he plucks a fruit.

He offers the fruit to the fallen star, telling her it is a magical fruit that can restore her power to fly, but it will cause her much pain. She eats the fruit, and is engulfed in a great flame. From the ashes of the fire, she rises, no longer a fallen star, but a phoenix.

The music soars to a climax, shifting from a minor to major key in the last few notes. Then it’s over, and Venti lowers the instrument to take a bow.

The crowd is silent a moment before erupting into applause. Lumine doesn’t know how to feel. She can’t even begin to unpack the meaning of what she just experienced.

Another bard, the next contestant replaces Venti on the stage. Lumine somehow tunes back into the present.

“-and so before I begin my performance I have something to say.” The woman on stage couldn’t be much older than Lumine. There’s something familiar about her. “Unfortunately the song I was about to play has already been played.”

A confused murmur passes through the crowd.

“I got the idea to write a song about a magic forest after being rescued by some adventurers in the Whispering Woods. I worked really ha-“ Her voice breaks on the word. “Worked really hard on it and I was so excited to show it you all today. But I can’t, because he,”

She is lifting a finger at Venti. “Stole my song.”

The host steps forward with an uneasy expression. “That’s quite the accusation. Do you have any proof, Miss...?

“-Solia. Of course I do.” She says, and hands him her notebook. “Here’s where I wrote it. You can even see the drawing I made of the bird who inspired the Bird King.”

“This... does resemble the white cranes in the Whispering Wood.” He admits. Gasps and whispers come from the crowd. Somebody says they always knew Venti was a thief and several others hear that and murmur to each other.

Lumine cannot believe her ears. She can’t see Venti’s expression from here, and she pushes through the crowd to get closer.

“Is what she is saying true, young man? Please be honest.”

Lumine pushes through to the front just as Venti answers him.

“Uheheh, no. If this is meant to be a jest, I’m afraid I must protest.” He just looks really confused. “It’s not that funny.”

“Liar!” Solia cries. “It’s my song!”

Lumine realizes where she’s seen this woman before. Sitting at the base of a windmill, writing in a notebook, a week and a half ago.

“Actually, it’s my song.”

The host looks even more confused as Lumine climbs into the stage and strides over to stand in between Solia and Venti.

“And by that I mean, he wrote it for me while you sat underneath him by the windmill and copied what you heard word for word.”

“Uh, who are you?” Solia is thrown off beat by the exposure, face flushing rapidly. “His -his girlfriend?”

“Enough of this.” The host insists. One of the knights of Favonius is saying something to him. “This young lady is an honorary knight, appointed by Acting Grand Master Jean herself. Miss Solia, if you don’t intend to play your songs, please exit the stage.”

“Huh? But-“ Solia splutters through several half formed protests, but the knight steps towards her and she raises her hands. “I-I’m going.”

Lumine turns to Venti. He looks dazed, like he still can’t believe what happened. “Come on Venti.” She grabs his hand and pulls him with her off stage. “Let’s go.”

They’re a block away before she stops. She is still holding his hand.

She’s at a loss for words. “I can’t believe she did that.”

“It’s okay, Lumine.” He’s already soothing her. “I’m not angry! Eheh... but wow, I should’ve been more careful. I hope it didn’t ruin the song for you.”

“No, not at all!” She shakes her head vehemently, clasping both his hands in hers now. “It was really good. I was really moved. You were so good!”

“Hehe. Thanks.” He’s looking at her grip on his hands.

Lumine realizes and drops them like she’s been burned.

Venti retrieves them and presses one against his cheek and rubs against it.

The question she was about to ask sputters out at the bold gesture.

“You’re so cute.” He croons, and tugs her closer to him. His blue eyes shine with mischief and happiness. “Wanna play a game?”

“Play a- uh yeah, okay!”

“Close your eyes. Open em and you lose~!”

The way he is petting her is very distracting. Lumine closes her eyes and hopes she doesn’t look dumb. She can feel his breath on her face. Her heart lurches in anticipation.

“...”

She cracks an eye open, wondering what’s going on.

“Hey! Come on, you didn’t even last ten seconds!” He complains. “I’m good at this but I’m not that fast.”

The long parts of her hair are in his hands, one side half braided. She realizes he is giving her the same style as him.

“Oh sorry.” She says, and closes her eyes at his pointed look. Lumine holds very still. She feels repetitive little tugs at her hair one side, then the other. Is he finished? Feels like it.

“We match.” His voice is very close.

Pressure pulls her head forward by the braids in a gentle motion. And then there’s a swell of warmth as soft lips press firm against hers and a hand presses against the small of her back.

Lumine was sufficiently fooled into not expecting it, and a chorus of butterflies rise in her stomach as Venti pulls back and kisses her again.

Elation fills her at the confirmed prospect of his feelings and her cautiously withheld affection for him breaks free. Lumine presses a hand to the back of Venti’s neck to bring their lips even closer together.

They take turns swapping sweet kisses until they are both breathless and love-drunk. Venti isn’t there to hear himself win first place.

#genshin impact #venti #lumine #venti x traveler #good evening to my fellow venlumi shippers and them only #just kidding lol but anyways may I offer you some cuteness in these trying times?#I did my best with the song don’t drag me please

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teamhappyme · 3 years

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a series of promising events (2/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 10.6k (yeah i have a spacing problem)

a/n: part 2 of this series is here! some dialogue, cases, and themes taken directly from criminal minds (S03 EP20, S04 EP01, & S05 EP08). originally, i had it planned to be 3 parts, but after editing, and looking at the word count, it makes more sense to be 5 parts. i don’t want to inundate you lovely people with massive word counts (even though 10k is massive) so this is the finalized count. because i finally got my shit together and finished this out, part 3 will be up wednesday morning, part 4 will be up friday morning, and the final part 5 will be up sunday morning. thank you to everyone who showed some love for part one, and thank you to anyone else who stumbled across my crazy writing and read along!

at the end, I’ve tagged the peeps that interacted with part 1. if you don’t want to be tagged for the other parts, just let me know :)

ok enough of my rambling inner monologue, here we go friends!

link to part 1: here

****

May 2008

We were in New York, investigating what started out as five connected shootings in the city. After twelve hours, we were up to nine fatalities.

We delivered the profile at nine thirty, finally satisfied with the outcome after a day's worth of combing over crime scene photos and witness statements. Hotch didn’t want to waste another second, making sure the profile went out before the night shift went out to patrol.

“Now, our first theory is that we’re dealing with a team.” Derek started. “In the case of the D.C. snipers, there was actually one intended victim.”

“John Muhammad wanted to kill his ex wife, but he knew if he did, he’d be the prime suspect, so he created a spree in order to mask his primary motivation.”

Spencer added before turning to SSA Joyner. “Muhammad and Malvo also left a death card at one of their scenes, just like this unsub.”

“We believe our unsubs have studied that case. They’re opening a line of communication.”

There was an outpouring of judgement focused on us, since we were in charge of the D.C. snipers case as well. These unsubs know we’re here, and they’re trying to show they can outthink us.

“Yes, they are playing games. But what that tells us is at least one of them has some intelligence.” You tried to hold your ground, and not let their opinions get to you.

“And like I said,” Prentiss interrupted, ready to put these cops in their place. “They know these cases. He’s also studied the placement of the surveillance systems well enough to avoid detection.”

“We’ve asked officers to canvass their precincts, and look out for a father-son type of duo that fit the dominant-submissive profile.” Rossi had Reid hand out some gang related profiles, just in case the profile shifted. But we were pretty confident in our first go.

“Talk to the people on your beats, look out for anything suspicious. And let's pray that this isn’t random.” The detective in charge finished and let his precinct disperse.

“Hey y/n/n, we’re gonna head back in five if you want a spot in the fun suburban.” JJ teased and lightly shoved Spencer’s shoulder.

You smiled and started packing up your backpack. “Okay. Just, leave the fragile doctor alone.”

After packing up any files you wanted to review when you got back to the hotel room, you let Morgan and Rossi know the four of you were headed out. They weren’t much further behind with Prentiss and Garcia.

You met Reid and JJ in the lobby, droopy eyes and mouths full of yawns adorning the three of you. It was a long day, and it was only going to be worse tomorrow.

“Where’s Hotch?” You asked, ready to get your feet out of these narrow leather dress shoes. You were wearing your combat boots tomorrow.

“He’s checking in with the lady friend.” JJ nodded her head toward Hotch, who was conversing with Joyner in her office. They were standing close, and you thought you caught a smile on his face. “Do you think they’re into each other?”

“She looks like she could be Haley’s twin,” Spencer added and you sighed.

The moment the team arrived at HQ this morning, everybody noticed the resemblance to Hotch’s ex-wife. SSA Kate Joyner went pretty far back with our unit chief. They went through the academy together and had some assignments overlap over the years. If it were up to Morgan and Garcia, the two of them would be out on a date right now. But you and Rossi quickly quieted the rumors, not wanting to deal with the rage that was Aaron Hotchner if he knew we were discussing his love life.

It had barely been six months since Haley left with Jack, and Hotch had just taken off his wedding band a few weeks ago. He didn’t tell any of you until you all witnessed him getting served in the office. It slapped you across the face, especially since you’d just met Haley and Jack for a quick lunch a month and a half before. I guess she wanted Hotch to tell you when he was ready.

As much as you valued your three year friendship with Aaron Hotchner, you knew Haley deserved better. Hotch adored his wife and son, and would fight heaven and earth to keep them safe. Unfortunately, he was too busy fighting the demons from hell to be a present father and husband. Everyone had their breaking point, and Haley had hit hers. From what Hotch has told you, they’re still amicable, and are trying to be friends again. After all, it wasn’t a lack of love that ended their marriage. It was a lack of prioritizing his family.

“Knock it off. He’s on his way over.” The three of you turned to one another, pretending to hold an intriguing conversation about one of Spencer’s magic tricks. Truthfully, you were always intrigued in his magic tricks; you never understood how he could pull endless quarters out of your ear. But that conversation would have to wait for another day.

“Ready to go?” Hotch pulled the keys out of his pant pocket, and the three of you nodded as Spencer called shotgun. A smile crossed your lips, never getting over the jovial things Spencer loved to claim when his intellect wasn’t needed to solve a case.

The fifteen minute ride to the hotel downtown was silent. You were all exhausted, emotionally and physically, sick of having to watch people die over and over again.

The four of you made it into the lobby, tomorrow morning’s papers already spread across the table. “The late edition didn’t miss a beat.” You said and picked up one of the papers, the headline reading ‘Execution Style’ with a still from one of the murders. You showed it to Hotch and he shook his head.

“I’m glad I never stooped to this level when I was publishing.” You murmured, reading the first paragraph of the article.

“JJ,” Spencer started and pointed across the lobby, causing all of us to turn. It was Detective Will LaMontagne Jr., JJ’s adorably chivalrous Louisiana boyfriend.

“Will.” You could practically hear the smile on her face as she led the walk over to him.

He was supposed to fly into D.C. to visit JJ for the weekend, but came to surprise her in New York when he heard the news. Spencer and I shared a look as Hotch extended a hand to him.

“Detective.”

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, I know you’re working. But, um. I can’t stand you being on this case. And me not being here, not with what’s going on.”

JJ shook her head in the slightest, and you started to get nervous.

“Is there a problem?” Hotch asked, concern completely taking over his voice at the thought of any harm happening to his team. The couple shared a knowing look, and your patience was starting to run thin with the information being withheld. JJ meant the world to you, and you wanted to make sure she was okay.

Reluctantly, she turned to face you all, a shy smile covering her face. “I’m pregnant.”

Spencer looked over at you, not knowing how to react to the news. But you couldn’t help the smile widening on your face.

“Oh my god, JJ! Congratulations!” You wrapped your arms around her and she laughed, most likely out of relief. This was a secret she kept for a long time.

“I’ve asked JJ to marry me,”

“Will.” She cut him off as Hotch gave him a congratulatory handshake.

“We’re working out some kinks.” He added as Spencer was next to hug your blonde friend. A baby, in the BAU. You might have been more excited than JJ.

“We’ll, uh, give you both some privacy.” Hotch started towards the elevator, and JJ was quick to follow.

“Hotch,” She didn’t continue, you knew this wasn’t the exact situation she wanted to tell everyone she was having a baby.

“JJ, you could have told me.”

The tenderness in his voice could have broken your heart in two right then and there, but add on the fact that you swore you could see Hotch’s eyes tear in the slightest, you were done. You didn’t want to mention it in front of Reid, but you knew this had to do with Haley. You’d be an idiot not to notice.

The three of you filed into the elevator, leaving JJ and Will to talk in private. You all got off on the fourth floor, Reid’s room the first to come up in the hallway.

“Night Spencer.”

“Goodnight. Seven a.m.,” He reminded you as he opened the door with his keycard.

You and Hotch walked down another ten feet before he found his room.

“Goodnight,” He mumbled out and reached for his key.

“Hotch,” He closed his eyes, nodding his head in the slightest.

“I’m tired, y/n.” You could’ve pushed harder. You could have gotten him to crack if you started nagging enough. You’d earned the title as baby sister from the team since you could whine and nag them into doing anything. But tonight didn’t seem like a good time for your skills.

You nodded, understanding this conversation wasn’t going to happen.

“Goodnight. Get some sleep.”

Despite your best efforts, you didn’t sleep a wink. Hotch had gone over his files and called for Kate to meet him in the lobby. But then there was an explosion, and you had to watch from your window as Hotch sat by Joyner, waiting for her to die.

Once the team had caught the second unsub and wrapped everything up at the precinct, you headed to the hospital to check on Hotch. And unsurprisingly, he was refusing any further treatment for the ringing in his ears he tried to deny. You saw him kick Rossi out of the room, the third member that couldn’t get through to him.

“Bobo, why don’t you give it a try. Can’t yell at the baby with a broken arm.” You were the one to tackle the unsub, and landed pretty hard on the pavement downtown. Nothing a black cast covered in smiley faces from Spencer and Garcia couldn’t fix.

“I know you can’t tell, but I’m flipping you off right now.” You responded to Morgan as you raised your casted hand toward him.

You headed to Hotch’s room, knocking on the window before you walked in.

“I swear to god if you try to put me in another MRI,” He started to raise his voice when you interrupted him.

“Shit, I should go tell Morgan he was wrong. Boss is willing to yell at the baby with a broken arm.”

He turned around to face you, the lines on his forehead disappearing once he saw it was you and not Rossi.

“What happened to your arm?” You smiled and glanced down at the cast. “Just another day on the job. Tackled the unsub, the pavement was not very kind to me.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to put his tie back around his neck. You scoffed, stepping over to him.

“Why the hell would you want to put that back on?”

“Because it’s part of my suit.”

You knew better than to pull it out of his hands. He was holding on to any semblance of control, and his outfit was all that he had left. Instead you took a seat in the stiff chair across from him, watching as he grimaced every time he lifted his arms too high.

“If your goal is to get me to stay another minute here under observation, you’re not gonna win.”

You shook your head. “That’s not my goal.”

He sighed, giving up on putting his tie on. He moved to finish his top button, he was at least going to be covered.

“You should be excited for JJ.” You started, testing the water on this subject.

“Did I suggest otherwise?” He asked and you shook your head.

“When was the last time you saw Jack?” His eyes widened the slightest, and you regretted asking the question. You gripped the arms of the chair, ready to be ripped a new one.

Instead, Hotch let out a sigh, and you snapped your head up. “Two weeks. Haley went to visit her mother for a week, and then we went from Florida to New York in three days.”

He was already away from Jack half the week when they were still living under the same roof. Now he was lucky if he got to say goodnight on a weekend.

“Why don’t you take some time off? I’m sure you have weeks saved up. I’ve been here three years and have never seen a tan on you.”

He shook his head. “Strauss would never approve of it.”

“Hotch,”

“Y/n, I really want to get out of this hospital room and call my son.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Fine. But you’re not flying home. You have a choice between Morgan and Rossi to drive you home. My recommendation would be Morgan, you don’t want to sit through four hours of Opera music.”

You stood up, refusing to meet his eye. You were sick of dealing with stubborn men.

“I’ll see if they can fax your records to D.C. before we leave.”

He muttered out a thank you as you left the room, shaking your head at the rest of the team.

“Nothing?” Morgan asked as you returned to them.

“Nothing. Even the baby gets yelled at.” Spencer spared you a glance and you gave him a small smile. You would be fine. “And Derek, you’re driving him back.”

***

January 2010

You didn’t think it could get worse than seeing Hotch with nine stab wounds at the hands of Foyet. You desperately wanted to believe that it couldn’t be worse than that. But you were naive to think that he would let Aaron survive and not make him suffer.

None of you would be able to erase the image of Haley’s bloody body lying in the home where she and Aaron created their family. You wouldn’t forget the sight of Hotch beating into Foyet’s face, or the sobs that raked through his body once Derek had shaken him off. This was a tragedy that shaped the entire team.

After Haley’s death, the seven of you took turns checking in on Hotch, Jack, and Haley’s sister Jessica. She stayed close by when Hotch was on leave, helping him with Jack’s routine, and how to explain to the four year old where his mommy went. She moved back into her apartment a few blocks away before Aaron returned to work. He wanted to prove to her that he could do this on his own, that he could be the strong father that Jack deserved, and that Haley would be proud of.

While the three of them were together, the team would try and make it over every Saturday for dinner. Hotch needed to be around friends, and Jessica needed a guilt free night to spend with the people that made her feel good. He was reluctant at first, not wanting us over the apartment, complaining that it was a mess, and it was too small to fit everyone. But it was impeccably neat, the result of a widow not being able to sleep. Once he became comfortable with us coming around on Saturday’s, we’d pick two weeknights to stop by with a dinner, movie, or game to help take their minds off of the pain. Although you and JJ stopped by every friday regardless of whose week it was, Hotch really appreciated the extra company, and so did Jack.

Despite his attempts at being independent, there were one too many distressed calls being made to you or JJ if he couldn’t get a hold of Jess, or if he didn’t want to burden her with the responsibility.

Your feelings about Jack Hotchner hadn’t changed in the four years since you met him. You would still do anything to see the adorable little boy smile. So, it was easy to say that you didn’t mind the late night phone calls worrying about Jack’s stuffy nose or when he should take the chicken out of the freezer without it going bad. Because the more he reached out to any one of you, the closer he was to finding a new normal.

However, all of you were surprised to see SSA Aaron Hotchner in his office only a month and a half after the event. Sure, he made remarkable progress, but you all assumed he would take a little more time, maybe take Jack on a well deserved vacation. Instead, you walked into the office on a monday morning, Hotch the first one in attendance.

That was two weeks ago.

The readjustment period had worn off, and Hotch was back to being a drill sergeant. Even more aggressive than he was before.

The case we were working was local, saving us the discomfort of sleeping in a hotel bed. We were in Virginia, investigating two murdered families, similar to ‘The Fox’.

“Who?” You asked, not familiar with the creepy nickname.

“Four years ago Karl Arnold, aka the fox, killed eight families.” Derek informed you. It must have been just before you started at the BAU.

“Similar to this case he took the father’s wedding rings, except in his case he took them as trophies.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch, you gave evidence at Arnold’s trial. I think you should go see him.” Derek was acting unit chief since before Haley’s death, and continued his position even with Hotch’s return. Strauss was weary now more than ever to give Aaron the title back so quick.

“I’d like to take l/n with me.” You looked over to Hotch, his eyes resting on yours, waiting for your approval.

You gave a small nod, placing your sunglasses over your eyes. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Hotch got the keys to a suburban and before you could meet him at the car, Prentiss pulled you back.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay with this?” She was always looking out for you, heck she was the one that made you pack extra barf bags for crime scenes. She knew meeting face to face with a family killer would do a number on you. But Hotch can’t face this guy on his own. Not after what happened.

“I’m good. Not the first time I've interrogated a psychopath.” She reluctantly nodded.

“Okay. Just, let Hotch take the lead.”

You gave her arm a squeeze. “I will. Let’s find this guy.”

The ride to Red Onion Supermax was a short and quiet one. Hotch filled you in on the particulars of Arnold’s case, making sure you knew it inside and out. This was a team effort after all.

You couldn’t get a clean read on Hotch, however, on the ride over. He’d yet to crack a true smile or laugh in the weeks he’d been back, which normally wouldn’t be so out of character for him. But Reid had been trying to get him to crack with every magic trick he knew, even agreeing to let Derek joke about his lack of childhood and understanding of pop culture. But nothing worked.

It worried you to see the regression he’s made since coming back. You knew how happy he was at home with Jack, that a smile crossed his face most of the day when he was playing legos with his son. You hoped he was here because he wanted to be, not because he felt like he had an obligation to the team or the Bureau.

“Karl has a big ego. He’s going to answer every question with a question. He’ll try to gain the advantage with me by asking why I’m not wearing my wedding ring.” You looked down at his left hand, the gold band that you noticed on your first day, now gone, along with the woman he loved. “And then he will turn his attention to you.”

“So that’s why you brought me along.”

“Your presence will throw him off guard. And he’s going to want to describe to you in graphic detail every sexual act he committed with the families.”

“To freak me out?” Because you haven’t even met this sick bastard and you were certainly already freaked out.

Hotch met your eye, and you knew this was only going to get worse. “To pull you into his fantasy.”

The guard radioed for the gate to open, and you tried to contain the tremors in your hands. This was a wing of psychotic sexual sadists, they would pick up on your nervous ticks.

You looked to Hotch once the gate opened, and he nodded for you to go in.

“Go ahead.” You followed the guard in, surprised at the lack of noise you were welcomed with. “Keep your eyes forward. More than anything he’s going to want to see images of the children.”

“We can’t give him that.” You argued, as you started to hear the men from their cells.

“We have to give him something or we’ll get nothing from him.”

You’d kept your breathing under control the entire walk down the hallway, until a man crashed against the glass, causing you to flinch and spare a glance.

“Isn’t that, uh,-”

“Derek Payne.” He finished for you, his eyes still straight ahead.

“It’s reinforced glass.” You scoffed. Of course he wasn’t worried about another man ripping him apart.

“Easy for you to say, he tore apart fourteen women.”

The door opened to the interrogation room, and this time Hotch entered first. You were met with Karl Arnold, red bushy hair and a beard to match. He was average height, and a little stocky, not what you pictured him to look like.

“Hello Karl,” Hotch greeted him as we settled in on the other side of the table.

“Agent Hotchner,” He stood. “I wasn’t informed you were bringing a, uh,” He glanced at you, looking you up and down before turning back to Hotch. You really regretted wearing a white silk top with your dress pants today. “They just said two agents.”

“This is Agent-”

“Y/n, l/n.” You tried to control the dilation of your eyes as he looked right through you. “I know all about you.”

Now you understood why Emily asked you if you were sure about this. He kept his eyes on Hotch as he started the interrogation, never looking you in the eyes longer than a second. Even if you directed a question toward him, he would only answer to Hotch. He was a misogynist. You don’t know why you’re so surprised at this discovery, he tortured wives and families.

When he offered up his book of dialogue between him and his fans, he smelled your perfume as you reached across the table to grab it. Hotch quickly took it for you, letting you sit back down in your seat. Your gut was no longer in your stomach, it was lodged in your throat.

“How’d you lose your ring, Agent Hotchner?” It was beyond your level of profiling to understand how Hotch could just sit there and take the assault on his personal life from a man who ruined families, especially with what he’d just been through. You’d never mastered the art of compartmentalization quite like Hotch. But right now, you were thankful for your uncontrollable emotions.

“I can look past your refusal to answer my question, if you let me see the children. It’s the only way I can truly help you.” You gripped the files harder at the mention of the victims and looked at Hotch.

“Can I speak with you for a second?” He nodded and the two of you stood.

“Is there something wrong, y/n?” You bit back the sarcasm that was threatening to fall from your mouth.

“Nothing’s wrong, Karl.”

You exited the interrogation room, still clutching the files close to your chest.

“We cannot show him these.”

He looked at Arnold, who seemed to find your eyes, even through the reflective mirror. “These images will be his undoing and will lead us to the killer.”

“These are not just images.”

“That’s exactly what they are.”

“Hotch, I am not about to parade a dead twelve year old girl in a bathing suit in front of a serial killer who gets off on it.” You raised your voice, not willing to compromise any respect you had left for these victims.

“Then show him the others. It’ll gain his trust and get him talking. He won’t talk to me, he knows I know everything that gets him off. But he’ll want to tell you just what he would do to them. I told you, he wants to pull you in.”

You shook your head. “These are children! Helpless children whose fathers have to live with what this animal did to their families! These strangers do not get to see the torture and humiliation that they went through.”

“If you can’t stomach showing him what he desires, then I’ll do it. Because we’re not leaving until we get a name out of him. You’re either with the team or you’re not.”

You scoffed. “You’re not the unit chief anymore. I do what Morgan says if we can’t come to an agreement.”

It was bold of you to remind him of his subordinate place. But you were equals now, despite the decade between you two. You didn’t have to listen to his orders if you felt they were wrong.

He reached for the files, but you turned away from him. “I’m going in there. Not you. But I’m going to run the interrogation my way, not exposing these children. If you have a problem with that, you can call Morgan.”

You motioned for the guard to let you back in. You took your seat across from Karl, a smirk still evident on his face.

“What, no Agent Hotchner?”

“You know, yours was one of the first cases I studied,” You started, trying to loosen up the muscles in your face. Going against every natural instinct in your body was making it hard to relax. “I’ve been fascinated ever since. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was embarrassed with him in the room.”

“You’re embarrassed because you want to know what I did, don’t you.” You pushed out a smile, a little giggle behind it to entice him.

And of course it did. “Yes.”

“I can show you exactly what I did to them.”

“Tell me.” You tilted your head to the side, pushing some hair behind your ear. You were fighting the bile rising in your throat with every word you exchanged with him.

“Children are so precious, so clean. But they need guidance, especially the girls.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“Girls have much more to lose than boys. It’s a fact, the female body can handle pain much better.” If this wasn’t a serial killer across from you, you’d agree with him and make some jokes about the female anatomy. But he was enjoying this, just like Hotch said. He was pulling you in.

“What did you do to them?”

He smiled. “I showed them, what men, their fathers, and brothers, are capable of.”

“And what is that?”

“Once I killed the children, It always amazed me how little the father fought the inevitable, the dying.”

“I never thought I would get these answers, let alone from the man himself.” You pushed out another smile, because you knew he was holding back. He was almost willing to trust you, he just needed to be groomed a little more.

“It takes a good woman, to make an honest man. And you’re prettier than Agent Hotchner.”

He was dancing around the information now, knowing that he had your time and attention. “Karl, do you know why you killed all those families?”

“I already told you why.”

You dropped the sweet tone, and pushed up on your elbows. “No, you told me how. And your motivations were all driven by sex, motivations you learned from your father.”

You saw him flinch, and you knew you were getting somewhere.

“You assert your dominance by making the father, the head of the household, watch you torture, assault, and take anything you wanted from the people he’s supposed to protect. Now your admirer, they don’t have the same ambitions as you do. And normally, that would bother a man like you. You want to be adored for every single part of your mess. But like you said, they’re an admirer, not a fan. So I’m guessing it’s a woman, who you’ve really come to care for.”

He tugged on his shackled wrists, you clearly got what you were looking for.

“Those women, those girls, they needed to be taught a lesson. How to obey who’s in charge. And you,” he laughed as he inched as far across the table as he could. “The things I would do to you if I weren’t nailed to this table. You’d be done before I could call your name.”

Before you could respond, Hotch came into the room, demanding a name. You stood up, no longer needing to play a role.

“It must be distracting, working with such a beautiful woman everyday.” You didn’t spare him another glance as you heard him mumble out a name to Hotch, finally getting what he wanted: power over you.

“Morgan, we’ve got a name. It’s a female guard in intake. Get everybody here ASAP.” The guard led you and Hotch back down the hallway, through the lion's den, and back to the elevator. Once inside, you let out a breath. Hotch turned to look at you, but you spoke up before he had the chance.

“Don’t ask me to do that ever again.”

You would’ve yelled at him, tore him to pieces in the elevator ride from the fourth floor to the exit, but there was a guard escorting you out. You didn’t want him to have the privilege of watching two FBI agents battle it out. And honestly, you weren’t sure if you had the heart to yell at him after all he’d been through.

But once you were escorted through the exterior gates, your team in sight, you regained the nerve to give Hotch a piece of your mind.

Not before he spoke first though.

“You did exactly what needed to be done. I didn’t ask you to act that way toward him, and I’m sorry you feel that that was your only way in. But I’m not going to apologize for getting the name of the killer.”

“So you would have acted in the same degrading way if the roles were reversed?”

He scoffed. “Yes, I would have. Because unlike you, my feelings don’t impair my judgement or ability to do this job. You’re an asset to this team, you need to find a way to get your emotions in check.”

You stopped walking, turning around to face him. You were in the middle of the driveway now, SWAT and BAU canvassing the scene. But you were going to do this here and now.

“The only reason you brought me here was to appeal to that sick son of a bitch. The only thing that makes me an asset to you is the fact that I have a vagina and you don’t. You turned me from a Supervisory Special Agent into a fighting fuck toy! You watched as I drained every ounce of respect I had for myself to turn into what that psychopath desired, all because I wouldn’t show him pictures of innocent children.” He looked over your shoulder to the team, embarrassed that they were hearing this. “At least have the respect to look at me while I’m talking to you!”

Hotch had never heard you yell like this. You were the calm one, the baby, as Derek called you. No one ever pushed you so far over the edge to get a reaction out of you. At least, not until he did.

“The next time you ask me, JJ, Prentiss, or Garcia to flirt our way into a serial killer's mind, to expect us to degrade ourselves in order to save another woman, I will not hesitate to report you to Strauss.” You could hear footsteps behind you, but you continued on as tears started to form in your eyes. “You used to say that my empathy was what made me an amazing agent. That my ability to connect with victims and families was the reason I’m here. So do not try and make me feel worthless for possessing something that you wish you could have. Because the way you act, with no capability for empathy, is a depressing way to live.”

“Y/n,” Spencer rested a hand on your shoulder, but you shook it off.

“Figure out the man you want to be.”

Before you could say anything else, Spencer dragged you away from Hotch and towards the cars. You could feel the tears freely falling down your cheeks, but you made no effort to remove them. You ignored the stares from the rest of your team, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing what went down in that interrogation room. Instead, you got into the passenger seat of the suburban, and Spencer started the drive back to the office.

Rationally, you knew you went off too hard at him. He never deliberately asked you to flirt with Arnold. He asked you to show him the pictures of Lucy, to get him to crack under the fantasy. But you refused. You would rather make yourself go through that pain than any young child. It’s what you’d always done.

Spencer tried to convince you they hadn’t heard the conversation. That they were all too focused on SWAT’s apprehending of the guard to pay attention.

“Spence,” You started and looked over at him. “We all had our earpieces in. You heard every word.”

And he was silent the rest of the ride back. You were exhausted, and you wanted nothing more than to go home and fall asleep on your couch with reruns playing in the background. But you had a mountain of paperwork to finish, and still needed to debrief when the team got back.

Halfway through your stack, the team came back to the bullpen. Prentiss gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze as she passed by, heading for her desk. Derek had agreed to let everyone go home without debriefing. This was the earliest we’d been done with a case so close to home. We needed to capitalize on our rest.

JJ was the first to go home, excited to be home in time for dinner with Will and Henry. Prentiss and Rossi followed shortly after, going to celebrate the win of this case at an expensive restaurant, at Dave’s expense.

“Come on you two, don’t make me drag you out of here kicking and screaming.” Derek addressed you and Reid as he pulled his coat on.

“We’re right behind you boss man.” Spencer said and turned his desk light off, grabbing his cane. He should be able to ditch all mobility aids soon.

You swung your backpack over a shoulder and turned off your own light. You didn’t even make it out of your four foot space before Hotch called out to you.

“Y/n, could I see you before you leave?” He was standing in front of his office, on higher ground than the rest of us. Power move, you thought to yourself. But he wouldn’t be that petty.

You looked back to Reid and Moran, the former nodding to you before seeing himself to the elevator. Now it was just Spencer, his eyes begging for you to leave.

“I don’t need to remind you how deeply you care for all of us. But if you keep putting yourself out there to comfort him, you’re going to get destroyed.” This was the first time Spencer had mentioned this to you. Sure, you’d been helping Hotch out at home, a little more than normal, but everybody was pitching in. His wife died for god's sake.

“Spence, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He let out a sigh and fidgeted with his cane. You found it at a consignment shop on one of your weekends off, and bought it for him without hesitation. It had an eagle engraved in it’s clutch, something regal, medieval, and screamed Spencer Reid. You ignored the price, a forty dollars more than you would’ve liked to spend on a walking stick, but the look on his face when you gave it to him was priceless.

“You need to stand up for yourself. Nothing excuses the way he treated you today. Regardless of your decision to play a character.”

God, could he read you.

“No pair of rose colored glasses could cloud that. Not even yours.” He gave you one last shadow of a smile before limping his way to the elevator.

Once you regained your composure, you turned to make your way up to Hotch’s office. He was sitting in his chair, staring at the paperwork waiting to be filled out before him. You knocked on the open door, and he stood up without even looking at you. You were going to take Spencer’s advice and stick up for yourself, so you had to set the pace.

“Can this be quick? I wanted to get home before traffic started up.” He rounded the front of his desk, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leaned against it.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you back at the prison.” You nodded, not wanting to verbally accept the apology that was due to you hours ago. “I was out of line and completely blinded by the case. I should’ve listened to you and taken your reservations into consideration. It was narcissistic of me to think I was the only one capable of making the right decision.”

“Thank you.” You stuttered out, still absorbing the tone of his voice. His word choice was self deprecating, a cry for help if you didn’t know any better.

“Y/n,” He started but was interrupted by a shaky breath. “I hate that I made you feel like all you’re good for is to romance your way into their heads. You deserve to be treated with respect, to be valued because of your empathy and your psychological understanding of victims and their families. If I’ve ever made you feel like you were worthless before this afternoon, please tell me.”

“No, you’ve never made me feel that way.”

He nodded before turning to grab a piece of paper from his desk.

“Good. Because I’ve written up a complaint for Strauss, describing my behavior and language directed toward you today. You shouldn’t have to wait for a next time to file it.”

He extended the paper to you, and you walked until you were standing in front of him, accepting the complaint into your hands. But you didn’t even read it before tearing it in two.

“What are you doing?”

“Hotch, I’m not filing a complaint against you. Everything that I did today was my choice. You didn’t force me into anything.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the first time you’ve seen it tousled in the office.

“I was uncomfortable showing Arnold those pictures. So I made the choice to play a character, to appeal to his fantasy. You weren’t in the room, and you didn’t suggest that. If anything, you tried more than anything to get me to stick to the script. Did you have some choice words for me that weren’t necessarily appropriate? Yes. But we all have our moments. After we got out of there, I felt sick that I had to do that to get a name out of him. It wasn’t the first time I’ve camouflaged myself for the greater good, and it won’t be the last. I took out the self hatred I had on you, because you were there. Because if I did it your way, I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror again without feeling ashamed. But you didn’t deserve it.”

“Yes, I do. I deserve to be ridiculed for telling you that your empathy is a weakness. I deserve to be ridiculed for yelling at Garcia for missing something on a search. I deserve,”

His voice broke, and you froze in place. You were about to see Aaron Hotchner cry for the first time in four years. “I deserve to be punished for Haley’s death.”

Your own eyes started to water as you saw a single tear roll down his cheek. Without thinking, you reached forward and held his hands in your own. They were shaking, and he tried to pull them away from you. But you held on tight, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hotch, look at me.” He kept his gaze on the windows, looking out onto the concrete roof.

“Hotch, please.” You were quieter the second time, and that’s what got him to meet your eyes.

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you could’ve prevented Haley’s death if you did one thing instead of the other. Because no matter what you did, Foyet would’ve found her, and done this all over again.” He tried to look away from you, but you tugged on his hands, begging him to stay. “But what you did prevent, was Foyet taking away the greatest thing you and Haley ever made. You saved your son, Hotch. And you ended Foyet’s reign of terror. You get to spend every day reminding Jack how amazing his mother was. How strong, resilient, and fierce she was. How she looked death in the eye and didn’t even flinch. You get to live the rest of your life for your son.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting the few remaining tears fall down his face. You let your own fall with the reprieve of no longer being under his stare, not wanting to fall apart when he needed you.

“I love her. I never stopped loving her. The divorce, it wasn’t because of that. It was because of this job.”

You squeezed his hands before letting them go, letting him wipe off his face.

“I know. And I know she never stopped loving you.”

You never thought you would get to this moment when you first met Haley. You let out a small laugh while remembering your first encounter, how pregnant and angry she was at Hotch.

“What?” You smiled and shook your head.

“I’m just remembering the first time I met her. She was pregnant, she called you a robot, and was cracking jokes left and right to try and get you to crack.”

That got him to smile. “I could always make her laugh when we were younger. She had the funniest, most embarrassing laugh. But it was Haley. And it was addicting.”

You wanted him to remember her like this, with a smile on her face and the loving soul she was.

“I truly am sorry for what I said to you, but you have to know I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded. “I know you didn’t. Just apologize to Garcia in the morning, and get home to Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave you a small smile as you picked up your backpack.

Spencer’s words stung in your ears while you were holding Hotch’s hands. You loved everyone on this team as your family. And Hotch needed you to be there for him a lot more over the last two months. Sure, you’d brushed off some harsh conversations with him considering the circumstances, but you knew when it went too far, like today.

“Y/n,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, stopping you at the door. “Thank you.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Maybe you did care too much for people. But if it helped them get back to normal, you’ll continue wearing those rose colored glasses a little while longer.

***

March 2010

“I’m grocery shopping. Because I have no food in my apartment and I never thought I’d say this, but I’m sick of eating pizza.” You threw a box of cheerios in your cart, careful not to hit the eggs on their way in.

“That’s how you’re spending your saturday? Our first saturday off in a month?”

“Well, unless I want to spend another twenty bucks on one meal, I’ve gotta do my grown up chores.” “You need to get your butt back home so we can go out and drink.”

Emily was relentless, to say the least. Every single weekend you had off, her number popped up on your phone the minute you got home. She hated resting in her own solitude, and tried to drag you along for any activity she could think of. Shopping, drinking, walking around the national mall, and, in desperate cases, running. But her record wasn’t stellar in getting you to attend.

“I’m spending the afternoon with my couch, a book that has taken me too long to read, and probably eat an entire bag of smartfood.” You chucked a box of granola bars in your cart too when you heard a kid cry. You turned to the end of the aisle, but the parent was blocking the child. “Besides, it’s dinner tonight at Hotch’s.”

“He canceled this morning. Rossi was supposed to call and let you know.” You rolled your eyes. Of course Dave forgot.

“Daddy! I want the poptarts!” You heard the kid yell out again. But you knew that voice, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Em, I’ll see you on Monday. Have a shot for me.”

“I’ll have two.”

You laughed as you hung up the phone, pushing the cart over to your favorite little boy on the planet. You didn’t think to give the father another glance when you didn’t recognize him, but that’s because Aaron Hotchner is never without a suit at the office. He was dressed in jeans now and a quarter zip, looking like a normal dad.

When you approached the two boys, Jack was leaning against the shelf, tears streaming down his cheeks as he kicked his feet against the ground.

“It looks like SSA Hotchner could use some help profiling his son.”

Hotch was quick to stand up, meeting your eye. You only smiled while crouching down to Jack’s level.

“Hey little man, what’s the problem here?” He wiped the tears from his cheeks, and your heart broke at the redness in his eyes.

“Daddy won’t let me get any pop tarts.”

“That’s because you ate the whole box in one day without my permission.” Aaron argued back.

You hid your laugh in your shoulder, not wanting to upset Jack any more. But Hotch had already caused him to spiral into a meltdown again.

“Jack, have you ever had ants on a log?” He shook his head, tears continuing down his chubby cheeks. “Well, they were my favorite snack when I was little. It’s celery, peanut butter, and raisins all set up on a plate. And the best part is, you get to make it yourself! Now, I know how much you love peanut butter, and I bet if you ate this snack, Daddy will let you get poptarts the next time you go grocery shopping.”

“Okay.” He said and nodded his little head. “But I’m sick of grocery shopping.”

“Me too buddy.” I sat down next to him. “I do not like having to walk up and down these aisles searching for food. So, why don’t we sit here while daddy finishes his list?”

You spared a glance at Hotch and his practically full basket. You knew he would be done in ten minutes if you stayed here with Jack.

“Are you sure?” Aaron asked and you nodded.

“‘Course. I don’t need food that bad anyway.” He sighed and made his way back to his carriage.

You pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of your purse and handed it to Jack.

“Aunt Jessica told me that you know how to write your name now. Can you show me?”

He sat up straight, laying the paper down on the floor. You watched as he made a loopy uppercase J, followed with big and small letters to spell out the rest of his name.

“That’s awesome buddy. What about your last name?”

“Hotchner!” He yelled out and you laughed.

“Yeah, let me spell it out for you.” You wrote it out on the paper and it took him a few minutes to copy down.

“You’re turn now, y/n.” He handed you the pen and you wrote your name down, saying the letters as you wrote them. Jack repeated you, and it made you laugh. You forgot that kids were such sponges.

By the time you finished writing Aaron and Haley’s names for Jack, Hotch was back with his cart. “Alright buddy, it’s time for us to go. We gotta let y/n finish her grocery shopping.”

“No! I want y/n to come home with us for dinner. She was helping me spell everyone's names!”

You smiled as you stood up, giving Jack a hand. “Maybe next time buddy. But you gotta get home to try those ants on a log.”

“Actually, we’re making pizzas for dinner, Jack’s saturday choice. You can come over, if you don’t have any plans already.” You’d never heard Hotch this nervous before. It made you laugh a little.

“I’d love to. Only if I get to put extra cheese on my pizza though.”

“Of course!” Jack exclaimed and you matched his smile.

“Awesome! I’ll let you two pay for all this food and I’ll meet you at your house okay?” Jack nodded before running to the front of the cart.

“You sure you don’t have any plans? I don’t want you to give up another saturday night at my expense,”

“Hotch there is nothing more exciting than spending my weekends with the cutest four year old on the planet.” He smiled, but you knew he still wasn’t convinced. “Besides, every other twenty-nine year old I know is in a stuffy club in uncomfortable clothes. This is much more my pace.”

He nodded, a small smile on his face. “Okay. We’ll meet you at the apartment in a half an hour.”

“Sounds good. See you soon Jack!” You waved to the little boy and quickly tried to finish buying the staples that could get you through a few days at home.

You got home and quickly put your food away, making sure everything that needed to be refrigerated was chilled. You switched your t-shirt for a long sleeve tee, opting for sneakers instead of boots. Comfort was the utmost importance on days off.

It took you twenty minutes to get to Hotch’s apartment from yours, arriving at five on the dot. You were known for, and proud of your punctuality. Hotch answered the door after two knocks, and you couldn’t help but focus on the noise of three different locks unlocking.

He greeted you with a slight nod of the head, button down replacing his quarter zip.

“Do you even own comfortable clothes?” “This is comfortable.” You rolled your eyes, as he took the poptarts from your hands, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Didn’t I just have this fight with my four year old son about not buying these?” He asked as he let you in the house.

“Yes, but I’m the fun dinner guest. I bring the treats for the children.”

He tried to hide the small huff of a laugh that escaped his lips, but you still caught it. “You will be the death of me.”

You let out a laugh as he led you into the kitchen, putting them away on the top cabinet. I reached for my hip and pulled my holster off, putting it on the counter.

“Do you have somewhere I can put this? Last thing I need is to drop it while I throw up my pizza dough.” He unlocked the drawer in his desk, placing it in there before locking it back up.

You heard tiny footsteps running down the hall. “Y/n! It’s pizza time!”

You smiled as he tugged at your legs. “I know! I’m so excited!”

“Alright buddy, you’re up first. Show y/n how we properly throw our pizza dough in the air.” Hotch pushed a step stool over to the counter, waiting for Jack to step up. The grin on the little boy's face was ginormous as he powdered his hands with flour, taking the small ball of dough Hotch separated for him.

The two of you were on either side of Jack, each ready to follow his lead in the process. “Ok, on the count of three. One, two, three!”

You spun the dough in your hands before throwing it in the air, watching it separate the slightest bit. Jack’s giggles filled the apartment as he let his dough fall onto the counter. Aaron shook his head, you could tell this part of the meal was always a struggle for the little boy.

You watched as Jack spread out the miniscule amount of sauce he wanted along his crust, topping it off with a mountain of cheese. You taught him the more cheese, the better, and he clearly still believed you. You added some pepperoni to your own oval shaped pie, unsuccessful in making a perfect circle crust. But, not everyone could be the perfect Italian chef like David Rossi.

While the pizza’s were in the oven, the three of you sat down to play a few rounds of Candyland. You hadn’t played since your time at DCFS, and you forgot how there was no real objective to the game. It certainly wasn’t your game of choice, but Jack was still a little young to be able to contend with you in a game of monopoly. A few more years, you thought.

Once the pizza’s were done, Jack helped you set the table as Hotch cut the pies. You felt a little out of place, crossing some very important boundaries by having dinner with just the two Hotchner boys. This saturday was much different than the ones you spent when the whole team was over, Henry and Jack putting on dance parties for the guests.

You started to become more aware of your actions around the apartment; how you knew where the placemats were kept, that Jack used his purple cup for milk at dinner, and the strict no electronics rule at the table. However, that had been established by Haley years ago. The thought of her had a shot of guilt running through your stomach, sitting down with her family for dinner, just three and a half months after she’d passed.

You’d been thinking a lot about what Spencer had said that night at the BAU. He was vague, too vague for the doctor that could tell you how long he’d been alive down to the second. After a few sleepless nights, you called the doctor in question and demanded he explain himself. But after his admission, you quickly regretted having all the information.

Spencer Reid has known you for almost five years now, and has seen you through the moments that have shaped your adult life. Killing Stephanie Moore, testifying in the fisher king case, being your excusing phone call from multiple dates, and holding your hand as you took in one of your former foster siblings from a bad relationship. There was absolutely nothing in your life that could be hidden from him.

So when he told you he noticed your feelings for Hotch ‘about two years ago’, you nearly stopped dead in your pacing tracks. Not because you didn’t know your own feelings for the man, but because you didn’t realize it had been that long. That he had been married to Haley, albeit only for a month longer, that you started to notice how handsome your boss was. Upon hearing the truth out loud, and from another person, you ran to the bathroom and threw up a few times.

You were so embarrassed, so ashamed of caring for someone that couldn’t be yours. For caring for someone who’s wife you truly adored. After the third round of puking, Spencer reassured you through the phone that it wasn’t your fault. We can’t control who we love. And yes, he said love.

“Are you okay y/n?” Jack’s little voice pulled you from your thoughts. You smiled at his sauce covered face and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How’s your pizza, Jack?”

“Awesome! Daddy is the best pizza cooker ever!”

“You sure you’re okay? You look a little pale,” Aaron commented and referenced your plate. You hadn’t taken a bite.

“I’m good, really. Just thinking about how I’m going to make a bigger lego tower than Jack after dinner.”

That got the little boy to laugh, successfully switching the conversation to Jack’s favorite toys. But you noticed the glaces Hotch snuck your way, not believing you for a second. You were an awful liar.

The longer the three of you sat at the table, the larger your smile grew around these boys. Seeing Hotch being able to relax and really enjoy his time with Jack always brought a smile to your face. He was a natural father, sliding into the role of playmate and swaddler, cuddler and soother. You even remember him helping JJ out with Henry’s swaddle at work one day.

But you knew he felt guilty, not being able to be present in his son’s life everyday. You saw it in the hundred’s of views of the video of Jack’s first steps, the late night phone calls while away on a case just to say goodnight to his little boy. He missed out on a lot of the baby years, and he would be making it up to Jack for the rest of his life, with nights like these. With the whole weekend devoted to Jack Hotchner’s favorite things, minus the sugary pop tarts. Hotch had mastered the duality of being a Supervisory Special Agent for the FBI, and the loving father to Jack Hotchner. It was one of the reasons why you started caring so much for him.

“Alright Jack, you can build one tower with y/n, then it’s bath time and off to bed.” You saw the pout on Jack’s face as Hotch cleared our plates, and you helped him off the chair.

“Come on, maybe if we’re quick enough we can make two.”

He giggled as he led you to his room, stuffed animals and toys galore. This boy won’t want for a thing.

“Okay, you make a big blue one, I’ll do purple.”

You finished much quicker than the four year old, but under no circumstances would he let you sit and watch him make his masterpiece. Instead, since you had nearly two and a half feet on him, you stacked your tower on top of his and continued adding pieces to make it bigger. He cheered you on as it started to reach your head, and you were getting excited yourself. Until, it came to a crashing fall with the last green piece on top.

“Noo!” Jack yelled out, trying to catch the falling pieces.

“It’s okay Buddy, you can always make another one.” Aaron’s voice trying to soothe his son caught both you and the little guy’s attention.

The two of you turned to see Hotch leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. You wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“And maybe next time, we can make one as big as daddy.”

Hotch let out a laugh as Jack smiled at you in amazement. He liked how your brain worked.

“Bath time, bud. We gotta get your face cleaned up from all that pizza sauce, and ship you off to bed.”

“But y/n’s here,” He whined, not wanting the lego fun to end.

“Well I have to get home and take a shower too, bud. Don’t worry, there’s plenty more playdates in your future.” You said and stood up, giving the little boy a high five.

“Go wait for me in the bathroom okay, I’m gonna walk y/n out.”

“Okay. Bye bobo.” He said and ran off to the bathroom, leaving you speechless in his bedroom.

“You let him be around Derek Morgan way too much.”

“Probably. But you can’t compete with the guy who brings over a new lego set every weekend.” Hotch got your gun for you, walking you back to the front door.

“Are you kidding? You’re his hero, Hotch. He asked me last week if I was a superhero like daddy.” He cracked a smile, but his eyes were glued to the floor, unable to meet your own.

“Why did you cancel dinner tonight?” He sighed and lifted his head. You’d been wanting to ask him since you were at the grocery store. The team had been coming over for three months now, and it was something we all started to look forward to.

“I was sick of feeling like a burden to you all. I mean, asking you all to give up your Saturday nights, sometimes our only free night of the week to spend in my depressing apartment, it had been enough.” If only you could show this man how much the team cared for him through your eyes, he would never doubt his worth another day in his life.

“Hotch, the highlight of my week is coming here to be with you all. My family. Watching Henry and Jack play with each other, listening to Spencer and Penelope fight over who the true godparent is, and getting to be on the receiving end of Rossi’s awesome cooking?”

He nodded, mumbling an ‘I know’ a few times under his breath. But he needed to know that as much as you all come here for Jack, you guys care for Aaron and his well being just as much.

“I come here every saturday to make sure that Aaron Hotchner has not dressed in a suit for the sixth day in a row, and to make sure he knows that he’s doing such an amazing job with Jack. That he is being the best father, friend, and boss, that he can be.”

This time, his eyes were locked on yours as you got a real Aaron Hotchner smile out of him, dimples and all. You couldn’t help but make a check mark in the air, the team tally still going strong. He playfully rolled his eyes as you swung your bag across your shoulder.

“So who’s in the lead now?”

“Me, for the last six months. I can’t be dethroned.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, hoping he wouldn’t think too much into your stat keeping.

“Well, that seems like a pretty accurate tally.”

You made sure it was. And selfishly, you hoped no one else could get that beautiful smile to cross his face like you could.

“Thank you for coming over. We both had a lot of fun.”

“I did too. I’m around anytime, my tower building skills are not occupied for many other people.” He let out a laugh as he opened the door for you.

“Goodnight y/n. Let me know when you get home.”

“I will. Night, Hotch.”

You got home in twenty minutes, texting Aaron as you walked through your door. Quickly changing into pajamas and throwing Legally Blonde into the DVD player, your phone dinged at a new message.

It was from Hotch, a picture attached to the message. It was of Jack, towel wrapped around his head, eyes shut from grinning so wide. ‘He wanted me to send this to you. He said, ‘this is how happy I am that y/n was here tonight.’ Thanks again for everything. Goodnight.”

You couldn’t help the tears that pooled in your eyes at the sweet little boy in the picture, and his amazing dad behind the camera.

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites

#aaron hotchner x female! reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

The Wish to Make on a Dying Breath

Heyyyy people. It’s been a while! So this isn’t what I had promised but I wanted to experiment with words a little bit and this is what i came up with. Apparently I do love death as a central theme because this is about death again. Sorry!

Masterlist pinned/in bio

Pairing: Jason Todd x Death!Reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 2422

Warnings: Jason Todd dying a few times but don’t worry it’s not a tragic story, fatal injuries, talk about the afterlife

Summary: You are the powerful entity of Death, keeping watch on the Earth and making sure souls are properly transitioned into the afterlife. One night, you are called in person to a specific death, where you meet the one and only Jason Todd

You have seen a lot of things.

People being born and dying, the rise and fall of empires, the best and the worst of humanity, sometimes co-existing side to side closer than they would even know. There was not a lot that could impress you anymore, but sometimes there were circumstances, lone stars of events that still drew your curiosity. After all, human kind has always been an unpredictable species that managed to take you by surprise from time to time. Your work had changed since you had first been needed. There were too many people on the Earth now for you to handle personally, and you didn’t quite know what factor made you select some people over others.

The night grew silent as you appeared outside an abandoned building on the outskirts of the big city casting a bright light in the distance. You went in, navigating the filthy hallways slowly. It wasn’t long until you reached a bigger room filled with dynamite crates and gasoline puddles on the uneven concrete. In the middle laid someone bloodied and battered and a countdown frozen on the precise moment the last second flipped to zero.

You walked to them and crouched, noticing how it was just a boy. Young, yet wearing a haunted expression that added years to his traits. There was a single tear that had been rolling down his cheek, a tear of defeat and heartbreak, a tear that was too emotionally charged for a teenager. With a heavy sigh, you reached to him and gently cupped his jaw.

In less than a second, you felt his entire body tense like an electrical shock went through it and he leaped back, away from you. His eyes were wide as he frantically looked around, aggressively wiping the tear from his cheek. You stood up slowly, observing him. He sniffled, sending you a wary glare, until his eyes found the countdown. Incomprehension was written all over him in verses and his breathing was ragged.

“Am I dead?”

You have seen a lot of things. Good people pleading to live another day, children not understanding what was happening to them, painful unwilling resignation to cross to the other side. But as he spoke, his voice cracked and scared, you couldn’t help but feel a slow sadness creep inside of you. He was one of these cases that just didn’t feel right, but that had to happen.

“Not yet” You replied softly.

“But I will be”

It wasn’t a question. You smiled sadly.

“Yes” You sighed, glancing at the countdown. “Once this reaches 0, I can only suppose this place will blow up with you in it”

He wiped another tear, smearing blood on his cheek. “Why can’t I feel pain?” He asked. “I can’t move, how am I moving?”

You gave him another smile. “I froze time, and by doing so, created a temporary plane of existence on which you are right now” You explained. “I can bend the rules a little more freely here”

His eyes turned critical. He understood what you were saying, easier than most people you remarked. He was just not sure whether to take your word for it, and his confusion turned into suspicion. “Who are you?”

You didn’t flinch at the harshness of his voice. “Have you not figured it out yet?”

“I dealt with enough meta, I don’t keep track of who can do what” He scoffed weakly, but you could see the fight in him. You admired the courage mask he had hurried to put on, because not a lot of people had the guts to stand up to Death itself like that.

“I see what you mean” You said. “But I am not a meta. I am Death”

His eyes narrowed before he looked up to the ceiling. “Yeah sure” He drawled out, setting his glance back on you. “And I am the crown prince of Denmark”

You chuckled. “You have quite the temper” You pointed out as you began walking around, stopping in front of a crate. A clown face had been spray painted on it, on every one of them. Then, you turned to the boy again, looking him in the eyes. “But I think deep down you know I am telling the truth”

He shifted on his feet. “You don’t look like Death”

“You mean the gravely old man, or the skeleton in the black robes with a scyther?”

He scoffed again.

“My form does change a lot, but those are myths” You answered. “I will appear to you depending on who you are and what you’ve done. Only terrible people are faced with terrible reapers”

“You look like an angel”

He seemed surprised by the words he blurted out as a blush crept onto his face. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, that was clear. You looked down, trying to rein back the smile that wanted to break out on your lips. He was truly a unique case, and you began to understand why you had been called to him.

“It means you deserved an angel” You nodded your head slowly. “You should be proud of your time on Earth. You were a good person, and you did good things”

“Will it hurt?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It’s going to be quick, once I restart the time”

“What will come next?”

“I’m sorry” You apologized. “This is something I can’t tell you”

“What if I don’t want to come?”

“I’m afraid that is not up to you” You sighed.

He seemed disappointed, but nodded nevertheless. “Do your thing”

“Everything’s gonna be okay” You reassured with one last smile, gesturing for him to return to his initial position. He kneeled down, then let himself fall into the ground as he regained the plane of existence he belonged to. And just like that, he was once again frozen along with everything else. You took a moment longer to look at him before you resumed time.

The explosion took everything in its wake, everything but you.

---

The alley was dirty and wet, and even with time stopped, you could just hear pipes leaking and rat rummaging through the garbage.

Gotham hasn’t really gotten better since your last visit.

You walked deeper into the alley until you saw not one, but two figures frozen with the rest of the world. As you approached you noticed a leather jacket covering a red bat, even redder with a torrent of blood drowning it. Then your eyes trailed up to a defined face, scarred but beautiful, dark hair with a white streak hanging on his forehead. His eyelids were half closed as he stared up at the red haired man kneeling beside him, who seemed to be searching his pockets for anything to stop the bleeding.

Even without seeing his eyes completely, you knew who it was.

You approached him, and just like you did the first time, you reached for his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, finding yours quickly. You watched as they widened, letting you see the bright blue that had marked your mind forever. This time, he didn’t jump back.

“It’s you” His voice was no louder than a breath caught in the wind.

“It’s me” You smiled, watching as he sat up straight from the pile of old cardboard boxes he was leaning on.

You had heard of his comeback to life, of course you did. It wasn’t the first time it happened in history, and most times you had to find a way to tip the dominos so the balance could return to the normal. But you couldn’t hide to yourself you sometimes played favourites and let him be for the time being.

“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon”

“The feeling is mutual” There was a small scoff in his voice, but nothing mean or sarcastic. He was looking at you with wonder and curiosity, being way calmer this time around. “Multiple bullets to the chest is not how I envisioned my second death, to be honest”

“Rarely anyone expects that” You hummed.

“Touché” He sighed, looking you up and down. He then frowned. “ I don’t get it”

You waited for him to express his thoughts. You doubted he meant death, or the bullets for that matter.

“You still look like an angel,” He said, blinking. “How do you still look like an angel?”

“Nothing has changed, Jason” You replied. “You are still a good person, who has done good things”

His expression changed. There was a calculating look in his eyes, and emotion brewing under. “You know my name”

“I know most things in the universe” You chuckled. “That includes the names of the souls I reap, and you are hardly forgettable”

A familiar blush creeped on his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “And you think what I’m doing is good?”

“I don’t think so, I know so”

He looked down, letting yet another sigh. He took a moment to collect himself, then nodded slightly. His eyes met yours, a newfound determination in them. “I won’t hold you back anymore, I’m ready. Do your thing”

You smiled again. “I’ll see you again, Jason Todd” You reached for his chest, placing your palm flat on the bullet holes. “Just, not so soon, okay?”

“Wait, what does that mean?” He called as you backed up from him. His body moved itself to retake its position on the right plane of existence, staring at you expectantly. Your lips reached just a little higher, but you didn’t talk. Instead, you unfroze time and let yourself become invisible to the living again.

A second later, you watched as Jason gasped, his eyelids no longer heavy but instead wide open his blue eyes looking around for something that wasn’t there. You didn’t stick around for too long however, going back to work.

You have seen a lot of things. Reapers that ignored the natural balance, granting favors left and right to humans. Reality being bended at will, the balance being upset to the point of an almost reset. However, you knew the balance would be just fine this time. You were Death and Life, you had seen the world change and grow, and you believed it would be better off with Jason in it.

---

It was a sunny day when you found yourself on the porch of a small house in a small town, and you would have been sure you had somehow made a mistake if it hadn’t been for the sense of familiarity that echoed through the call that bekonned you there.

The wind was paused, but you could almost feel the breeze gently blowing through the trees, or the sun rays hitting your face. You looked at the house, then at the door and the knob. You went in.

You navigated slowly through the hallways, observing the lively wallpaper and the pictures hanging on the walls. Smiles and love stared out the frames, giving it back to the world. It was peaceful there, which was a nice change of pace for once. You ended up at the end of the hallway, where you could see through the open door multiple people gathered around the bed, their eyes teary and sad, but not in pain. You found an open space on the bed and sat down, looking at the man laying down.

His face was wrinkled, the traces of old age fusioning with the faded scars in a portrait of his experiences and adventures. His greying hair was mostly hiding the silver streak on his forehead, but you could still see its contrast. His eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful. You gently put your hand on his cheek, waking him up for what you knew would truly be the last time.

His blue eyes opened, and he smiled.

“Hello, Jason” You could see the spark in his eyes, one that was the witness of a happier life. In that moment, you knew he had made the best of it.

“My angel” His voice was a little bit frailer than last time, another sign of time making its mark on him. A warmth spread inside of you as you gently took his hand in yours. “I hope you don’t plan on sending me back out there”

You let out an airy laugh at his playful expression, shaking your head. “No, I can assure you this is the end of the road, for real this time”

“Good” He let out a content sigh. He wasn’t tense, there wasn’t an ounce of fear in his body. All you could feel radiating out of him was peace. “I’m tired. What a life it has been”

“A great one” You nodded. “I hope you’re proud of it”

“So you don’t regret sending me back into the world that night forty-five year ago?”

“Not for a moment” Your smile widened. “I believe it’s the best decision I’ve ever made”

He looked down, like he didn’t think himself worthy of this praise. You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’ve never thanked you” He began after a moment, and you tilted your head. “For helping me out the first time. And for letting me live the second time. You’re the reason I didn’t fear Death as much as I used to”

“I’m glad I could change your mind about me” You chuckled quietly. The sun was hitting him in a perfect angle though the window, painting a golden halo around him. He said you looked like an angel, now he was one too. “And I’m glad this death seems better than the last one”

He let out a shaky breath, looking into every face around him for the last time. “It’s less traumatizing, that’s for sure”

“Are you ready?”

He nodded slowly before smiling at you. “I am”

“Close your eyes” You whispered, and he made himself comfortable in his bed before shutting his eyelids for the last time. He truly looked at peace.

Without moving, you restarted time to feel him let out his last breath. As his family noticed the new stillness of his body, you slipped away from the house without looking back.

You have seen a lot of things.

People being born and dying, the rise and fall of empires, the best and the worst of humanity, sometimes co-existing side to side closer than they would even know. You were Death and Life, you had seen the world change and grow.

Still, Jason Todd had been your favourite part of it.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd x you #Jason Todd #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #red hood x you #outlaws

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vicecityhq · 3 years

Photo

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: minimalist, art, and ethereal . With a slight resemblance to PARK JIMIN of/the BTS.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

Last Name, First Name: Chun Seul-ki ALIAS: New Kid Realm of birth(if earth, nationality): South Korean Age: 25 but appears younger Date of Birth: 23rd February 1995, Thursday. Gender: Male Preferred Pronouns: Species: Half-merfolk, half-human Occupation: The Ivy Lotus; prostitute [ espionage ] Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

VISUAL FILE:

Skin Color: Similar to aqua turquoise when in water, light-skinned in his full human form Eye color: Opal irises Scars: Minor scars from playing outside when he was growing up Piercings: Ears Tattoos: None. Hair color: Black but becomes lighter when in water. Abnormalities: Many in his hometown took him and his appearance as odd; he was considered as a bad omen so he never showed his merfolk form to anybody... Horns/ wings/ etc: Tail of a fish Transformed form: Merfolk in water

PERSONAL FILE:

Powers & Abilities: Merfolk physiology, Hydrokinesis, Telepathy

Traits: Loyal, Distrustful

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth: 23rd February 1995, Thursday.

Date of Death: N/A

Crime Record: A serious stalking/assault accusation back in Jeju which was unfounded. The case was dropped after Seulki’s father settled with the family of the girl Seulki was seeing at the time. There was no truth in the allegations, just parents intensely and negatively opposing the relationship between their daughter and Seulki.

Background/Biography:

Then young fisherman, Chun Minsuk met a mermaid named Yeseul about 27 years ago while out fishing one night during a storm. The meeting was unexpected, both mysterious and chaotic, nevertheless, exciting that encouraged Minsuk to return to the sea in search of the mermaid a few days after. Throughout their secret meetings, a bond of friendship began to form and soon, Yeseul trusted Minsuk enough to venture away from the safety of her home...

The relationship eventually developed into something deeper and soon, both Minsuk and Yeseul found themselves weakened, promising each other the earth and the skies, professing they couldn’t live without the other. They story didn’t last although as Yeseul’s clan objected their daughter’s relationship with a human. They used their power to separate Yeseul from Minsuk meanwhile not being aware that the couple’s relationship soon created a life that was born to be Seul-ki.

One day Yeseul was in Minsuk’s life and the next, she was gone only to re-appear once again for a brief moment, with a child in her arms. Seul-ki was in danger according to Yeseul. Her family and people would not accept the young child who was half-human and the safest place for Seul-ki to be was with his father, Minsuk. Or so they thought...

Seul-ki was very close to his father who loved him unconditionally despite the villagers different way of looking at the half-breed. As he grew older, Seul-ki became undeniably attractive and a lot of islanders both young and old, male and female, fell for him. It caused trouble, emotionally and psychologically at first until one day, Seul-ki came home disheveled, escaping a near assault and threat to his life. Minsuk blamed himself for what was happening to his son; it was a curse he said, a punishment from the gods for defying the rule of nature when a man like himself laid down with an ancient being of the other world...

It was hard for Seul-ki to witness his father going through what he himself cannot explain. People only wanted him for his appearance; they wanted to own him, use him, but not a soul ever really got to know him. His bewitching effect on people was seen by the islanders as something of a bad luck but he endured as long as he had his father on his side. When his father began to loose their business as well as their life savings to protect him whenever he got in ‘trouble’, Seul-ki decided that no amount of love could make it fair for his old man. He then decided to leave, planting a seed of resentment against the people, humans, that outcast him.

Seul-ki ended up in Seoul where he found things to be harder especially without his father’s support. Many times he found himself in tight situations but managed to escape them. The last trouble he got himself into wasn’t like any other and this is how he was introduced to the Ivory Lotus gang who immediately saw his power and potential and most importantly, his weakness, which they used against him, luring him to work for the group as a spy...

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

Seulki knew it all too well, the glances cast towards him by the officer in charged of questioning him... When he was much younger, such attention would’ve caused him to be flustered, even afraid. His experience working at The Ivy Lotus taught him many things about himself... His truth, his capabilities, what he can and cannot do. Most importantly, he discovered what he can make people do.

“Again, officer?” He nonchalantly slacked against the back of the hard chair he’s been sitting on for the last hour, a faint smile teased his lips, hands clasp over a knee, one leg crossed over the other. “Are you gonna write my account this time or are you just gonna keep staring?” His head slightly tilted to the side, eyes turned to slits as he kept them on his target.

There was a moment of silence as if he’d pronounced something unspeakable out to the universe before a loud clearing of the throat shattered the curse. Seul-ki then watched the officer adjust in his seat, an obvious discomfort grew between the other’s legs and he began to wonder, where did the dead Ivy Lotus client rest inside the questioner’s head? The bloody scene in the room next door must be etched in the officer’s memory but instead, the man’s thoughts were filled with carnal visions that involved him and what sort of things the man in uniform wanted to do to him... The ideas in the officer’s head should’ve raised an alarm in Seul-ki, but the half-breed saw it as an opportunity to wiggle out of the trouble. At least for the time being...

“I got out of the shower,” Seulki once again began his version of the events, his recount was slower this time, adding details unnecessary to the investigation but would be helpful to him - and the gang - in diverting attention. “You know? Hot night...” The robe he still wore from hours ago after his shower was purposely left to slip down one shoulder, exposing skin. There wasn’t much effort put into his work after that; the officer walked out of the room vey much aroused and confused, releasing Seul-ki from the questioning allowing him to do actual work, focusing on the urgent matter: who is the culprit?

#vcaccepted #vcivorylotus #krp #krpg #new krp #oc krp #gang krp #rp #rpg #park jimin #acceptances #bts #park jimin fc

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padalickingood · 5 years

Text

-NEED HELP MOVING OUT-

Hi everyone! This one’s gonna be a long one but I hope I can implore you all to take a quick minute of your time to read this and hopefully share it with others TvT. I’ve really been taking my time procrastinating from writing this because I never liked talking much about my own personal situation and dumping that on people, but I’ve unfortunately reached a point where I'm a bit desperate for any kind of help If I am going to try and make this happen.

Recently I’ve started a serious goal of saving up enough money in order to move out by early next summer. I have attempted to make plans to move from my family home many times in the past couple of years and unfortunately have never managed to get anywhere near to achieving that goal due to my financial situation. Things have gotten increasingly stressful and emotionally exhausting in my current situation and I’ve officially hit that point where I’m willing to ask for assistance online.

As a freelance artist, even with my Etsy, Patreon, ko-fi, and commission work combined I barely manage to make enough for basic living essentials which doesn’t include any sort of insurance or homeowner/apt owner expenses. Currently I do my very best to pay for as much as I can on my own and even so I still require support from my parents by them allowing me to live with them and them providing internet etc. What I pay for out of pocket is limited to things I need personally such as food, clothes, basic living supplies, art/store supplies etc. I’ve also recently limited myself from buying anything that is not completely necessary for essential living like eating out, movies, buying gifts over a certain price limit for friends, as well as canceling any travel plans from here on out.

At this point I feel like It’s important for me to explain why I am a freelance artist as opposed to having any other type of job that could potentially be easier and pay better. This may be a bit of a tl;dr but I feel like it should at least be mentioned because the impact it’s had. Several years ago (I wanna say 2013 ish?) I dropped out of my community college because of essentially having a breakdown. The entire experience had left such a negative impact on me that my mood had very noticeably 180’d from high school to 2nd year of college. It was probably the closest I've come to being any level of depressed, which is not a word I throw around lightly as it’s something I don’t think I've felt anywhere near the level of those who struggle with it. Overall those years were so incredibly demoralizing and difficult for me that I made the tough decision of leaving school, something I had never even considered doing in my past (I never even skipped class in high school up until last day of senior year lol). Deciding to leave when I did though was probably the right decision because to this day, I still feel the lasting negative effects those years had on me. After I left school, I picked up a retail job and worked there for about a year and half. It wasn’t something I was really eager to do but was necessary as I wasn’t going to school anymore. With no degree though a minimum wage job was my only real option. Unfortunately, my experiences working weren’t all that positive either (as something I'm sure many of you also experience). I struggled to maintain motivation and continued to feel incredibly negative. It got so bad that it effected my relationships with family and friends as it kept me in a very antisocial mood. I ended up quitting that job shortly after and decided to try and go full freelance. Ever Since then I've worked on building up my store, commissions and anything else I could to try and make money from my art. To this day I still struggle with building up my online presence to the point where I can make a living off of it, but one thing that drastically changed for the better was my mood. My mental health has always been an absolute priority for me and I make a conscious effort to never force myself into anything that I know will have a negative impact on my health, which is why I dropped out of college and quit that job. I knew that if I stayed there it would have absolutely gotten so bad that It would have left much deeper scars than it has. And Although working in Freelance is no easy task and comes with its own degrees of stress, I find it far more rewarding and worth managing that stress.

But as a result of those years I’ve been afraid of going back to either school or a minimum wage job. I know if I return to a job like that it will pull me back into a mental space that I'm just not willing to sacrifice myself to, and as far as College goes, I simply can’t afford it. However, with deciding to become a freelance artist I've dedicated my time to trying to build myself back up with my art and create a presence online where I can simultaneously do what I know makes me happy while also earning a living off of it. My progress has been slow and over the years I've felt like I've hit a standstill which brings me to my overall goal of wanting to move out. As I mentioned before I had been making attempts to move since around the time I worked in retail. Things haven’t panned out since then as I am still struggling to try and build up my store/Patreon/overall customer basis online. Unfortunately, also within these past few years tensions have been at a pretty constant high in my household because of it. There’s an added weight of still being so reliant on my parents after all these years and it being used against me, that the stress I’ve accumulated from it has kept me from being as productive as I would like. Recently with some current events I’ve just about hit a breaking point and am willing to do anything I can in order to save up so I can officially move out. I’m incredibly tired emotionally from still being here and I’ve started to take serious steps to making this move happen. Luckily I’ve been able to find a friend I can move out with so I won’t be paying rent on my own and I’ve calculated how much I could potentially make a month if I stick to a packed workload schedule. It’s not ideal but I’ve committed to this freelance work and I’m willing to work as hard as I can to reach my goal, and if all goes well then by this time next year i’ll be able to move out.

In writing this I hope that I can ask for support in helping me raise enough so I can try and move out of an unhealthy situation into hopefully something better.

And to be clear I'm not doing a kickstarter or gofund me. That’s just simply not something this warrants. I know have options and I know that all I need to do is to work much much harder than someone with a 9to5 in order to earn what I need. The only reason I decided to write this out is to share WHY your support is so incredibly important to me and why sharing my work to anyone you can is very essential to my livelihood. Right now, I am very far away from earning nearly enough on a monthly basis in order to move out within a year, but I'm hoping that can change for the better. I simply ask for those who support my work to continue to do so and for those who haven’t and are absolutely financially able to consider supporting my work and share it with anyone you know. Whether it’s commissions, store merch, Patreon rewards, ko-fi etc. Every tiny bit helps me so much!

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Here are the ways you can support me!

✪ Patreon: With the cheapest tier being 2$ a month you guys can get early access to all of my artwork a month in advance as well as other bonus content at the 2$ and above tier that is exclusive to patrons only. I have details about my rewards and goals on my Patreon that you don’t have to pay to view! Simply visit my homepage and browse through the rewards and bio to see if it interests you!

✪ Ko-fi: I recently added a moving goal fund there which will show its progress with each kofi donation! The goal is ambitions and I don’t really expect to reach it but I wanted to just aim high and try and earn as much as I can. Also, I do sketch commissions there occasionally and may do other types of small commissions. So, if you’d like to support me while also getting something for yourself keep an eye out for my announcements on my twitter!

✪ Commissions/adoptables: I’m going to officially be opening up my commissions soon but before that I wanted to try my hand at selling some adoptables! I’ll have more information about them after I finish up my current batch of commissions but I'm going to try and stick to those for now with some small YCH commissions sprinkled in between. After those though I’ll be opening up regular commissions again ^^

✪ Etsy: I’m actually not sure If I'm going to keep my store up for much longer since I get charged a fee on each listing but before it closes you could help support me by buying merch from my store!

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And lastly, I want to thank everyone who took the time to read through this and for those who follow me/support me in any way that you can. Even your reblogs/retweets on my work mean so much to me and help me so much I could never fully express how much I’m thankful to have such an amazing and lovely following of people <3 Thank you for your time

#I honestly don't know what to tag this as #signal boost #aib's rambling #patreon #ko fi #ko fi donations #already want to delete this hhhh......

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pilferingapples · 5 years

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Beeble Mis 4.2b: At Least Enjolras Doesn’t Go To A Brothel

Part One, focusing on Cosette’s side of the story, Here

Part Two(a) , focusing on the first bit of the Marius line in this story, Here

Again, this is not gonna be a Happy or especially Orderly Recap; I’ve seen this once and this is as much for my own processing/sorting as anything. Episode Four starts with Cosette as a teenager in the convent, and ends pretty much right after the Gorbeau raid. So that’s our …framing set of events, here, because I have no idea what year it is or how much time any of this is supposed to be taking?

This section covers the Marius-focused path of events.

ANYWAY HERE WE GO, under the cut for abuse, domestic abuse, child abuse, sexual abuse, weird incest vibes, discussions of lots of things and me probably cursing a lot! There is a LOT going on in this one! So much that I’m actually gonna try cutting it into two parts, a Cosette Recap/Reaction post and a Marius Recap/Reaction post! here’s …well, here’s some things that sure did happen with Marius.

Back at the Gorbeau house, Eponine calls Marius over to the peephole between their apartments and does a Sexy Keyhole Striptease for him. Marius licks his lips. That part is not, as far as I can tell, any sort of dream. That happened. Even if I could believe it was meant to be a dream, it happened in the show. The show just made a starving desperate abused teenager ~~sexy for the presumed enjoyment of the viewer, and made sure we knew Marius was enjoying it. sarcasm/ How Modern and Universal. What a way to fix that flimsy character, you show ‘em, Davies./sarcasm (It’s been hours and I’m still horrified.)

Over the course of the next few-- days? weeks? anyway those two times we see Cosette in the park-- Marius falls in love with Cosette--as “detailed” in the Cosette half of this recap (hahah it’s funny because it’s not detailed, not to compare adaptations but it’s about as fast as the damn musical and if nothing else this show had more time, wtf).

Marius loses track of Cosette after Valjean drags her out of the Luxembourg, mopes, and takes his lonely soul to the Not!Amis, where Not!Grantaire makes an appalling comment about how after the Revolution they can find this Nice Girl and all have a go at her, Marius rightly tries to kill him a bit, and then Courfeyrac and Grantaire (as far as I could tell, Bossuet was gone for this scene) insist on going to Sceaux. Enjolras, keeping at least this much of his characterization and a little bit of narrative awareness, says he has better things to do, and warns Marius that Marius should find better things too.

And then they take Marius whoring!

Seriously, they take him to a brothel. A pretty tacky brothel at that, with people just gettin’ it onwards in a single room. Eponine is there! The camera work is wonky! Maybe Marius has been roofied! GRANTAIRE AND COURFEYRAC TAKE MARIUS TO A BROTHEL.

This scene? in the book? They take him to “the ball at Sceaux” , which was a nice outdoor party where debutantes went to socialize and maybe meet with potential suitors. So you know, the kind of women Cosette might be expected to hang out with, instead of barely-dressed aggressive prostitutes, what the hell , show.

And then it’s time for the Pontmercy Wet Dream! He imagines Cosette slowly undressing, then Eponine comes and grabs him and shoves his head into her cleavage and tells him to “kiss it” , over and over. It just. Goes on. Then he wakes up horrified.

Gosh I’m SO glad we got all this instead of , say, Bossuet saving Marius from expulsion, or Marius living with Courfeyrac, or Marius fighting to get through college poverty and learn new languages, or any more time with Mabeuf, or more focus on Gavroche, or THE ACTUAL BALL AT SCEAUX! sarcasm/What a GREAT use of time! What MARVELOUS pacing! What a Modern and Universal take on this story, that is definitely not wildly alienating at all! /sarcasm

Marius and Eponine meet (the next day? A week later?? I have no idea! Time is so wacky and whimsical in this!) and she gives him the letter from her dad; he asks if she’s really starving, which is a hell of a thing to ask a woman who is blatantly really poor. She says they don’t eat much. He gives her money. She talks about her crappy life some , makes it very clear that she is indeed a cheap (as in, available low-cost) prostitute, calls him a gent, then FORCIBLY KISSES HIM, because we can’t have even one Nice Thing anymore. Then she takes his stale bread and leaves. (Importantly, she never talks about knowing how to read, and does NOT leave her note about the cops coming.)

Through The Peephole of Providence and Girls Gone Wild, Marius watches Eponine return to her family. Let me say the exchanges and dynamics here are good; as I said before, this show believes in hate and anger and pain, and that’s what the Thenardiers are. Mme T has wonderfully captured the level of beaten-down resignation she has in the book, where she still manages to actually care about her daughters in a threadbare way but doesn’t have the energy or richness of feeling left to either care about or argue with her husband.

The next bit--gad it comes SO CLOSE to being book accurate and thus MAKING A LICK OF SENSE. Eponine gives JVJ the note, JVJ ....knowingly brings Cosette to the home of her abusers.... but then Thenardier immediately recognizes Valjean and pretty well tell him so ....

and then the Thenardiers just...let him go. And Cosette. And make the arrangements to meet later. Why?? Why give Valjean that clue? Why...any of this? (Also, it’s unclear if Eponine recognizes Cosette in any of this, but boy howdy it’s very clear that Cosette recognizes Eponine and is horribly triggered by it , not that anyone, including Valjean, gives a damn about Cosette’s mental or emotional health. s/She’s so flimsy and stupid, she probably has it coming, right, Davies? /s)

And then...

okay listen. I wish I cared more about this Gorbeau Raid. I wish it had held my attention. This is, in the novel, one of the most tense, dramatic gatherings of characters, with so much thematic and narrative drama all OVER. I love the Gorbeau raid! ...in the book. And in a lot of adaptations!

But this...this was just Sound and Fury Signifying Nothing. Marius and Javert at the police station are almost great! But they take away all the little touches of characterization and flourishes of dialogue that make the scene so fun (if there’s one theme besides Degrading Sex in this series, it’s that there is NO FUN ALLOWED), and further ruin Marius’ character by having him tell Javert he’s scared (Marius is an Awkward Very Young Adult, all spilling over with touchy pride and desperation to be a hero to the woman he’s smitten over! He would NEVER. Especially since this police station is full of witnesses!) Javert doesn’t burn his coattails, he doesn’t have his little musings on “the artists” , he doesn’t have his deep authoritarian reverence of Order to talk about in the first place this time, he’s just got his Valjean sense tingling.

The actual kidnapping and raid are a confused jumble; the jumbly jumpcuts, presumably meant to give a sense of Chaos, are in overdrive, here, and Chaos they sure do deliver. Some isolated images that still stood out: Montparnasse, here instead of with Eponine, HORRENDOUSLY dressed,and threatening to kill Valjean and his little dog too; the burning brand happening in like five seconds; Thenardier announcing his whole backstory; Marius ACTUALLY FIRING THE GUNS, because Eponine can’t matter any at all, even as a note; Eponine and Azelma rushing back in to the room because Azelma wants to protect her mother, even though Eponine tries to stop her and protect Azelma( the first Real Feeling I got off this episode, honestly. That was Good.) There’s no Hat Moment with Javert; he just charges in with everyone else (absolutely ALL the building menace and dramatic reversals that SHOULD be in this scene are gone, cut or emotionally destroyed by pacing). Valjean scarpers out the window and then like...just hangs out on a ledge for a while...while Javert looks for him ominously..and then gets called back into the room JUST BEFORE SEEING VALJEAN, LE GASP. It’s ...busy, and sadly, not much else.

After everything is over, Marius goes into the Thenardier’s room for...some reason, and we get to see Gavroche (who’s been at the corner of view in a few other scenes). Who proudly introduces himself as A THIEF, AND THENARDIER’S SON AND HEIR, and just like that, my last hope for a solidly represented character is gone. He banters with Marius a bit, and then we cut back to Valjean falling across the floor at his house and into Cosette’s arms. Aaand that’s it!

So that all sure happened. Why? When? I don’t know. But I’ll still be watching it next week, because I WILL SEE IT DONE, it will not defeat me! But gad...if this were anything BUT Les Mis, I’d have walltossed it two episodes ago, and doubly so now.

#Beeble Mis 4: There Are Dreams That Should Not Be #Beeble Mis #long post #I am So Tired #but I AM DONE

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nyruratchet · 5 years

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Notes 4 - The Morning After

“People. People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.”

There are pills for straight couples to avoid pregnancy after a few moments of bliss, there are pills to help people stay safe from contracting HIV, there are pills to recorrect the chemical imbalance for people struggling with mental issues; there are pills for EVERYTHING, but no one has derived a magical pill to fix the pain one feels when forced to wake up the morning after valentine’s day alone.

Actually, this problem doesn’t just exist on Valentine’s day. But, seeing as how I’m perpetually single, I can attest to the fact that this day is the most painful (all other holidays come second). Just yesterday, someone asked a question, “yall fall in love with niggas y’all meet on apps??”

My response: Honestly, what are the other options? This is a legitimate question...

Him: Go meet someone in real life...apps aren’t real life! You don’t know that nigga til u see him. In real life, u see everything you as over and over on the app.

Me: You do (meet them), but those are the same guys on the apps. And no one gives you the time of day at bars, events, etc. So, ur stuck with friends of friends, coworkers (nope) and apps...really (WTF?)

Him: Idk who y’all meeting but niggs stay tryin to see wassup on the low when I’m out...especially the damn gym!

Now, I then had to check him and remind him that, just because YOU are so attractive and have thousands of followers that men just flock to you, THAT IS NOT the average gay man’s reality. Just recently a black man on Grindr says he doesn’t like black men. Only whites and latinos. Yep, this is the world I live in. So when you all think I’m crazy to think I’m not in someone’s league, please know there are factors in the chess game that I’m aware of that you have NO CLUE about. Being the darker brother in the gay community is not easy and constantly I am made to feel like I’m not worthy of inclusion in it. Being dark is not acceptable. Nor is being skinny. Nor is not having a BBC (which is all anyone seems to value from us). Nor is being open to love; I’ve been faulted way too many times for that tbh. Almost as many times as I’ve been skinny-shamed or considered fem. Guys in our community are looking more for TS girls than black men. Period. I see “girls” on Grindr far too much. THERE, I said what I said. Grindr’s way of dealing with this influx...ask me to list myself as a CIS man. NO THE FUCK I WILL NOT! I’m a man. These labels are too much. can’t meet men in bars or apps or work. So, let me know...HOW?

To lose my virginity I had to get on craigslist and whore myself out like a rentboy (no money involved) only to get this catfish older man to respond. I was 21 years old and saw this as my only chance before moving to NY. Guys throughout my life up until this point (as i wrote about in my last post) had been ignoring me. I was invisible in the world of gay sex. I might as well have been a eunuch or a monk. I was always the “friend”...still am. So, I took this less then adequate gentleman and let him penetrate me for the first time; give me my first kiss (yuck, it was awful); and teach me a few things. I thought, after this, I’ll never have to settle for less than I deserve...BOY was I wrong.

Back to the part about me being invisible for a moment. Throughout high school, people knew I was gay. I told a few guys and expressed interest and they paid me no attention. COME TO FIND OUT, my (at the time good) friend Jonathan, had slept with a quite a few of them. (Backstory, I fell for Jonathan, he spurned me too, we became great friends, he then transitioned into being a woman, and now we don’t really talk). So, When I found this out, I was devastated. TO THIS DAY, I will never understand why I was not enough. I was SOOOOO nice to these guys. Dustin used to get picked on in middle school, and I used to stand up for him. Nick was the most beautiful boy in the world in high school with a smile that could like up the darkest soul and I would always root for him, etc. But, I wasn’t who they wanted. I mean, You think I’m a good guy now, you should have known me back then. I was such a kind spirit. My soul is so dark now and I don’t think that will ever be rectified.

These next instances are the reasons I will never be untainted. THESE STORIES ARE NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. If you don’t want to cry, feel sorry for me, or worry, stop reading now.

I have been abused mentally, physically, and emotionally. These stories are in sequential order.

When I was traveling once, I was drinking and felt like fulling one of my fantasies. I don’t remember why, but i know that I hadn’t been touched in a WHILE. And for a person who needs that, just a moment where someone can use you to “get off” is enough to make it through the night. One fantasy that is very popular in the gay community of being fucked by visitor who comes in the unlocked door and fucks you, then leaves after he finishes. No strings attached (NSA), photos presented beforehand (pics), usually some time of safeguards in place. I was new, and it was my fault. This guy sent me pictures on whatever app I was using, think it was Craigslist. He told me all his information, I told him where I was staying and said I’d be blindfolded, ready for him to fuck me when he walked in. As SOON as he walked in, I heard the door close and lock and I had a feeling something was wrong. He came up behind me, naked and grabbed my neck chokingly and SHOVED into me. And this guy’s body was WAY bigger than what he said. He was chub/stocky and nothing like what he had sent me. I tried to tell him to stop, that I didn’t want HIM. But clearly, he had done this before. And this was before catfishing was a THING. So, he wasn’t going to stop no matter how much I struggled. So, I resulted that this was a part of the “fantasy” that I had signed up for. I could NOT call this rape. I will never call that rape. Yes, someone lied to me, wouldn’t stop when I said so, but I was totally in the wrong here. I put myself in a situation to be taken advantage of by a stranger. That is one of the things that makes this fantasy so hot. Just happens in my case, that it went terribly awry, So, I went limp and let him finish. He left. I locked the door and took down the posting I had made. My throat was on fire and he had pulled my hair too hard. But he was gone and I was alone again.

Another time in a hotel room, laying over in Washington, Dulles I was getting ready for bed. I was hungry, so put my iphone on the charger, grabbed my food and went for the microwave on another floor. When I came back, my phone was charged enough to check my facebook. As soon as I opened it up, on my timeline it says “PAUL IS IN A RELATIONSHIP”. I said, wait...what? My Paul? the one who I helped move? The one I got a xmas tree for? The one I held while crying? The one I protected from himself? The one whose bed I was JUST in? The guy I had been talking to like every day? My heart was beating out of my chest and I couldn’t breathe. Now, I’m not nor have I ever been naive. We weren’t a couple. He wan’t mine. But I wanted him, made it known. He said lots of things that didn’t add up to much. But, I was in his life, so I accepted that until he could give me more. But when I saw THAT status. I LOST it! Why? because he had told me WORD FOR WORD: “I don’t want a relationship right now. I have some little twink guy from this broadway show who likes me, but I’m not interested.” I always did status checks to make sure I didn’t get blindsided. But alas, here I was despite all my effors. My body went NUMB. Tears ran down my face. I dropped to my knees and asked God or whomever was in charge of things WHY the FUCK was it not me?? Am I not cute enough? Am I too poor? Not successful enough? What did I do? I immediately texted my friend Ant and told her what was up and that I was ready to end it. Before I knew it, I was on a 3 way call. What no one knows is, at one point I was bathroom, in the tub, with a razor, a full bottle of advil, a bottle of wine to hopefully make the blood run faster. I had never contemplated killing myself. This was a knee-jerk reaction to someone I loved with every fiber of my being choosing to give his love to someone else who didnt even have to try! If he could throw me away after I gave all I had and more that I didn’t even know I had in me, and he STILL didn’t want me, how is anyone else gonna love/choose me? So, I was ready to end it. Cuz I knew, this would not be the last time this would happen; guys don’t seem to care who they hurt or how. Paul texted me and said he didn’t owe me any explanation “dude”. But my friends talked me down from that ledge I was prepping to jump off. I also was terrified of doing it. I didn’t know if it would even work. And I didnt want my family to go through that. Till this day, that is why I could never commit suicide. I do think about it, yes. My life sucks. And try as I may, I don’t see a reason for me being here. And yes, I’ve been to many therapists ever since college. Its not a problem that can be talked out. I suffer from depression that can only be assuaged by fixing the problem; the problem is my life. (love, money, music). So, I just try to keep on. I’m not bi-polar; although, sometimes I wish I were. That is a diagnosis that can be managed with medication. My life, cannot be managed. But I’m trying...I am trying.

Now, as I mentioned before, not a big fan of coworker dating/fucking/etc. HOWEVER, there are 2 people I have always said I’d try if I had the chance. Because they may be reading this (doubt it, but I will fight my petty urges), We’ll just call them Trip and Kurt. Now, Trip and I have been messaging off and on doing this whole cat and mouse thing for years. He winds up telling me he’s interested but we couldn’t tell anyone at work; which I agreed to. And would have tried to keep his confidence, FOR HIM. He is really against work relations as well. This all started with grindr and just escalated to us talking off and on. Finally one day, he texts ME and asks “Hey sexy, you in NY?” I wasn’t. Was working. But I never post my whereabouts on FBOOK so, the question was warranted. He said he really wanted to fuck. Our paths kept not being able to cross. So, LONG story short, I rearranged my schedule and we set up a “date” at his place when I got back. I was working a redeye. Told him I’d get home, run my errands take a quick nap and be over to make a full day of it. Trip agrees with everything. I do exactly what I say (I’m a Leo, it’s what we do. We’re consistent. We’re straight forward). I pick up a bottle of $20+ wine to show him I really give a shit and to be courteous because a good southern boy doesn’t arrive at someone’s house empty handed. I knew he had been done wrong and I wanted to put my first foot forward, even if it was just sex he wanted. I message him when I was on the way back home...no response. Ok, I wanna shower. Text him again...tells me he’s out. I say, “ok well just tell me when to head over. I’ll be at home” He says “ok sounds good baby.” Ok, so I take my hour nap so I don’t miss his text. (For me, you KNOW that is no small feat!) I get up and he still hasn’t messaged me. So I wait...and wait...and wait for 5 hours. Then I text him “Ok...well, headed to bed I guess. Hope you had a good night. (he’s scheduled to work the next day so I KNOW no late fun was happening) But beforehand, my spidey senses were tingling. So, I got on facebook. OH, he’s out living his best life! Fuck MY time right? Awesome. I had a drink then went to sleep. Next day, he messages me that he fell asleep after getting home. BOO, so...you left your friends (after you went out...yeah, I saw the check-ins), hopped a train, got home, and never NOT ONCE thought to text me to tell me a damn thing?! But you say “sorry” and I’m supposed to just accept that? No. I wanted you past the point of that barrier I placed up barring all guys I worked with. You just took a big dump on that AND made me feel shitty in the process. I took that bottle of white wine to the head by myself at some point btw...

Now Kurt, he’s special...I met him and was immediately entranced. To keep this one shorter, he also told me HE DIDNT WANT TO DATE ANYONE. Guys need to stop telling these motha fuckin lies! Ok, so I’ll be your friend. But I really like him. So, I’m minding my own business and facebook again notifies me, Kurt is in a relationship. OH? with WHOM? Oh! someone we work with? Someone you met AFTER ME?! Interesting...now, when this boy confessed a secret to me, I was totally loving and told him my past experiences and that he’s and amazing person, etc. So, the next time we work together, I don’t mention his new BF. He brings it up and explains how and why he fell for him. WOULDNT YOU KNOW IT, the boyfriend said the same thing I did about his secret but just BEFORE he happened to conceal it. I tried so hard not to roll my eyes when he told me that. It was like a smack in the face. If you don’t think I’m cute, just say that. But don’t talk about how someone’s heart won you over. Cuz I was here loving on you before. I went back up to my room (tipsy) turned on some Aaliyah and cried myself to sleep. I am never gonna be enough for these boys/men. I saw that now. Paul had recently resurged and re-exited my life after telling me he loved me. I WAITED for that! He was the first man to ever say those words. And they were supposed to mean something! And shortly after...he ghosted me again. So, I’m feeling pretty worthless at this point.

No matter what I do, I’m never good enough. I keep trying to be the best me and there is always someone there saying, nah...this other dude is better. Swipe left. “Thank you, Next” (I don’t like Ariana Grande btw.) I have this fear that when I’m old, some guy I’ve loved forever will find me and say, I married someone else. He’s gone now, he did me wrong. We can be together now. Like I’m only going to be someone’s choice after their first choices have bit the dust. That is NOT okay with me.

So, here I am on Valentine’s day trying to explain to all of you who have someone to “come home to”. EVEN if you don’t like Vday, do not pretend that this day doesn’t matter or make people feel a certain way. I’m alone AND I’m lonely. Don’t tell me I shouldn’t feel this unless you tell me how to not feel that way; and your explanation better not involve friends. Sorry, friends have their own issues and while checking in and venting is great, they can’t be your life support. They can’t help you take care of your heart. Especially if they are married, have kids, etc. You’re the single 3rd wheel.

I tried to take myself to the movies. The movies I wanted were all sold out by couples. Dinner, tables full. So, I ate leftovers from yesterday’s dinner I cooked and am halfway through this bottle of wine. You cannot fault a person for wanting love. Finding it may have been somewhat easy/happenstance for you. And I try not to fault YOU for that. Everything has been hard for me. Literally, everything. That’s the only reason I’m still here. Because when something happens, I yell, scream, vent, handle it like Olivia Pope, then continue on. No one is there at night when i lay down. No one said Happy Valentine’s day to me today. No one is gonna smile at me when i wake up in the morning. Nope, I have to survive my morning after by myself. No pill in hand to help.

“Children needing other children, yet letting our grown-up pride hide all the need inside...acting more like children, than children.”

#valentines #love #unrequited love #dating #relationships #wine #sexy #fantasy #blog #broadway #feelings #mental health #survival

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penelope1730 · 7 years

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The Six Thatcher’s: There be redemption.

I might be in the minority here, but I liked BBC Sherlock, season four debut, The Six Thatchers. Honestly, the past three years felt like a century where the return of episodic Sherlock was concerned, so I confess my expectations were open to just about anything. Three years of chilling out & time spent in reflection, along with a whole lot of distance regarding 'what's next' on Sherlock can do wonders for one's perspective.

I was never a big fan of Mary, especially after the whole shooting Sherlock thang, but I grew to respect her and even began to appreciate qualities she brought out in other characters. She also precipitated growth & intimacy that might not have otherwise happen, or gone a very, very slow route. More on that later.

I came to accept that Mary and Sherlock have a special bond. They are kindred spirits - both fully understanding who the other is with an appreciation that few might be able to truly 'get.' Mary's death, without question, has devastated Sherlock beyond his normal ability to reason & process and, knowing this, Mary has given him a case. A task to help him focus his mind - give his brain something to do, because without it his "brain rots."

Mary did not make a posthumous video on a whim. As others have pointed out, she made this after Moriarty's dramatic 'Miss Me?' announcement and I suspect just before she left on her pilgrimage regarding the resurfacing of AGRA. The opening and prevailing theme to The Six Thatchers was An Appointment In Summara...all signs pointed to 'someone is gonna die.' Is it that surprising that Mary, given everything that's been shown, would ever truly feel free & comfortable living a 'normal' life? Yes, she wanted it and while it lasted they were the best years of her life, but she also knew and accepted the shadows that lurk in her background. You simply cannot live the life Mary has and be oblivious to its on-going dangers. What we wanted for her, and the momentum gained from the life she led, might be diametrically opposed, but her death was not a plot device. It was the consequence of living; the life she lived. Just like her conical character from the books, the modernized Mary is dead. There's no playing opossum here. But, BBC Sherlock is never without surprises and it wouldn't be out of place to see her show up in flashbacks.

We see what we want to see in these characters, in spite of how layered and flawed, & sometimes even deviant they are. We become attached, cheer them on, wanting them to prevail no matter the circumstances. But, I've come to trust that these characters know themselves better than I do and, as in real life, I must allow others to make their own choices...good, bad, indifferent & downright tragic. I don't believe Mary wanted to die - at all - but understood that her meeting in Summara was always a prevailing possibility and, should the time come, would accept her fate. Mary made a selfless move by placing herself before Sherlock and taking a bullet. For her, that split second decision was a redemptive act, regardless that she ignored the consequences: "Did I ever say I'm sorry for shooting you that time...I'm really sorry. I think we're even now, okay?" Even in her dying moments Mary wanted Sherlock to know her previous act of betrayal, no matter how she justified her actions, never strayed far from her thoughts. In her mind - she owed him.

Since season 3, episode 2 - The Sign of Three - the audience has been led to focus on Sherlock's vow to always protect John, Mary and their baby. Until The Six Thatchers we didn't notice that Mary had made a quiet, albeit private, vow to herself to do the same for Sherlock, John and Rosie. She said this much in her parting letter to move danger away from the three of them: "I'm not running, my darling. I will return. I just don't want you and Sherlock hanging on my gun arm." She was not going to stand by and watch Sherlock get shot twice - not on her watch. Either way, the end result sucked for everyone. This event, Mary's death, in my opinion, is the catalyst for Sherlock and John to become the more mature characters known from canon.

Whether it's obvious or not, Mary made this band of high functioning, danger seeking misfits a family. She brought them together not just out of circumstantial need; Sherlock did that well enough on his own. Mary brought them together emotionally & sentimentally, along with giving them purpose to forge a bond that would not ever be easily broken. Yes, the 'family' is currently experiencing a 'fall out' - but it's temporary. They're grieving and blaming (John and possibly even Sherlock blaming himself) and it'll all get sorted out. They each have a key role to play in the others healing process. Space and distance, while not always desired or comfortable, does have its rewards.

Mary chose Molly and Mrs. Hudson as godmothers. Effectively making them surrogate aunt and grandmother. Now, in Mary's passing, those roles will take on even greater importance and need, possibly leaving Molly to fulfill a 'mother-like' role. Mary also knew John would choose Sherlock as godfather - a role he would not refuse or take lightly. They are forever bound by baby Rosamund - a commitment that none of them will shirk. Side note: As a fleeting HC, I've wondered if Molly won't end up raising Rosie? I can think of numerous scenarios on why and how this might come about, although the details are best saved for another discussion.

As with all Sherlock episodes, new questions rise faster than snark regarding the U.S. presidential election. Still, The Six Thatchers provided loads of answers. James Moriarty is dead. His posthumous recording was made before he took his life on Bart's rooftop. Oh yeah, there's a game in play but we get to bide our time right along with Sherlock.

Sherlock's off the hook regarding Magnussen! No need for any official pardon. That detail was neatly managed. I'm probably one of the few people who think he never should have been charged in the first place, but that's a different meta.

Sherlock likes dogs. And babies - even if they do see the world as a mystery. And he's calling baby Rosie, 'Watson.' How freaking cute is that?!? I've rewound that scene a few times it's. so. darn. adorbs.

Knowing and understanding their personalities and propensity toward boredom, along with a heightened need for danger (and assassination), Sherlock also kept Mr. and Mrs. Watson busy.

Now, this might seem surprising but, to me, it's clear as day that both Sherlock and Mary knew John was teetering on the brink of an affair. They may have reached this conclusion from different perspectives, but both were giving him space to figure it out, process what he was going through, and choose. John was not happy, no matter what we wanted to see and is catching hell-fire and damnation for this, which is too bad. From my perspective, that is. I'm not his moral arbiter and I really can't imagine what it's like standing in his shoes; especially having gone through three years of tragic & intense experiences...most of which he had no say or control over. There's really no need to make a case for all of that is there? Other than to say life with Mary would never be normal, no matter what it looks like on the outside.

Nevertheless, after the birth of their baby, things are beginning to stabilize. But. Not. Really. It doesn't take long before John is back on cases with Sherlock, sometimes usurped by Mary and even one jaunt with little Rosamund. Aspects of John's life that were inherently his, prior to meeting and marrying Mary, are now shared experiences. By temperament and savvy, Sherlock and Mary are well suited for each other when it comes to cases, at times leaving John holding the short end of the stick, along with the rest of us trying to catch up. This isn't to rail against Sherlock or Mary - just presenting what's been shown. John definitely feels sidelined, which was obvious from the balloon head in his chair, even if it did provide comic relief. Of course this isn't the first time John's absence has gone unnoticed by Sherlock...although things are very different now. I think the weight of John's life is sinking in deeper and deeper. Nothing's wrong with that, except the inner conflict he's feeling. Choices made from conflict, or lack of awareness, can sometimes be dubious, as seems to be the case here.

So, along comes a sweet, young Irish Scottish redhead, flirting with John on the bus. I bet the attention felt good. And, why shouldn't it? Who wouldn't like being noticed, especially when you're not feeling very noticeable. John was flattered, but didn't think much of it - although he should have! At least that's what I thought in my mind. Unlike many people, I wasn't concerned with the moral implications. I was thinking - "You're John Watson, you hang out with Sherlock Holmes and married to a former assassin. What the hell are you doing?! Almost nothing in your world is what it appears to be. Do not be taken in by flattery, John! You should seriously find this chick suspicious. Omg, you're not listening! No wonder Sherlock gets frustrated. Join a soccer league, or watch porno, if you feel unmanly, but don't trust the redhead. Ugh, look at that - she's sitting next to a picture of Culvertson (Toby Jones), next week's baddie. You should know from His Last Vow that this will bite you on the ass if you follow through. You will regret this. Trust me, you will. And, aren't you forgetting that your bff and wife will immediately know about this flirtatious dalliance? That's. what. they. do. They know things. Oh, for Christ's sake. Whatever, John."

Yeah, that's what I said to no avail. So, while everyone else is upset that John is acting like an asshat and betraying Mary, I'm wondering about the chick on the bus and who she really is. Mary is the least of my worries at this point. Since she's fully aware of what's going on, as is Sherlock, either one of them can stop that crap before it truly takes off. If they want. And don't think for a moment they're not capable.

Then there's Molly and Sherlock. They're officially a married couple. Okay, okay, only in my mind palace are they married...even though they sure act like it. I mean, just look at Molly - she owns Sherlock Holmes. The ease between them is delicious, even in their banter and with one word he'll obey her command. Mostly. Where Sherlock is concerned, that says a lot.

Molly redeems herself with John. This might seem like an odd thing, because we get very little Molly and even less about what goes on in her world. But, we can infer, can't we? For two years Molly lied to John about Sherlock's death. Not only did she lie, she participated with the plan and actively, if not fraudulently, carried out her part. She watched John grieve. She saw his pain and devastation. Molly, however, kept her word with Sherlock - knowing full well the difficulty and consequences. I see Molly as strong, capable and courageous, but she is not without heart or sympathy. I cannot imagine it was easy for her to watch John grieve, believing Sherlock dead. Whether or not redemption is necessary, I can further imagine there's a part of Molly that believe she's owes John - even if it's from an unconscious connection. And here lies the parallels between Molly and Mary. Mary believed she owed Sherlock and I don't believe it's a stretch to think the same about Molly toward John. Two women, totally different actions, but in the end they have to live with their conscience. There was absolute pain in Molly's face giving Sherlock the news that John would rather have anyone but him around. Anyone. But, she stood by John and bravely gave Sherlock the painful pronouncement, just as she once allowed John to believe the pain he felt was real. She will support John in his time of need. None of that means she's abandoned Sherlock, or cut him out of her life, but I bet she's treading very carefully in the early days of Mary's passing.

By golly, we got Sherrinford and know that the #13 is the code to be in touch! Who knows if it / he / she is a person, place, thing, or code name. We'll soon find out.

Mycroft knew all along that AGRA was a private, militarized contract team, specializing in extractions and assassinations.

Sherlock was present when baby Rosamund was born! I would love to have been a fly on the wall when all of that was taking place. Fic writers where are you?????

Redbeard and two little boys playing on a beach. One in a pirate hat. Sherlock's memories....

We got to see another one of Sherlock's boltholes. Kinda a cozy place, if you don't mind tree roots or Underworld Chic.

That's my initial thoughts, although there's so much more to glean from this episode, like tons of symbolism. What say all of you?

#sherlock spoilers #minimeta #sherlolly #TST #Molly Hooper #Mary Watson #John Watson #s4e11

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writingdreamy-blog · 6 years

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Loss of yesterday, Looking forward to tomorrow ch 2

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Rick/OC

Warning:

Note:

That night Eva cried herself to sleep on her father's side of the bed. The events of the night was too much for her to handle.

The next morning she awoke with an acute sense of nausea and a killer headache. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. What time was it? Why wasn't she woken up? "Ma!" she called out, maybe her mom was still in the house.

She was greeted with silence. As she shuffled around, she couldn't stand the sunlight and everything that accompanied the light of day. She considered the possibility of just not going out today, staying inside felt so much better than having to deal with people.

But the fact of the matter was, if she didn't make an appearance then they would send somebody to go find her.

She decided to dress in black, not like the Goth black but mourning black. She donned a black shirt and a black skirt. And to hide her tears she put on her biggest sunglasses that she owned.

Finally after a good twenty minutes she slowly walked across the lawn to the main house. She noticed there was a makeshift grave already for her dad, and new vehicles in the driveway… and the rest of Rick's group, they were a bigger ground that she imagined.

The first person she saw was a man with fishing cap, hi white scruffy beard showed his age. He greeted her with a warm smile and a pleasant good morning.

She mumbled out a 'morning' before she continued to the house. It was deathly quiet inside.

"What time is it?" she asked out loud to nobody in particular.

"It's around 10:15?" a voice called back. A woman with grey short hair stepped out of the kitchen, "Hi, I'm Carol"

She shook Carol's hand, "Evangeline" she replied with a curt smile and nod.

"Uh, I'm guessing you're Patricia's daughter?"

Eva nodded, "Well, we're almost ready for the funeral." Well of course she was stating the obvious.

"Yeah I saw." She didn’t feel much of a talking mood.

The awkwardness hung in the air for a few moments until Maggie came in, "There you are!" she said, taking a hold of Eva's arm. "Let's go, Patricia is waiting for you"

The three women walked outside, everybody was standing in a semi-circle, and Hershel was holding his Bible. Eva desperately didn't want to be part of this. The men had their hats off and Beth was the first to put a stone on the grave.

"Blessed be God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ" Hershel opened up, more people began to put stone on the grave.

"Praise be to Him, for the gift of our brother; Otis. For his span of years, for his abundance of character; Otis, who gave his life to save a child's."

Eva's shoulders shuddered as she was racked with silent sobs, she bit her lip to keep from crying and screaming.

"Now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, God, for the peace he now enjoys in Your embrace. He died as he lived, in grace."

Maggie held a stone out for Eva to put out. She took the stone, and it felt so incredibly heavy in her hands, which in reality it only weighed about five pounds but to her, it felt like the whole apocalypse was truly happening, not just pretending. By putting the stone on the grave it made it final. There was no chance of getting her father back. She looked through her glasses at all the pained face, her gaze fell upon Shane… who was in deep thought.

"Shane, will you speak for Otis?" Hershel offered.

"I'm not good at it" Shane replied, almost sad, "I'm sorry." he finished.

Mom spoke up, "You were the last one with him, and you shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear, I need to know his death had meaning" mom begged.

I reached out and grasped her hand, she squeezed back. Trying to not let the tears fall as much as they were.

Shane stared at the mother and daughter team. They both looked absolutely drained. Shane couldn't see Evangeline's face as it was covered by sunglasses, but he could see the wet tracks down the side of her cheeks. Shane relented, "Okay" he shifted his stance, his lies flowing from his mouth once again, "We were about done. Almost out of ammo, we were down to pistols by then. I was limp'n it was bad. Ankle all swollen up, 'we've got to save the boy' see that's what he said." His voice cracked a little at the end for extra emphasis.

Eva clenched her jaw. If he died, she had not decided that she was going to find his body and put a bullet through his head, there was no need for his body to become the walking dead, she just needed that little extra push to let the dangerous thought to take seed. "He gave me his backpack, he shoved me ahead. 'Run' he said 'I'll take the rear, I'll cover for you' he said. And when I looked back…" once again Shane could not finish his story. He glanced at the girls to see if his story was plausible.

Mom looked at him through watery eyes, "Thank you" she whispered.

Eva looked down at her rock, and decided this was the time. Slowly she made her way to the rock mound and placed the rock on top. She then put her hand on the pile and sent up a quick prayer to God. She then returned to her mother's side. Shane followed after her to place another rock, and this time it was beside Eva’s rock, it was the only way that he could share his condolence without letting another lie slip.

He returned back to Rick and Lori's side, "If it wasn't for Otis, I'd never had made it out alive. And that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both" he looked at the tiny family, "If any death ever had meaning, it was his" he nodded his head towards them.

Eva nodded, for now she was content to hear those words. However, the dark and dangerous thought was taking root inside her mind. If her dad had died there, well… she'd go to his death place and put him out of his misery. She would destroy every walker that was there in revenge.

The rest of the memorial went quickly, and little by little people left soon it was just her, her mom and Rick.

She was hugging herself, Rick put his hand on her shoulder. It was incredibly warm, she leaned unconsciously into his hand. "I didn't know him. But if you want to talk I'll be here" he offered, then left.

Eva stood close to her mom, "It's hard, I really expected him to return" Patricia said.

Eva hummed, "I should have gone with them."

"I'm glad you didn't go, I would die if it was you there with your father."

Eva nodded, she didn't dare tell her ma what had taken root in her mind. If she did, then undoubtedly they would lock her up, and probably keep an eye on her all day, if not for the rest of her life.

Eva gave her mom's arm a squeeze and left the grave site. The others began to talk about a little girl, she sounded like the biter child that they had found two days ago. Of course Hershel would never tell them that.

Rick wanted to go with, but Hershel refused to let him go with the group. Neither Shane nor Rick were going to leave the farm. Maybe Hershel would utilize her, it would be great to get off the property. She slowly walked toward the group.

"Can I go?" she asked softly.

Hershel shook his head, he couldn't send an emotionally distraught girl into the woods. "I can't let you go, need you here." he mumbled, he didn’t really want to tell her why.

"I guess I'm the only one left" a gruff man said. His crossbow slung across his shoulder. His vest clung to his body. "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way back."

"I can still be useful" Shane spoke up, "I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back."

Rick agreed with them, saying they'd set out tomorrow.

Rick's group felt safer with guns, Hershel had a strong opposition against it. Telling them that his group has survived without them thus far.

Shane tried to reason with Hershel, but Eva knew better, Hershel would not budge until something forced his hand, he had always been this way.

"With all due respect," Shane opened, "you get a crowd of those things wandering in here—"

"Look we're guests" Rick interrupted, "This is your property. And we will respect that" he said, while looking pointedly at Shane and with extra emphasis he put his pistol on the hood of the car that they were huddled around.

Shane followed suit and placed his pistol on the hood also, although he didn't look too fond of the idea. Rick took charge again, telling what part of the group that was there what to do. Eva watched Rick in amazement, not many people could command a group with relative ease like he did.

Eva to say the least was a little mesmerized by the power Rick gave off. Everybody listened as Shane asked if the girl was bit, would Rick's group be prepared to deal with it. Eva fidgeted, they had picked up a girl around Sophia's age wandering in the woods. She felt her chest tighten when she thought of the little girl.

The child was no older than maybe 12? She desperately wanted to blurt out that they had a child walker, but she could feel the pressure to be quiet to be much heavier, she noticed that Hershel was looking at her with a hard stare, of course he would want her to be quiet.

"If she's bit we can fix her right?" Eva asked.

Shane looked at her, he wanted to tell her that there was no being fixed. Coming from the CDC he knew in a way that there was no 'fixing' things.

Rick pondered the situation for a moment, "You'll do what has to be done" he replied almost in a coded way that only Rick's group knew.

"And her mother? What do you tell her?" Maggie asked.

Rick sighed and looked away, "The truth."

Maggie looked incredulously at Rick, as if the blunt truth would be horrible.

Eva frowned, she hoped Rick would show some sort of diplomacy on telling the truth.

"I'll gather all the weapons and secure them" Shane offered, "Make sure nobody is carrying till we get some practice off site."

Hershel let his gaze fall upon Maggie and Eva. He was very unpleased with this sudden change in things.

"I do request one rifleman on lookout" Shane continued. "Dale has experience" he offered. Andrea looked at Shane like he slapped her, to not offer her the job.

Eva bumped Maggie's hip with her hip, "If we take turns I nominate Maggie, she's pretty good."

Rick thought this over for a moment, "Our people would feel safer. Less inclined to carry a gun" he told Hershel.

Hershel nodded silently, Eva smiled at Maggie, and Maggie smiled wirily back. "Thank you" Rick said, he knew it would be hard to convince the old man.

Eva listened to the lull in the conversation, "Well, I'm going to go help Beth with lunch."

She heard Maggie ask about medicine that Rick's group brought back.

Inside Beth and Carol were chit chatting about anything and everything.

"I hope the authorities come soon, this will really interfere with my schooling" Beth commented.

Carol hummed, not really wanting to reply to the girl that nothing was going to save them, "You have a nice patch of land here."

"Yeah, been in my family for a while" Beth replied. Eva smiled as she joined the conversation.

"I baby sat Beth when she was just a squirt, she got into so much trouble!"

Beth blushed, "Hush Eva" she hissed playfully.

Eva stood by the sink, cleaning the odd and ends of things that was dirty. Her gaze rested on the locked barn. The queasiness that had settled in her stomach was enough for her to want to spill her guts but if she did she was sure Hershel would kick her out.

She thought about living life on the road, would she survive?

#The Walking Dead #Rick/OC #Rick Grimes #Slow Burn #Older Fic

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moodygirl4life · 6 years

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Things my uncle did/said to me:

1) Bully/harass me for an entire day until I couldn't take it anymore and broke down

- My uncle likes to joke around and make fun of people. That's his personality I guess, but that day he really over did it. I was stuck with him and my mom like all day. She had errands to do and I was with her, he decided to tag along. He taunted me all day. It was unbelievable tbh. Like really? He had to make fun of me all day???? But yeah it actually happened lol The things he said weren't that bad, mostly just annoying, but again deal with that for an entire day was too much. When we got back he made one last, really dumb comment and next thing you know I just cracked and started balling. I think I might have been 10, 11? Idk but yeah I was definitely too old to be crying like that over dumb shit like that. When everyone saw me lose it like that they got mad at him and he seemed to actually feel bad.

2) Compare me to his youngest daughter

- The usually comparisons about my weight. Why are you comparing two children like that??? Anyways I do remember my mom actually defending me once when he exaggerated about my weight one time.

- Compare my hair (texture) to that of his youngest daughter. I guess he let out his self hate, anti black, and colorism to try to make me feel inferior to his daughter because she has "good hair"???? It was really weird when he made that comparison because to me she and I have similar hair texture....he also commented on how she apparently doesn't we're weave,but.....she does and so what???? He thinks braids aren't weave like wigs and sew-ins....ignorant...anyways it was really weird lol I didn't think he was the type to say something like that.

3) Tried to fight me about how I was making him late for an appointment, but he actually made himself late (and me as well)

- So I was getting ready to go to school and he also needed to go to this appointment or whatever. My mom was gonna drop me off first and then they would go take care of whatever he was doing. I was nearly done getting ready with plenty of time to spare when he starts yelling at me about how I'm making him late and that I needed to get my ass to move faster and stop going back and forth like a dumbass....I was furious and I honestly felt like I was about to fight him right then and there and he looked like he was ready to go, too. My mom overheard and stepped in just in time. She actually defended me and said we weren't gonna be late and that I always make sure to be early whenever I go somewhere. A few minutes later, turns out he needed to go look for some paperwork that he needed for his appointment. I was done, early as always, and had to wait for him to find the paperwork. In the end, he made himself late, and I was a little less early to my class. He tried to play it offs if we were cool when we finally left the house. I really felt it in my bones that I was about to get in a physical altercation with him. He probably would've beat me since he's bigger, but I definitely wouldn't have not pressed charges or something especially if I ended up bruised up or worst, but in the event that my mom could have possibly talked me out of doing so I would've carried that shit with me to my grave and never forgive him or my mom or anyone else that would've tried to stifle me. It seems unlike though. My mom would've fought for me, too. She definitely would've been very upset.

4) Yell at me while I was trying to figure out what I wanted to order at McDonald's one time.

- So I was waiting in line and looking at the menu, trying to decide what to order. I didn't wanna order something too expensive or too much. My uncle was also standing in line. He was actually in front of me, so I expected him to make his order first. So it's his turn and next thing you know he starts yelling at me to make my order. I was so shaken up because like I wasn't expecting that and fumbled over my words which made him yell even more. After that I just kindda went on autopilot, made my order, and sat down at one of the tables just to get away from him. I didn't really get to enjoy my meal after that. The anxiety just took over.

5) The most recent thing he did was say disparaging comments to me and to others about me on my graduated day.

- I'm grown to be an really emotional person. I always was, but when I was younger I used to just cry a lot when watching movies or shows. I usually only cried over fictional stuff. Now I cry over real life events, too. Like a lot.....so I was naturally very emotional on the day of my graduation. I was overwhelmed by all the kind wishes and presents I got that day. I actually felt a loved that day. So I was trying to keep it together and not break down in front of anyone. I knew they wouldn't like that and wouldn't understand how emotional I can be sometimes. So my uncle was talking with a visitor about me. The visitor was impressed by me and proud of me and all. I guess that upset my uncle, because he find it's upsetting to see me be where I am compared to his kids. It's not fair to me or his kids for him to compare us like that, but yeah...anyways at some point my uncle says something along the lines of "I don't think she'll amount to much of anything" while referring to me and next thing you know I start crying. My other uncle (my nice and favorite uncle)who was there sees me, but doesn't let anyone else know what was going on right then and there. My back was facing the uncle who said that about me and the visitor so they didn't see me cry. I wasn't crying because of what my uncle said. That day he was taunting me while I was getting ready, not as much as that one day, but enough to annoy me to the point that I broke down. Again. I was very emotionally so my tolerance wore off quicker than usual. My nice uncle at somet point pulled the visitor aside and explained what had happened. He also pulled me aside and like said some encouraging words and just supported me the rest of that day. Bless him.

#family #uncle #abuse #bully

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elizabethedancer-blog · 7 years

Text

How the Nate Was Born

As with any birth, this one was a special one, and I wanted to write out our story to preserve every moment I can remember.

While my pregnancy with Nathan was nearly as textbook as you can get, the end was anything but! Starting at around 39 weeks, I began showing all the signs that delivery was fast approaching. I had several bouts of what’s called prodromal labor- “real” labor that actually stops and starts. Many evenings were filled with regular contractions that were a minute long, anywhere from 4-10 minutes apart, and would grow longer, stronger and closer together… until they’d stop a few hours after they began. One evening I had labor pattern contractions for SEVEN HOURS, and then… nothing. I also had what’s called a forebag of water rupture- just like I did with Victoria. Apparently, women can develop a small second amniotic sac that ruptures before their primary sac, which I had no clue was possible! I was so ecstatic when it broke around the 40-week mark- and spent the day waiting for contractions to start- only to be sent home from the hospital after checking in that evening being told my primary sac was still intact. Waiting for sweet Nathan to come was emotionally (and physically) exhausting- it was almost like being in labor for two weeks. We tried ALL the tricks to negotiate an early arrival, I walked so much my feet became swollen enough to warrant a “light activity” restriction between week 40 and 41- not quite bed rest, but close to it. It became clear to me that I just needed to wait for him to be ready, even if that meant waiting until my induction date. I had my heart set on a medication-free birth, but when you get to be 11 days past your due date, I was ready to get him out at nearly any cost!

Finally, at 41 weeks and 5 days, the day before my scheduled induction, I started having very mild contractions about 10 minutes apart around 10am. Since this was a near daily occurrence, I really didn’t think much of it- I’d gotten my hopes up so many times that I didn’t really believe I was in labor. I’d gone to the doctor’s office that morning and learned that I was between 4 and 5 centimeters dilated and 90% effaced, and that helped me welcome the contractions despite fully believing they’d eventually vanish- at least when labor DID start, I knew I wouldn’t have that far to go. By about 2pm, they were still coming every 5 minutes or so, and slowly growing longer, stronger and closer together. While they weren’t the strongest contractions I’d had, I started to finally accept that I was really in labor. I still had my doubts- I’d been burned so many times! We eventually called Rene home around 2:30 when they finally started getting stronger, and I knew this was the real deal. I hopped in the shower for a bit to see if that would slow them down, and when Rene got home 45 minutes later and they were only getting stronger, we settled in for what we thought would be the long haul. I called my doctor to let her know she could cancel my induction- I was in labor! While she originally had suggested I wait at home as long as possible before going to the hospital, she changed that advice and suggested we head there immediately- knowing that I didn’t have nearly as much work to do to be able to push this baby out!

It seemed as soon we decided to leave, things really started picking up. I was having to focus a little more through contractions, and started reciting the mantra, “My body opens, My mind quiets, My baby descends”. I could get through that mantra three or four times with each contraction, and it really helped me relax and let the waves and rushes of energy do what they were supposed to do. Rene hopped in the shower and gathered our things, and we were at the hospital around 5:30. By the time we were admitted, I was no longer able to talk through contractions and began really relying on Rene to coach me through contractions. That was an incredible experience- there’s nothing like your husband coaching you through childbirth, really. There would be moments when he would say just the exact right thing to help me relax and breathe and let this baby out, I’ve never felt so in tune with someone in quite the same way. He was amazing, I really, truly couldn’t have done it without him. We were transferred to a labor and delivery room around 6:30ish (I think, judging by what I’ve been told), and my mom showed up just shortly after. I was still just between 5 and 6 centimeters so we all felt like we had a couple of hours to go-and I knew the hardest part was nearly upon us. A few minutes after my mom’s arrival her presence became essential- I started going through transition and having both her comfort and Rene’s coaching helped me get through the worst of the contractions, I really needed both of them there. I had my heart set on a lot of hydro therapy, and wanted to get back in the shower as quickly as possible. I began to feel that I needed something else to continue- I was just NOT okay with bouncing on the ball and was experiencing a lot of back labor. Our sweet nurse Katilin suggested I labor on all fours for a while, and sure enough laboring in that position through just a few contractions was enough to optimally position Nathan and my back labor was greatly decreased. She said she’d be back to check on us in an hour, and I was finally able to get in the shower, and labored there with Rene spraying water on my back for maybe three contractions before I began to feel “pushy”. I knew I needed to get into a safer place to push, or at least to be able to distract myself from pushing. In my head I was guessing I was 8cm or so and felt like I needed help to get through the pushy feelings without actually pushing against my incompletely dilated cervix. My mom called the nurse back in, it was just 15 minutes or so after she’d said she’d check back in an hour. Katilin was amazing- and took my pushy feelings seriously rather than just brushing them off; I think she knew how close I was to delivery. She helped me get back on the bed, and I was trying my hardest to breathe through the pushy feelings, but after just a contraction or two I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do to keep this baby from coming out NOW. You hear it’s sort of like throwing up- there’s not really anything you can do to stop your body from doin’ what it’s gonna do. Things started happening, the charge nurse and a tech showed up and started prepping the room as quickly as they could, but not quickly enough to get things in place before my water broke. Talk about a GUSH, holy freakin’ heck. As soon as my water broke the pressure kicked up to 11 and everyone in the room knew there wasn’t any hope waiting for the doctor get there. I was complete and he was crowning. Another contraction later and I was delirious and frantic, any “rhythm” I’d developed was thrown out the window- I was completely and totally relying on Rene to help me even breathe at all. I focused on his face, on his words, and tried my hardest to not completely lose my mind. The nurse said he had a lot of dark hair and I couldn’t believe how close we were to meeting our son! I knew I couldn’t have much more to go, but never in my life did I think he’d come as quickly as he did. I’d read about/seen videos of how many contractions it takes to get the head out, and how babies often descend and rescind to help both mom and baby prepare for birth. The next contraction came and I felt his head POP out and then in that same contraction his entire body shot out. The nurse legitimately caught him, in all the birth videos I’d seen- I’d never seen one where the entire baby is birthed in one contraction. I couldn’t believe it! My baby was here- in front of me, I was kissing him and holding him and boy he was PISSED. Poor guy was not prepared for that either! I couldn’t believe how quickly everything happened- I was in labor and delivery for just about an hour and a half before he was born- which was exactly what I had hoped for and dreamed of, but definitely not what I was expecting when we left the house as early as we did. I expected transition and pushing to be a much longer event than it was- and I’m so grateful I didn’t wait at home any longer! I was so relieved and so proud of my team, I couldn’t believe we actually did it! It was such an incredible experience and everything I had hoped for. The doctor walked in and in my hormonal delirium somewhat sarcastically thanked him for all his hard work- that got a little chuckle by the staff there. This birth was so remarkably different in nearly every way from Victoria’s, and I’m so glad I got to experience it both ways- each as beautiful and magical as the other. While I knew I wanted an unmedicated birth experience from the beginning, I wasn’t really ever able to fully express “why”- I just knew I wanted this experience. Just like my first birth- it shaped me and molded me in ways I didn’t expect- and gave me this whole new appreciation and love for my husband. It was another one of those, “if we can do this together, we can do ANYTHING together”. Thank you so much to all my wonderful friends and family that supported me through words of wisdom and advice, gave me book suggestions and mantras and all sorts of tricks to deal with labor. While we ended up using almost NOTHING we had prepared, all that preparation gave me and my team the confidence we needed to know we could do it- and that proved to be invaluable! I couldn’t have done it all on my own, and I’m so grateful to everyone that made it possible! Now the real adventure begins!

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