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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 2 years

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What We Do - Part 5

Summary: Marc, Steven, and Jake are learning to live together. Old habits are hard to break and old lies are even harder to remove. Jake struggles to find his place.

Continuation of “What we see”. This is going to be a series.

Pairing: They're all friends here. And Layla saves the day.

Word count: 2103

Part one Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Part Four Here.

Part Five: Layla knows Jake’s secret and she wants to know more. We get to see more of Jake and things get a little sappy.

“I can drive.” Jake clutched his keys tighty as he stood next to his car. “I am okay, I promise.”

“You have a head injury.” Layla gave him a look. “You can’t leave your car where it is parked all night, either. Especially if you… You know… The men that did this to you.”

Jake stared down at the keys. He slowly opened his hand and held it out.

She gently took the keys then grinned and moved to open the passenger side door for him. “Get in.”

He got in and winced as the door shut loudly. He watched her walk around and get in. She adjusted the seat forward then moved to adjust the mirror. He stared intently at her the whole time.

“Jake?” She looked over at him. “It’s okay. I know how to drive. You can put it all back later.”

Jake looked forward and clasped his hands tightly together. “Right.” He nodded to himself. “I know. I just…”

“This is your space.” Layla started the car. “I get it. When you’re healed up maybe we can schedule a day in for you and you can drive around all you need.”

Jake shrugged as if he didn’t care. “There’s a car show in a couple of weeks.” He looked out the window. “If it doesn’t conflict with anything.”

“You like cars, don’t you?” Layla tested the gas and brakes to get a feel for the car then took off. She drove faster than Marc did and with more ease swerving in and out of the traffic than Jake did.

Jake nodded and tapped his fingers lightly. “I like how sleek some of them look. Clean and smooth. I also enjoy seeing how they work and the history.”

“Yeah?” Layla took a sharp turn, causing Jake to grip the door handle tightly to keep from sliding.

“All the parts. Some are so small, connecting and working together. The balance of oil needed to keep the engine working is so much more than just getting it changed every so many miles. Then there are the safety features that get added due to very specific circumstances. Things you would think would be obvious. Did you know that the rearview mirror wasn’t invented until 1921? The seat belt wasn’t introduced until 1959.” He paused and glanced over at her then looked out the window. “Sorry.”

“You sounded like Steven for a moment there.” She laughed. “I don’t mind, you know. Listening to whatever makes you happy makes me happy. I like that you have interests.”

Jake shrugged again. “I’m nowhere near as studious as Steven is. I read a lot of mechanic magazines in… in places. They were easy to come by.”

Layla carefully pulled into his parking space and turned the car off. “Marc knows a lot about weapons. He doesn’t much like to talk about it, though. I think it was easy for him to focus on the mechanics of his job instead of what he was actually doing. You all have that in common.”

“Marc is a good fighter.” Jake admitted. “Only because he is hard to fight. He has a unique fighting style…”

“Do you like to fight?” Layla turned in her seat to look at him.

“I get the job done.” Jake folded his hands tightly again.

“You have a strong sense of justice.” She pushed the seat back, attempting to locate where it had been before she moved it. “This isn’t the first time you’ve gone after someone that hurt people. First time you’ve gotten hurt, though. That’s not like you.”

Jake pressed his lips together tightly. “I keep us safe. When Marc doesn’t watch his back, I watch it for him. I’m not used to going in first. I am used to getting us out.”

Layla thought for a moment then looked at him fully. He could see something being mulled over. “Are Marc and Steven listening? Can they hear?”

Jake paused. “No. They are away.” Marc had slipped to the back room after assuring Layla they were alright. Jake suspected his guilt and fear of hurting her was the cause of that. Steven had slipped out soon after, tired and done with the pain of the headache and stab wound.

Layla chewed her lower lip. “What did he promise you?”

“Who?” Jake wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“You know who.” She frowned. “Khonshu. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? After what he did to Marc? Sending him out all the time to fight his battles for justice? Putting him in danger and making him hurt people.”

Jake opened the glove box and pulled out a spare cap. His good one was lost in the street somewhere after the fight. He would have to go back and look for it later, or just buy a new one. He pulled it on low and got out of the car. “He promised to keep them safe.”

“Marc and Steven?” Layla got out of the car in a rush and locked it up. She ran up next to him. “Keeping them safe is keeping them away from Khonshu. They don’t need that liar in their lives. Jake, you can’t keep working with him!”

“He promised me the ability to keep them safe! To keep them out of this! Did you think Khonshu would let us all go so easily? He gave me a purpose. I protect those that need it. I protect the body!”

“This is safe?” She lightly jabbed his bandaged side.

Jake exhaled through gritted teeth and gave her a look. “I refused the suit. I thought if I had the suit Marc would sense it or Steven would summon it accidentally. I was… I was worried They would find out. I was careless. Khonshu would not let us die. I wasn’t too worried.”

“You have to tell them.” She moved to stand in front of him. “You can’t keep this from them. They deserve to know.”

“I don’t have to tell them anything!” Jake winced at how loud he sounded. He took a moment to calm down. “They were fine without me before. They never asked me what I wanted before. This is my life. My choices. It doesn’t concern them. I was promised my own path and I took it.”

Layla looked at him sadly for a moment. “Do you resent them that much?”

Jake wanted to tell her yes. To tell her he hated Marc and Steven with every fiber of his being. That he hated Steven’s apartment and how Marc didn’t trust him after everything he had done for him… That he hated having to always pull the body out of perile without any thanks. But the lie was not in him.

He had been out front for so long. He wasn’t used to being out and interacting with the world like this. He wasn’t used to being seen. He did his job. He drove around. He protected them. The only people that ever truly saw him were Gena and her boys. Even then, it was just over some breakfast.

Jake looked away, muttering in Spanish for a moment. It felt good and reminded him of who he was. He was Jake Lockley. He was Latino. He drove a taxi cab for a living. He liked diner food and cars. He was more than a well thought out fist and shield.

“I do not hate them.” He admitted at last. “I hold secrets. It is what I did back then. I am the barrier between Marc’s need to be punished and the world. When Marc wishes to die, I am there to make sure he lives. Not just for the body. Not just for me. Marc did not deserve any of what happened and when he falls into his destructive habits and leaves himself broken and bleeding on the floor I am the one that makes him get back up.”

Layla reached out and took his hand gently. She brushed his bruised knuckles with her thumb so softly it made him shiver. “Marc doesn’t understand you. He’s scared of your purpose. Steven was there for him when he needed to escape his emotions. He understands that. He thinks you are here to be the violence he can’t do. I don’t think that is your purpose. I think you’re here to protect Marc from himself.”

Jake looked down at their hands for a moment. “He doesn’t see it that way.”

“Steven is so curious about you. Maybe start there. Talk to Steven. He’s a very good listener.” She smiled and turned towards his flat, keeping hold of his hand. “But first, you need rest.”

Jake stumbled after her as he was pulled along. He hesitantly gripped her hand, not sure how he was supposed to hold it. “Are you staying?”

Layla laughed. “You have a concussion and stab wound. I think old school says you shouldn’t sleep but now they say it’s alright to sleep so long as someone checks on you now and then to make sure you aren’t having trouble.”

Jake sighed as he was dragged into the building .”Great.”

–

Layla sat in the chair at Steven’s desk. His Egyptian books were all bookmarked and spread out. His French books were piled on the corner. He had been digging through those recently if his hand written notes had any indication.

A newer book with Arabic letters caught her eye. One of them was attempting to learn Arabic. Marc knew it fairly well already. Maybe he was trying to brush up on it or Steven was taking an interest.

She found a piece of paper and wrote out a note for them in Arabic and hid it in one of the pages.

She looked around the apartment curiously. The fish tank was quietly bubbling away with the three goldfish. She sprinkled in a few flakes and watched them circle around.

She wished Marc would find a hobby or something to do with himself other than attempt to nanny Steven. He wasn’t used to staying so still for so long.

Rustling from the bed drew her attention. Marc had always been a restless sleeper. He often got up in the middle of the night to wander around when they had lived together.

She frowned at herself. What if he wasn’t the one getting up? How many times had he left their London flat to let Steven have his moment? Had Jake ever woke up next to her and snuck off to his car?

Layla shook her head and walked over to the bed. There was no sense in being upset over past events. It wasn’t exactly like she had been expecting her husband to really be three people instead of one.

“Three wonderful people.” She sat next to them and brushed the curls out of his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah alright.” Steven muttered and rolled over closer to her. He nestled in and draped an arm around her midsection.

She blushed deeply and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Marc wasn’t the only one getting used to his new life.

Layla had done her best not to think about what sort of relationship she was in now. She was still married to Marc. The only one of them that technically had any legal identity in the world, even if he was wanted on four continents.

Steven was absolutely enamored with her. It made her feel like a young school girl with a crush if she was being perfectly honest. She adored him and each trusting smile and touch could send her to the moon. He was not exactly shy, but more unsure on what he was allowed to do. He was so used to rejection and people not understanding him…

And then there was Jake… She didn’t know what to think about him. Each time she got to speak with just him, she got to see more and more of his personality. He tried to hide it so well behind a cold frown, but she had caught glimpses of it and it made her want to see more. The way he didn’t smile openly like Marc of Steven, but like a more personal smile just meant for one person. She sensed a kindness to him that disguised itself as protective. He even had a sense of humor burning deep behind his walls that she suspected was full of bad jokes and blunt observations.

She sighed and laid back, resting an arm around them gently. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to love you all, but I think I do. If you’ll let me.”

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Fic #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Layla El Faouly #It got sappy #Soft Jake Lockley #Damn it Layla is the woman for them #Who else is going to put up with all their bullshit?

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spoilertv · 2 months

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#SpoilerTV

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2103miles · 4 years

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Daily Prompt Number 9 - Who Is Your Favorite Reindeer? ~ Helen

Until a couple of weeks ago, I would have said Prancer. I love the 1989 movie, Prancer, though I haven’t seen it in ages. (Note to self, watch Prancer).

Every time I see reindeer displays/decorations I think and sometimes verbalize loudly “PRANCER is in the shed behind the BARN!!” I even had a life size”ish” wood reindeer named Prancer for years before a hurricane flood took him out.

However, last week, we, like 10 billion other lemmings, joined Disney+ and the first thing we watched was Noelle, a thoroughly enjoyable Christmas movie with a baby reindeer named Snowy. Sorry Prancer, you lost out to a baby goat with horns!

#2103 miles #favorite reindeer #daily writing prompt #writing prompts #prancer #prancer movie #christmas #noelle disney +#snowy the reindeer

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multi-fandom-inserts · 3 years

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Show Me Going

Rosa Diaz x Female Reader (If this offends you, don’t read, simple as.)

This is set during the active shooter episode, I’ve changed a few details but just a warning if this subject is a trigger. ENJOY.

Masterlist.

XXX

“Come on Y/N, just a few more bits to fill in.” you mutter encouragingly to yourself, leaning back on your chair stretching out your back and fingers before rubbing your temples furiously in a desperate attempt to refocus on the computer screen in front of you but it was no luck, the new system the IT department had put in place took twice as long for warrants to be processed and approved as well as evidence to be categorised and assigned to cases which meant they take longer than average to fill out.

The atmosphere in the precinct was tense, the usually loud room with buzzing energy and laughter had fallen silent with nothing but the echoing noises of fingers tapping on keyboards, coffee being drunk and the constant noise of the printer working in overdrive to keep up with the demands drowned out the frustrated groans made by your co-workers.

Everyone had fallen into their own miniature slums, Amy had reverted back to “secret” smoking and chewing the ends of her pens violently – which has caused more than one ink explosion – Terry was working in overdrive to keep everyone in upbeats spirits, running himself into the ground in the process, whilst Charles focused all his energy into waiting hand-and-foot on Jake who had managed to hurt himself more times in the last few weeks than his entire career in the police force and had been ordered to desk duty sorting through old case files as well as the odd open case that crept up, the boredom of which had now caused him to become even more childish and irritating – something the Nine-Nine didn't know was possible – and was currently entertaining himself by creating paper-areoplanes and throwing them around the bullpen.

“Here you go, Y/N.” spoke a voice that snapped you out of your day dream and made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention.

Turning your head to the left, you see Rose Diaz, holding two brown take-out cups. She hands one over to you with a smile, you notice your name was written neatly on the side as you take the cup from her with a thank you; the detective watched you as you take a curious slip, she hadn't asked if you wanted a drink but as you let the delicious warm liquid of caramel Mocca fill your mouth, you hum intently.

It seemed like everyone was suffering except Rosa, and you could feel Jakes curious eyes settle on the pair of you as he listened and watched intently as the pair of you interacted. “When you've got a spare minute, could you help me search for some evidence on our case?” Rosa then asks, rather abruptly, also noticing Jakes eyes on the two of you, but from the side she manages to give you a half smile that wouldn't be seen by the prying detective.

You smiled back at her sweetly, “Yeah of course, let me just finish up the warrant requests and I'll be right with you.”

Rosa gave you a short nod and turned back to walk to her desk situated behind Charles who was sat in front of you typing away madly on his computer, from beside you, you could still feel Jakes hawk-like-eyes on you, one eyebrow raised and a stupid childish smile on his face.

“Is there something you wanted Peralta?” you ask in a short tone.

He snapped out of his trance and shook his head quickly, “Nope, Y/L/N. Nothing.” he stuttered, turning back to his computer; chuckling quietly to yourself, you turn back to your computer.

XXX

Twenty minutes later, you huff in annoyance and push yourself away from the desk, abandoning the warrant that won't process in a efficient amount of time and head for the Evidence Room, Rosa had disappeared from her desk ten minutes ago with a blue case file so you assumed she was in there but as you open the door; all the lights are turned off in the enclosed room; stepping in cautiously whilst attempting to feel for the light switch, the door shuts behind you, engulfing you in pitch black.

“Ah shit.” you hiss to yourself, turning swiftly to feel for the door handle but there was no luck, “I knew I should of listened to my mum when she said eat more carrots.”

Suddenly, a hand clamps down over your mouth from behind, muffling your squeak in surprise, instinctively you grab the wrist of your attacker, twisting your body and the arm around putting them into an arm-lock, pushing them against the chain link fence of the airlock.

“I taught you so well,” the familiar feminine voice whispers, immediately you let go of the figure in front of you allowing them to easily turn the main light on, sure enough, you were face-to-face with the beautiful chocolate brown eye of Rosa, who wore a huge shit-eating smirk on her face with pride. You roll your eyes and shove her playfully.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you whisper in fake annoyance, unable to stop the goofy smile creeping onto your face.

Rosa chuckles, taking your hand and pulling you closer, placing a gentle her lips on yours and lingering for a moment before separating, “We agreed we wouldn't do this at work,” you grumble, pulling her in for another kiss, this one more passionately as your tongue glides across her lower lip, asking for access as you deepen the kiss.

Rosa moans into the kiss before pulling your lips apart and hugging you tightly, “I know, but I couldn't sit there and watch you all stressed out and anxious anymore.”

Smiling, you rest your head on the front of her shoulder, inhaling deeply taking in the familiar smell of her perfume, motorbike oil and the leather jacket she wears religiously, “You know they'll figure out we are dating eventually, Jake seems to be on the trail.” you say to her.

You can feel her nod, “Yeah honey I know – but don't worry about that for now, we'll tell them when we are ready.” she assures you, squeezing you tightly before releasing you, “Why don't you get out of here for bit? Go get some food and fresh air.”

“But we are busy with this case?” you ask her.

The detective smiles, rolling her eyes gently as she cups your chin in her hand, “Go, get out of here... before I get my taser and chase you ouy.” she playfully threatens, kissing you one last time.

XXX

You would never tell her to her face – but Rosa was right, getting away from work and some fresh air is exactly what you needed.

A short drive from work was a small café hidden amongst the busseling city, taking a seat outside you sip on your tea in-between eating your chocolate croissant. Breathing a sign of relief as you watch the city move around you, strangers going about their daily lives, going to work, seeing family, spending the day with loved ones. It causes a sinking feeling in your stomach, Rosa and yourself weren't out in the open with your relationship, you both have witnessed Captain Holt receive abuse because of his sexuality and neither yourself or Rosa were ready to face that in the work place let alone in your personal life.

And sadly, the sinking feeling doesn't stop there, as your radio crackles to life with a message no one in law enforcement wants to hear.

XXX

After you left, Rosa stayed in the Evidence Locker for a while as she really did have some evidence to find relating to the case the two of you were working on, but thanks to the new filing system and the lack of Evidence Attendant workers, it took twice as long to fins what she needed and when Rosa entered back into the bull-pen, evidence in hand, she is greeted with the sight of everyone crowded around Gina's desk with their backs to her.

“What's going on?” Rosa asks but is responded to with sharp, loud hushes.

She's taken aback but then she hears the buzzing static noise of a radio, quickly Rosa joins the half circle around the radio and listens carefully, “There's an active shooter in a hotel in Brooklyn Heights.” Holt tells Rosa, her heart sinks and the rest of the team takes a sharp inhale at the confirmation from their Captain.

“Requesting additional units.” a female voice speaks over the radio.

“Multiple causalities, ESU is en-route and nearby officers are responding to the scene right now.” Holt tells the squad keeping them updated.

Rosa's hands ball into fists, whitening the knuckles as her hands begin to sweat. Jake bits his lip as Amy chews her pen.

“Multiple shots fires, please be aware civilians running from scene and are on the streets.” Dispatch informs.

Charles takes a deep breath and holds it until it hurts before breathing out slowly as Terry flares his nostrils.

“Johnson, 2938, show me going” a male voice speaks over the radio.

“2938, I have you going.” Dispatch confirms.

“Gilbert, 9825, show me going.” another male speaks.

“9823, I have you going.” Dispatch confirms.

“What are they saying?” Gina asks – who had begun to pick at her nail polish – looking up at Captain Holt from her desk.

“Show me going and their badge number, they are telling Dispatch that they are close by and responding.” Holt explains calmly.

“Y/L/N, 2103, show me going.”

Everyone around Gina's desk freezes, the one line was spoken so quickly no one wanted to believe they heard it, until Dispatch confirms.

“2103, I have you going.”

“Y/L/N! As in our Y/N!” Charles shrieks worriedly.

“That's her badge number.” Jake then confirms, looking up at Rosa who looked over to him, the colour in her face had drained, her jaw hung loose in disbelief as her balled up hands began to shake. The squads eyes dart from one person to the next, everyone slowly coming to terms with what they had just heard.

“She's there.” Amy said quietly to herself, but in the silence atmosphere it echoed loudly.

Rosa swallows thickly, her heart beating a million miles an hour, echoing in her head making it pound, palms sweating with an uneasy lump forming in her throat choking her. Without a word, the detective turned sharply on her heels and took off in a fast, brisk walk towards the bathroom down the corridor, bile climbed her throat as her vision starts to blur at the edges.

Locking the main door to the bathroom, Rosa breaks into a sprint for the toilet, barely making it in time before her lunch made a reappearance. For twenty minutes, she stares into the toilet bowl eventually gaining the strength to push herself back up, flushing the toilet and heading over to the sink, gripping the edge of the sink with all her strength, running the water to mask the thick and fast tears that fell from her eyes.

A million thoughts rushed through the detectives head, was Y/N safe? Where was she in the hotel? Is she hurt?

Just as Rosa begins to panic, a loud knock echoes on the bathroom door, followed by Jakes voice.

“Rosa? Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, the detective tries to calm herself enough to respond, “Yeah, I'm fine.” she manages before a wave of new tears form.

Jake doesn't believe her, through their training at the academy and multiple cases together, Jake has learnt to read the seemingly emotionally unavailable woman pretty well; and he knows better than to push her as he hears the unevenness of her voice and attempted hidden sniffles.

“Captain is holding an emergency meeting in the Briefing Room in five minutes,” Jake then speaks, not wanting to push her.

Rosa nods as if he can see her, looking at her blood shot eyes, blotchy skin and pale complexion, “Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.” she responds.

Jake doesn't respond, instead he waits. Rosa washes her face with cold water, tries her tears and swallows her emotions as best as she can, unlocking the door she steps out and Jake engulfs her in a bear hug – something they never do often – but as Jake waits for Rosa to shove him away, instead she wraps her arms around him and returns the hug gratefully.

“Thank you buddy.” she mumbles, letting go.

Jake smiles softly at her before turning to walk towards the Briefing Room.

Holt and Terry stand at the front of the room, Jake by Charles, Amy and Rosa on their own tables and Gina stood in the corner. The tension is the room was thick, worry and anxiousness radiated off everyone, even Captain Holt had a nervousness about himself.

“A Captain at the 9-7 has given us a brief update, there's two possible three shooters in Brooklyn Heights – ” Holt started but Jake swiftly interrupted.

“Any casualties?”

“Three head, many wounded – all civilians.” Holt speaks. “ESU is on scene and the area is being locked down, it's a zoo out there, we have been ordered to stay here on alert but not to respond.”

“That's crazy!” Amy yells.

The room is taken aback by her outburst but Holt doesn't seem fazed, “I know you're all worried about Y/N, but she is not alone, she is part of a massive NYPD response. I promise I will keep you updated as the situation develops, in the meantime, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

The room clears out, Rosa lingers as Jake and Amy talk.

“She'll be okay, Ams.” Jake comforts her.

Amy smiles through gritted teeth, touching her boyfriends shoulder, “I know. I love you.” she says.

“I love you too.” Jake smiles happily.

That's when it hit Rosa like a bus.

A realisation she never thought she'd have.

A feeling she never thought she'd feel.

She loves you.

XXX

Three Hours Later...

The echoing sound of gunshots rung in your ears, sending glass sparing over you and the officer you are paired with. The heavy bulletproof vest you wear constricts your chest more than the heavy sinking feeling of anxiety that sits in the pit of your stomach, when suddenly an officer in the squad next to yours yells in pain, turning swiftly you see a brief sight of red blood.

“Move! Move! Move!” you yell to your team as more bullets fly through the air.

“Squad Beta-Nine to Dispatch, we are pinned down.” a male next to you speaks over the radio, “Multiple shooters on west side, seventh window up. Do you have a clear shot?”

Your heart beat echoes in your head, white noise takes over blurring out everything else, holding your gun close you check the bullets, secure your vest and helmet. As the bullets hit the wall you're all barricaded behind, you close your eyes and all you see is her – Rosa, with that stupid smirk she wears, her leather jacket she lets you wear when you get cold, the helmet she hands you when she forces you on the back of her bike.

Oh my god, you suddenly think, your eyes bursting open, “I love her.” you whisper to yourself.

XXX

“GUYS!” Charles screams – despite everyone in the squad being in a two metre radius of him.

“What is it?” Rosa asks, her voice strained.

Everyone gathers round Charles as he twitches from foot-to-foot, unable to stand still, “They just took three shooters into custody. Officers got injured in the action, they don't say how many or who they are.” he tells everyone, a small weight is lifted from everyone but tension still runs through them.

“Call Y/N.” Jake turns to Rosa, pointing at the phone in her pocket.

Amy raises her eyebrow, curious as to why Rosa would call Y/N when she was her best friend, but before the Sergeant had a chance to ask, Rosa already had her phone to her ear, the ring tone rhythmically humming away. “Her phone is off.” Rosa mutters.

“Fuck.” Holt lets slip.

Jakes eyes widen but now is not the time to react to the Captains potty mouth, no matter how incredible of ��a moment it was.

Forty-Five Minutes Later...

The bull-pen was silent. No one spoke. No one worked. Everyone sat at their desks, anxious, scared and on edge.

“Listen up,” Holt's voice shatters the void, “I don't have the names of the injured officers, but is Y/N is unharmed, she should be contacting us shortly. Or, if her phone is dead, she might be walking out of the elevator at any moment.”

And almost as if by magic, the elevator ping’s and the door slides open... revealing... Scully holding a meatball sub.

“AH COME ON!” Rosa screams so loud it causes Scully to jump out of his skin, throwing the meatball sub all over the floor spilling the sauce, meat and bread all over the floor.

From the corner, you let out a laugh, “Damn it Rosa, that looked like a good sandwich.” you speak.

The entire room jumped to attention, all smiling, calling your name but before you got a chance to respond to everyone who moved to hug you, Rosa barged through the crowd, sending Jake and Charles flying into the nearby desks as she grabbed your face tightly and kissed you.

The entire room erupted in gasps as you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, and when you both pulled apart, everyone in the bull-pen was staring at you, you took Rosa's hand in yours as you faced your boss, co-workers and friends, Jake and Holt had a huge grin on their faces – as did Gina, who insisted on slow clapping – Amy and Terry looked shocked as Charles looked like he was about to faint.

“So I guess the cats out of the bag.” You said with a laugh.

“We are all very happy for you.” Holt said, a soft smile settled on his usually emotionless expression.

The entire squad nodded in confirmation. “I knew you'd been happier for a reason.” Terry winked, punching Rosa's shoulder playfully.

Everyone laughed, it felt incredible not to hide it, the weight from your chest disappeared and you felt out of this world. Rosa squeezed your hand gently. “Y/N why don't you head home and get some rest, it's been a long and stressful day for you.” Holt says, you nod with a small smile, and head over to your desk to collect your things, “Oh, Detective, Take Diaz with you. The two of you deserve a afternoon off.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Rosa says, grabbing your hand again as the pair of you say your goodbyes and leave the precinct.

As the two of you step out into the fresh air, Rosa pulls you into a tight hug, her shoulder quiver slightly, “Hey, babe, I'm okay, I'm back with you.” you assure her, rubbing her back gently.

Rosa pulls away, her arms still wrapped around your waist, resting her forehead on yours, “I love you.” she whispers.

A large grin breaks onto your face, “I love you too.”

#rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz x female reader #brooklynn nine nine x reader #brooklyn nine nine #rosa diaz imagine #reader insert

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caffeinated-yearning · 3 years

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Confessions and (Bad) Dancing

In which pieces of the puzzle slot into place, feelings are lain bare after a year of working together on cases, and some people are better at dancing than they have any right to be (but unfortunately I am not one of them).

Word Count: 2103 Warnings: uhhh aside from crippling embarrassment as a center-stage piece, none I can think of.

“Slow dance? No, sorry, I don’t know how.” It was ironic, the tone Mark used- but he was sincere; not for lack of trying, but a waltz was simply outside his dancing expertise. So was pretty much every dance step ever; he had never been very skilled with dance. I’ll step on your foot and scuff your shoes, or I’ll fall into you, or “it will be unsightly,” and that’s a promise. A low hum as the half-smile fell from something almost sincere into a flatter expression that looked more unyielding than it was.

Mark’s eyes remained on the offered hand, still outstretched as Mr. Edgeworth spoke; “I promise it’s easier than you think.” For one half-second, Mark actually considered it. Considered it carefully, from every angle- and from all perspectives foresaw himself getting embarrassed. Either through his own inexperience, or some comment thereupon. If nothing else, being that close to Miles- to Mr. Edgeworth would destroy the easy-going facade that he so carefully kept. A quick one-two and done, Mann overboard.

Miles added, after a half-second of silence; “consider it a request; it has been a while since I’ve had the opportunity, and I can think of no one I’d rather share it with.”

…

What?

Operation ‘try not to think gay thoughts’ has been blasted wide the fuck open, and all smashed to smithereens; what does that mean? What does that mean?! Dumbstruck, feeling his hands and feet go ice-cold and at the same moment his chest and face start to burn, Mark was… Passingly aware that he’d accepted Edgeworth’s (Miles’?) hand.

What???

What a terribly foolish thing to admit. Miles chewed his lip, hoping that that specific admission would pass cleanly over Mark’s head. The opportunity, hah! No one he’d rather share it with— a request?! How utterly embarrassing to have said so much. He considered himself lucky, and unlucky, that this Mann was so incapable of noting any act of affection leveled toward him.

Not… not that Miles was well known for being terribly affectionate. Still.

And, likewise now, Mark seemed wholly preoccupied with other things. Perhaps his utter obliviousness would continue to spare Miles the indignity of having to discuss any matters of the heart.

… That there were matters of the heart which needed discussing was… well. It certainly wasn’t something he wanted to acknowledge.

Mark didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to hold his head up on the path to the dance floor- normally he wouldn’t dream of hanging his head, but the ground became very interesting when one needed to focus on one’s step, and even if he didn’t need to focus, meeting the eyes of (not allowed to think ‘crush’ but) Miles Edgeworth was dangerous enough.

Ah- oh no. They really had crossed that distance rather too quickly for Mark’s liking. Hand-on-back that rested warmly against this, his body, and it suddenly felt cumbersome to be- just to be. Mark’s own hand held feather-light over Miles’ shoulder; unwilling even to touch- to touch Miles. His hands were so cold and his face so warm- God, if there be any mercy in the world, may lightning strike me down here and now.

Alas, no such luck.

As the music started, step-one-two, don’t mess this up and stumble as Miles pulled him closer-; hand landing like lead to stabilize himself, and Mark felt his brain go absolutely empty- empty and full of static at the same time. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, pulling back just to see where he was stepping- to see he was trodding on Miles’ feet and step-step stumble off. “I’m sorry—.” Sorry sorry sorry fuck.

“You really are unfamiliar with this,” Miles almost found it amusing, how little coordination there was. It- the dance- was all an excuse to be close to Mark in an otherwise over-crowded venue; he almost certainly should not have done this, should not even have admitted that he wanted to do this, but he had. While it was clumsy, it was still enchanting- just to be there together.

If only Mark were slightly more aware of the situation.

Miles sighed lightly, watching Mark glance one way, then the next- evidently searching for something, though what exactly he was looking for was beyond Miles’ kenning. Looking up, then down, then up again; it was a wonder he didn’t get dizzy.

A tense voice, anxious; “I said I’m bad at dancing.” Not exactly… ideal, for a (not a date but) dance.

“You’re not the worst,” Miles offered.

“But I’m not the best.” Quickly dismissed.

“Do you need to be the best at everything?”

“You can’t tell me you disagree- that you don’t want to be the best at everything you touch.”

That was… A fair enough point, he supposed. “But it’s an unreasonable standard to hold yourself to.”

Mark laughed at that- rude enough, tonight; “from you? From you?? We’re the same in that regard, at least. Neither willing to be less than the best, and neither expecting the world to live by the same standards.” At least he wasn’t still so stressed. And he’s back to watching our feet.

Mark felt himself pulled along at an unfamiliar speed; again he had been pulled a little too close, the dizzying steps tossing him face-first into Edgeworth’s cravat with a muffled ‘oomph.’ Despite all his struggling, he managed to scowl up into the grey above when he recovered his legs. So much struggling, with this dance thing. Struggles to meet a gaze, struggles to match the step. Infinite struggles, it seemed. Terrible!

Miles looked away too quickly when the glare was cast- had he been looking at me? “It gets easier with practice, you know.”

Mark grumbled and huffed and felt very inelegant as he tried not to step on any shoes without looking. “Which is useful if you are inclined to practice- so, not useful to me.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you would be so inclined if you had someone to practice with?”

Mark glared back at his feet with that; to look at Miles when his face was this bright (step over, Rudolph,) would convey only that he found the notion embarrassing- and master of logic that Miles was, surely if he didn’t put it all together by now, he’d have the final piece of evidence in the long and storied history of Mark has a big ol’ stinkin’ crush on pretty boy Miles Edgeworth like some kind of gay dweeb or something. Mark was sure he hadn’t been found out, but just as sure that it was only a matter of time. Damned if he would speed that along by actually showing off his embarrassment like some neon sign over his head. Over his face. Whatever.

“What-? Practice with you?” He tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Is that so bad an idea?” Oh Miles was on fire with suggestions that would be impossible to explain away in the future, when they had work tomorrow and had to act like nothing happened.

“It’s a terrible idea!” Despite the words, Miles could hear the smile in Mark’s voice; like it was all a joke.

“Oh?” He tried not to take offense to that- the offer was genuine, even if it would have been hard to explain away in the future. “And what’s so terrible about it?”

Mumbling, as though trying to speak under his breath and not accounting for the fact that they were less than arm’s distance from each other; “I’m gay; you figure it out.”

This time when Mark walked into Miles’ chest, it was less because of his own inexperience, and more to do with Miles coming to his own screeching halt.

“… What?”

“What?” Mark looked up, and reflexively Miles looked away again.

While blushing might have been a bit too strong a word for it, Miles felt his throat, face, and ears burn with… hmmm, embarrassment? Something more akin to sudden, unwanted understanding, as all the pieces fell in place. “Wh-?! What does- what does that have to do with it?!”

“I said I’m bad at dancing! You’ve noticed!! You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed. Perhaps I am completely without rhythm, perhaps I am wholly incapable of such things as stepping around a room elegantly!”

“That’s definitely not what you said,” he started moving again- but this time, it was less of a dance and more of an attempt to hurriedly get out of the center of the room, get off the dance floor and into a place slightly quieter, slightly less in the view of everyone around. The appreciation in Mark’s expression was subtle, once he realized they were leaving- only for it to get suddenly screwed up into apprehension.

Miles supposed it was probably because Mark had put together that they were leaving for the sake of a slightly more serious discussion.

The evening breeze was lovely, Mark supposed; it was cool enough that he could almost radiate away all the embarrassment without having to go shove his entire head under a cold tap.

Almost.

“Now,” Mark refused to look at Edgeworth- not that looking would have been so difficult in the dark of the night, but the idea that Edgeworth would be able to see Mark’s own face was enough to keep him looking to the side. “Mr. Mann, please.”

He glanced over in spite of himself- and though it was dark, something in Miles’ stance, or gestures, conveyed the same unease. “This is he who’s speaking.”

“This is not the time for jokes, sir.”

Miles groaned, and despite the fear sense in the air, Mark cracked a smile. “But I am such a jester! It’s only natural that I crack a joke to lighten the mood.”

“I— even so,” Miles sat on the steps, gesturing for Mark to join him. “Please explain why your being gay is relevant.”

“You’re clever; can’t you figure it out?” Mark had almost sat down, and then the question (request?), and he elected instead to lean against a pillar and not, in fact, sit at all. “Surely something like that is obvious.” The smile had faded, that much was obvious in his tone.

“You’re not afraid to fall in love with me,” Miles posed it as though it was a question, rather than a statement of fact; attached to the end was an ‘are you?’

“Far worse,” Mark breathed; a whisper directed away that didn’t land upon any ears at all.

“Since that’s not an issue, I’m afraid I don’t see the logic.”

“I already…” have.

“Hmm?”

“Your logic is faulty. It’s well past your statement.”

“My… Do you mean ‘afraid to fall in love’?”

“That one, yeah.”

“Well past, then…” The silence sounded almost like disbelief; not that Mark was going to look over and see for himself. “You—?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t—!”

“For a long time!!” Mark wanted to laugh and scream all at the same time. God, what a terror this was! To admit to a crush one’s feelings, to acknowledge—.

“You didn’t notice either—?”

Wait what??? Mark turned around so fast he got dizzy and fell over. Miles was standing, having stood up at the revelation, and now he was leaning over Mark to help him get back up on his feet, and oh what a humiliating thing— “what do you mean ‘notice either’??? What’s that supposed to mean???”

“I knew you were oblivious but I was certain at least by tonight you’d have figured it out-.”

“Figured WHAT out?! What are you talking about?! Is this a dream? Am I dying and dreaming or something??”

“When I asked you to dance I was certain that would have clued you in-.”

“Oh my GOD whAT no I’m surely dying this is it, goodbye sweet world!”

“I can’t believe you would just throw away all evidence that pointed to my liking you at all!” By now they were both standing, and the panicked stream of words that had seemed never-ending had slowed to a point where they once again took turns speaking. “You really had no idea, then?”

“No. I’m a clown, remember?”

“Hmm. Well.”

“Regretting saying anything?”

“No, I think not.”

Hand in hand, a moment’s pause before clearing of throats and suggestions that perhaps they ought to return inside.

“I still think I’ll simply die if you try to teach me how to dance.”

“Well we certainly wouldn’t want that. Very well, you are free of such an obligation.”

“Good. I’d rather not have any more heart-attacks for a while.”

#for reference when there's a single dash it's meant to indicate perspective shift #[[ Reason and Rationale | Miles Edgeworth ]]#I've had this in my WIPs for TOO LONG #IT'S FINALLY DONE #caffeinated writing #no memory of my tagging system. sadge #no I do not know how to title things. thank u

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jevdompetdhuafa-blog · 4 years

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Do the difficult things while they are easy and do the great things while they are small. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Lakukanlah dengan susah payah walaupun itu mudah dan lakukanlah dengan hebat walaupun itu kecil. Karena sebuah perjalanan itu pasti dimulai dengan langkah sekecil apapun itu.

JEV FOR SOCIETY

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website: www.jevdompetdhuafa.com

Jalan Raya Parung, KM 42, Kemang, Bogor #EnglishCampEduventure #EasyEnglishforSociety #JEVGoestoSchool #JEV #JampangEnglishVillage #KampungInggrisJampang #EnglishVillageBogor #KampungInggrisBogor #InfoKursusBogor #JEVDompetDhuafa

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https://www.instagram.com/p/B9yg_hgnkAN/?igshid=15a5oqc73oizp

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saibugs · 5 years

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I finally gave the backstories for my OCs!

It’s big, so I’ll post it below the cut!

Cristina Elaine MacCready, formerly Howard, nee Montgomery

Cristina Elaine Montgomery was born in 2052 and grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She was the second child and only daughter of Adam Charles Montgomery and Fiona Dawn Montgomery. She is three years younger than her brother, Archer James Montgomery.

All throughout her life, she was verbally, emotionally, physically and even sexually abused by her father, although Archer protected her from as much of it as possible. Her mother was too weak and sickly to ever fight against her husband, a fact that made her take her own life when Cristina turned 15 (2067). A few days later, Archer—then 18—decided to leave for West Virginia. The two siblings argued for hours, causing a rift between them. Cristina declared she hated him and never spoke to him again. A year later (2068, age 16) she ran away from home and moved in with a couple of older friends.

After graduating from high school, Cristina fell into a slump, and became depressed. She was hospitalised at the age of 19 (2071) for attempting to take her own life, and in hospital is when she met her first husband, Nathan ‘Nate’ Howard. She dated him for about six months (which was difficult when he was fighting in the battle for Anchorage) before they were engaged. At the age of 20 (2072) Cristina decided to go ahead and get her degree in Law, supported by her fiancé, and she excelled. At 23 (in 2075), she married Nate and moved to the sleepy little town of Sanctuary Hills.

In 2077 (25), she gave birth to her and Nate’s son, Shaun Howard after he returned home from the Anchorage War. In October of that same year the events of Fallout 4 occur.

General Nuke Garvey, formerly T7-86

Nuke Garvey was created in the Institute 2 years before Cristina left the vault. His first year of life was filled with escape attempts, one of which nearly killed him when he was shot in the head by a laser rifle. He earned a burn from it forever. His final one was successful, but he was thrown into the middle of the Glowing Sea, landing right in the middle of the crater.

Since he was immune to radiation, and he came from nowhere, he was considered a gift from Atom and ended up joining the Children of Atom. For a year, he was devout, but two months before Cristina left the Vault he left the Children, stopped practicing, and wandered the wasteland. A week after Preston is saved by Cristina, he meets Preston and decides to help the Minutemen, eventually becoming the General and falling in love with Preston as well.

Laurie Melissa Anders

Laurie was born in 2258 to Hayley and Johnathan Anders, their only daughter. As a little girl she grew up in a small settlement that is no longer on the map, north of Diamond City. When she was 10 years old, in 2268, Raiders burned her home settlement to the ground and killed everyone. She only survived by hiding under the bodies of her parents after gunshots killed them through the walls of their shacks. She left the settlement after three days of hiding, when she could be sure she would not encounter the Raiders again.

This event would cause her to grow up distrustful, angry, and hateful. At the age of 12 (2270) she became addicted to Med-X, as it was the only thing that helped with the emotional pain of losing her family. In 2274, at 16, she built her characteristic Flamer, painted it blue, and called it Frostbite. While she was terrified of fire she decided to weaponise her fear and burn the Raiders as they’d burned her home. That same year she began to actively hunt Raiders down and kill them.

In 2287, Laurie—having earned a reputation of being a stone cold, aggressive, bloodthirsty ‘pyrobitch’—meets Cait, and she’s the first person Laurie can trust. They have a few sparring matches when they first meet, initially not trusting the other, but after Laurie helps Cait with her addiction (knowing what it’s like to be hooked on something) they grow closer.

Arden Boone, nee Grace

Arden Grace is the biological child of Eden of the Wastes and ex-Paladin Morgan O’Hara, and was born in 2260. Days after her birth she was left on the doorstep of Carey Grace, her adoptive parent, when her adoptive brother Daniel was six. Her mother died of severe radiation poisoning only a few miles outside the tiny settlement. Carey found the body and knew it to be Arden’s mother, but didn’t recognise the face as it had been mutated by the radiation. As a result, he made sure Arden had a ritual; she would leave a particular flower floating in water, as it was a flower she’d been left with.

Growing up, Arden was not the most intelligent person in the world, and several of the other kids in the settlement bullied her relentlessly for it. She never lost her happy-go-lucky attitude, but she does withdraw if anyone calls her dumb (or some variation thereof) because of the bullying.

When she turned 18, in 2278, she left the settlement alongside her brother and parent, and they all went their separate ways. She got work as Courier Six for the Mojave Express, and saved up enough caps to live comfortably if she wanted to. Unfortunately, in 2281, she was shot in the head by Benny for refusing to give up the Platinum Chip.

Daniel Grace

Daniel Grace is a travelling doctor, born in 2254 and adopted by Carey when they found him alone in a settlement as a newborn baby, in 2260. He was unharmed and cheerful in mood despite being alone, healthy too, so Carey took him in and raised him as best they could.

As a boy, Daniel was incredibly intelligent, and often defended his younger sister from her bullies. He began to read as many pre-war texts as he could and learned how to perform complex medical tasks when he was 17 (in 2271) and was acting as the doctor for the small settlement by 2272 (at 18).

At some point after his family left their home in 2278, he went to the Mojave and aided them, becoming a trusted ally to the Followers of the Apocalypse. Around 2281, he was working with them to find ways to mass-create medications (such as non-addictive painkillers and pre-war antiseptics).

Carey Grace – Phoenix

When human, Carey Grace was a strange person. Their birthdate is unknown, but they arrived in the small settlement they ended up living in in 2241. They made themselves known there as a trustworthy, friendly person who helped wherever they could. It was here they befriended Eden of the Wastes, but she left in 2246.

In 2260, while out exploring and searching for medicinal herbs, they stumbled across a small boy called Daniel. He was wriggling in a woven basket, with nothing but a name tacked onto his wrappings, and Carey took him in after working out that there was nobody coming for him, raising him as best they could. Six years later, a tiny infant—Arden—was left on their doorstep, with a name, a letter pleading for Carey to raise the baby, and a special flower. Carey, ever so caring, took the infant in and raised her alongside Daniel.

In 2278, Carey and their two children left the settlement, going their separate ways. In 2279, Carey arrives at the Commonwealth Wasteland, and is captured by Coursers. They take them to the Institute and they are given over to the Institute’s Super Mutant program.

What happens in between is still a mystery, but Phoenix only remembers waking up in the middle of nowhere, confused and scared. They are in incredible pain all the time and the first day they emerged in the wasteland they tried to seek help, but were shot at and nearly killed. As a result Phoenix lives in a cave on a cliff. The settlers nearby know they exist but they leave them be, because Phoenix defended them once and made it know they’re not a threat.

Phoenix now lives out their days trying to work out what happened to them, what they once were, WHO they once were.

Archer James Montgomery

Archer was born in 2049, the first child and the son of Adam and Fiona Montgomery. He was subject to abuse from his father for not being ‘manly’ enough, since he preferred to read and was a quiet young boy, rather than loud and sporty. He tried to protect his sister, Cristina, from as much of it as he could, and the events left him with undiagnosed post-traumatic stress disorder.

In 2067, at 18 years old, Archer moved to West Virginia after his mother’s death. The decision caused his sister and him to fight, and she declared her hatred for him, so he never contacted her again. In 2069, at 20, he became a bouncer for a nightclub and ended up being recruited by Vault Tec in 2070 (21) for their Vault program. In 2076 (27) the Vault closed, and Archer spent the next 25 years inside, keeping the peace for the Overseer. In those years he was promoted to security chief.

In 2102, Vault 76 opened. Archer, now 53 years old, was the last resident to leave the Vault. He explored Appalachia a bit, hunting for cryptids—as something he had wanted to do before entering the Vault—and helping his fellow Vault Dwellers out. But after launching the nukes in early 2103, Archer was heavy-hearted and abandoned Appalachia, instead trekking the United States and finding every Vault he could, learning about them, taking information from Vault Tec and destroying all but one copy.

15 years after this, in 2118, Archer had just arrived at the Commonwealth after learning his sister had been sealed in a Vault. But before he’d managed to get there, he was shot by an Institute synth. At the age of 68 Archer recorded a series of holotapes for his sister, managed to hide the information he’d collected in a secure location, and bled to death.

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tonightinthewasteland · 5 years

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Journal Entries 3- Casey Loomis aka Preacher

Part 1 Part 2

Jan 1, 2103

I woke up on the second floor of Sweetwater's home with a blinding headache and Nate handing me my glasses. They sat crooked on my face and I realized they were held together by wraps of duct tape. Nate took them back immediately saying he'd fix them a little more. Ignoring my questions about the night before, he readjusted my glasses then offered them back. They fit better that time and when I asked after the night before he busied himself with gathering up things. I resolved to sit in a cloud of fragmented memories.

It took some confused blinking and the lingering taste of bourbon in my teeth to finally remember. When the evening came back to me I smiled and I could tell by the way Nate avoided my eye that he wasn't too proud. He escaped down the stairs before I could say anything and now I'm worried.

Is he embarrassed? Was I too hasty? I thought it was pretty clear what he had wanted but maybe I got ahead of myself...again.

If he hadn't wanted to kiss me then what did he want?

Jan 6, 2103

The awkwardness has pushed Nate away. Now I am back in my old haunts in the eastern forests, trying not to think too much, and spending more time at my C.A.M.P. The garden now has more corn plants and I planted mutfruit bushes beneath the western window. What I wouldn't give for a decent cook station. I’d like to see someone else make a Starlight cobbler on the ground.

While at the stove at Arronholdt Farm, I heard a commotion behind the center house. Instead of a wild dog, a person came barreling out of the woods! I was so stunned, my fight or flight brain almost shot her in excitement. Yikes!

She said my name before I could remember hers. It was Siddhi! Ten years my junior but sometimes our cliques' co-mingled at Vault events. I never thought I’d see a familiar face ever again! Too bad Nate isn't around to meet her. I’m beginning to think he could use some more human contact also. His “neighbors” don’t count. I think those stiffs are starting to get to me also because I swear I saw the same mannequins a mile away from my C.A.M.P.

Keep it together, Casey.

Jan 9, 2103

I'm a fuckin idiot. Complete dumb shit. I would embarrass the Elder if he met me. The Overseer wouldn't even claim me right now. I was heading back to Camp Venture to stow away some technical documents when a Sierra Bravo came out of the trees tops. It was a stroke of luck it didn't see me but who needs Scorched beasts when my dumb ass trips over his own boots? I went down the side the mountain at a full tumble and over the edge. I must have had another life left because instead of landing straight in the mouth of hell I dropped heavy on to a rocky outcropping instead. Dazed and breathless, I couldn't tell what was fucked and what still worked. My bag with all its stimpaks was stuck underneath me and the pain made my limbs worthless. The sky was an ugly cheery blue, the sun was out and all I could think about was how Nate would find me C.A.M.P empty every time he came back.

I don’t know how much time passed but woke up with an achingly dry mouth and no pain. The world was still warm and bright. Looking back, I’m surprised by how easily I accepted that I was dying once the pain went away. Then, a smiling face with eyes as green as spring formed out of the sunshine.

Jan 14, 2103

Nate came back for a while and I am glad for that. He looks me in the face just as any other time. I’ve felt like a spring ready to spit loose. The lingering symptoms of my fall have sore ankles and stiffness when it gets cold at night but I have this persistent nervous energy that has nowhere to go but to my head. The nightmares are bizarre, fluctuating between flashes of sex with, uh, Raiders(?), and monsters tearing me apart. I can’t figure how these things match and I don't want to try. My thoughts have not been right since the fall. Wandering is what my mind needs, I think.

I directed us south towards an especially unwelcoming black spot on the horizon, a town called Welch. There wasn't much left of the Overseer’s ancestral home and the surrounding area has fallen to ashy landslides and heavy gases that made the air uninhabitable. The lingering striker bots, skeletons, picket signs, and long forgotten equipment still sit grimly on my mind. Perhaps it wasn't the best place to wander into.

It’s sick to see that machinery, the Rockhound, still functioning. Built to outwork humans, it outlived us instead. Watching the beast eat earth borders on cosmic horror. I’m being...too much...I need to lay down. I don’t feel good.

Jan 18 2103

I uprooted all my plants and used the C.A.M.P to dismantled everything. Fresh start. I moved a few yards farther down the hill to flatter ground near a stout tree. The new home is brighter with more room for growth and much-desired bedroom privacy. Never hurts to be ambitious, I hope.

Things need changing. A man can only ride stupidity so far before he has to accept it as a flaw and not a silly quirk. Always runny ahead to oogle at the new shiny things, tramping over land mines, waltzing into a ghoul den and Mutant territory...I’m a danger to myself and anyone that's with me. Here I am, changing the interior of my home but not myself. What new disaster will it take to become a man Nate might respect?

There might not be a Joshua loaded down with stimpaks next time. His generosity leaves a ghostly shame. I can’t recall his angelic eyes and genuine kindness without feeling guilty.

Perhaps my contribution can be as an example to these younger Reclaimers, Siddhi...Joshua...of what voluntary ignorance will get you.

Joshua belongs to @lamorellenoire6

Nate and Siddhi belong to @avaleon

#fallout oc #casey loomis #natan cortez #Joshua blackwell #siddhi

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camachameleon · 6 years

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Cam’s Voltron Fic Rec 3/∞

VLD Rec Lists: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** = favorites )

**Recoil/Release by Cheshyr

Word count: 22,387 (13/13)

Summary: When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.

Which means they’re not ready at all for what actually happens.

Comments: The almost stream-of-consciousness writing of Keith’s parts are really gut-wrenching because it’s as if you are experiencing it with him. (Warning for panic attacks- if you are triggered at all by that sort of thing you may want to sit this one out, it gets pretty graphic). A couple good song pairings for this fic to set the tone are Broken Crown and World Gone Mad.

**Synergy by Kokochan & Spanch

Word count: 74,064 (10/10)

Summary: The vines were large, stiff, gnarly, and thick-stemmed, with blue leaves as big and round as dinner plates, but Shiro’s battle-arm was able to sever several long straggles with ease. The vines draped easily enough over the shuttle and hid it quite handily from view. “Good enough, I suppose,” Shiro said, glaring at the empty greenish-blue sky. “Come on, let’s… Hunk? What’s the matter?”

Hunk was staring at something behind him. “Shiro, don’t make any sudden moves just now, but there’s a really big lizard thing standing right behind you. Um. Two of them.”

Surprised, Shiro turned, albeit carefully. He’d never even heard them approach. That was rather impressive, considering the size of the beasts. It was as though someone had taken a pair of Arizonan horned lizards and rebuilt them more on the lines of a tiger without leaving out any of the spikes, then expanded them to about the size of an Indian elephant and added six large, intelligent blue eyes. Understandably, Shiro froze in place.

Comments: OH. MY. GOSH. OK. SO. This bad boy is Part 1 of 3, so far, with a total series word count of 241,404 at the moment. This beautiful titan of a series is named Of The Pack, and it updates with great speed, considering it has two top tier authors working on it. The several OCs in this story are so lifelike and realistic and fit so well into the universe that I forget that they aren’t actually canon and I kind of miss them when I’m reading other Voltron fics. My favorite part is the world-building it does. Everything about this fic is so dynamic and multi-dimensional, from it’s characters to the epic plot - this is the exact opposite of lazy writing. I am so here for badass Pidge, and the matriarchal Galra culture and the dragons. I👏LOVE👏THIS👏FIC👏

Also there’s magic! (with a scientific explanation, of course)

A cool song that I think goes nice with this fic is Heroes by Måns Zelmerlöw.

The Kids Are Alright by pugglemuggle

Word count: 10,430 (3/3)

Summary: Three Garrison Cadets Missing After Freak Satellite Crash

By Mara Garrett, News Editor | The Guardian | Monday, June 13, 2103 7:40 A.M. ET

Two seventeen-year-olds and a fifteen-year-old went missing Friday night after a rogue satellite crashed into the desert a few miles away from the Galaxy Garrison Training Facility, reports say. Garrison officials were quick to cordon off the area, claiming many of the remaining satellite fragments were dangerous and unstable. Government search parties have been sent out into the surrounding desert areas. Details are forthcoming.

—

Her brother is missing. Lance’s sister isn’t about to sit quietly while the Garrison keeps lying to the press. No—she’s going to get to the bottom of this.

(Or: The paladins’ families team up to find their kids and overthrow the corrupt Garrison regime. Told through news articles, prose, the internet, and art.)

Comments: The format of this is very intriguing and fresh. We get to see scenes of our favorite paladins through the eyes of their friends and families, from before they disappeared and the aftermath. The open ending is still satisfying and leaves you with a sense of determination and hope for these characters that you just couldn’t help but get attached to. If you’re big on government conspiracies then this is the fic for you!

**Patty Cake by Froldgapp

Word count: 7,829 (6/6)

Summary: Quiet, aloof, and alone, Keith is distant from the rest of the team. Hunk begins to suspect why, and it’s only when the red paladin pushes himself too far, the Voltron gang realise he’s just as vulnerable as the rest of them.

Comments: Aaaaahhh this fic. Something about this one has me coming back to reread it all the time even though I always cry. It is just so angsty but in a more poignant, sharp, breathless kind of way. Some of the things the characters say send painful stinging jolts into your chest and you can feel your heart cracking and then you get angry because how dare (I mean ch4 tho holy sh*t). I just want to hug Keith so much ugh. Hunk’s protectiveness of Keith gives me the strength to finish this masterpiece every time. Also, this can kind of be Sheith if you squint (or not, if you don’t).

The Message by Shipstiel

Word count: 132,787 (45/45)

Summary: (4:07) okay, but considr this, and hear me out here (4:08) so like, a photobooth u can do with ur pets like there’ll be lil costumes that u can dress them up in, and u can do liek, period costumes and shit with them (4:09) omg, can u imagine, u and ur cat/dog, and theyre in a lil 1800s dress and one of those lace umbrella things omg so cute

(4:15) Why the FUCK are you texting me at four in the morning with this

—

Keith is texted by accident by some idiot one day, and honestly he’s not even sure why he responds. Or why he keeps responding. Yet somehow he finds himself drawn in, and okay, so maybe this fool is mildly entertaining after all. Who would’ve thought.

Comments: Slowburn Klance Wrong Number AU. These two are so cute I just can’t. This is the perfect story if you are looking for something effortless and relaxing to read. Even though this contains some softcore Langst, it is still a very cute and heartwarming story about two dorks slowly falling in love. It features Lance’s mother who I fell in love with here, and the kind of supportive nosy best friends that everyone wants in real life (i.e. Hunk, Pidge, and Allura).

**The Quiet by MilkTeaMiku

Word count: 66,700 (32/32)

Summary: Does he not realize he’s dead?

Keith can see ghosts. As a part of his Garrison training, he’s sent to a hospital to do one year of medical clerkship - it’s there that he meets a charmingly irritating chose who definitely needs to learn what boundaries are.

Comments: Modern Ghost AU with eventual Klance. This fic is the most suspenseful story I have ever read in my life. Idk if it’s just me, but I just have this feeling building up paragraph by paragraph of an impending… something. And it has my heart racing which is crazy because it isn’t even particularly fast-paced. There’s just a heaviness to the words that have the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. I literally have to take a breather from reading sometimes to calm down.

A couple cool songs I think set the mood for this fic is Smother and Mirror.

Finding Home by spacegaykogane

Word count: 26,966 (6/6)

Summary: After the wormhole collapses, Keith finds himself stranded on a strange planet. Alone. Until Lance comes along. With their lions dead and resources limited, Keith and Lance need to put aside their differences and work together to get home. Wherever that may be, now.

Comments: Klance. I love Stranded fics where they have to work together to survive and bond over that. So yeah this one has some whump obviously, bc you know, crash landings aren’t very fun. This one is angsty but its balanced out by the fluffiness in the end.

Cuddle Puddle by nothingwrongwiththerain

Word count: 46,782 (6/6)

Summary: Unexpectedly, Shiro’s hand landed on the top of his head. Apparently with Lance and Hunk taking up all the shoulder real estate, Shiro would settle for ruffling Keith’s hair.

Keith was fairly certain his soul was about to detach and abandon his shaking body on the couch. He was surrounded, in the complete and total sense of the word, by other people. Not once before, not in his whole life, had he dealt with a situation like this one.

Or, five times Keith found himself too close for comfort and one time he couldn't get close enough.

Comments: Klance featuring ace!Keith. Don’t be fooled by the fluffy summary, this is a very angsty fic with lots of Keith whump. Basically, as stated by the author, this story is about ‘Keith struggling with physical contact and learning to accept people care about him’. I love touch-starved Keith stories, like this one. I love the scenes with Kidge bros, featuring a super supportive Pidge.

At the Beginning by Sakuraiai

Word count: 64,203 (12/12)

Summary: Inspired by Anastasia

King Zarkon of the Galra empire lost his only way in to the Kingdom of Altea. In his anger, he put a curse on the royal family. The young, adopted half Galran prince Keith disappeared when the palace was overrun, never to be seen again -- or so it seemed. The only surviving princess, Allura, grieving for her child, offers a reward for Keith's safe return.

Con artists, Lance and his best friend, Hunk plan to pawn off a phony to the princess, hoping to reap the rewards. They hold auditions and choose an orphan man who has a remarkable resemblance to the missing prince -- all the way down to his fluffy Galran ears.

Comments: Can anyone say Anastasia AU?! I waited with baited breath for each chapter to come out and I was not once disappointed. I love the integration of the different alien races in this timeless story, it all works out so well. Keith just wants to find his mommy and I just want to cry. Also Kidge bros are still my fav as always.

out of orbit by rbillustration

Word count: 78,135 (19/19)

Summary: Dragged apart by Haggar’s attack on the wormhole, the paladins and Alteans struggle to survive and find one another again. Luck has placed them all within the same galaxy… but their fortune ends there. Lance is stranded with a badly-injured Shiro and his relief at finding their leader still accompanying him soon turns to terror. Keith may be the only who can rectify the situation - but the Galra have him in their grasp, and they don’t want to kill him. They want him as one of their own.

Comments: ANGST. SO MUCH ANGST. A brainwashed Galra!Keith plus a Possessed!Shiro. This is the perfect recipe for disaster if I ever saw one. If lots of blood bothers you proceed with caution. I love stranded fics.

A good song rec for this one is Darkside.

VLD Rec Lists: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

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spoilertv · 3 months

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#SpoilerTV

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mongoose232323 · 3 years

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In Canada, Another ‘Horrific’ Discovery

Of Indigenous Children’s Remains

An Indigenous group said the remains of as

many as 751 people, mainly children, had been

found in unmarked graves on the site of a former

boarding school in Saskatchewan.

From The Article

CALGARY, Alberta — For decades, the Indigenous children were taken from their families, sometimes by force, and housed in crowded, church-run boarding schools, where they were abused and prohibited from speaking their languages. Thousands vanished altogether.

Now, a new discovery offers chilling evidence that many of the missing children may have died at these schools: The remains of as many as 751 people, mainly Indigenous children, were found at the site of a former school in the province of Saskatchewan, an Indigenous group said on Thursday.

The burial site, the largest one to date, was uncovered only weeks after the remains of 215 children were found in unmarked graves on the grounds of another former church-run school for Indigenous students in British Columbia.

The discoveries have jolted a nation grappling with generations of widespread and systematic abuse of Indigenous people, many of whom are survivors of the boarding schools. For decades, they suggested through their oral histories that thousands of children disappeared from the schools, but they were often met with skepticism. The revelations of two unmarked grave sites are another searing reminder of this traumatic period in history.

“This was a crime against humanity, an assault on a First Nation people,” said Chief Bobby Cameron, of the Federation of Sovereign Indigenous Nations, the provincial federation of Indigenous groups. “The only crime we ever committed as children was being born Indigenous,” he said.

The burial site also puts new pressure on the current government of Justin Trudeau, Canada’s prime minister, which even today relies on a set of laws that govern the lives of Indigenous people that date back to the 19th century. Indigenous leaders say they hope the latest revelations will be a catalyst for their long sought-after self-governance.

“We are tired of being told what to do and how to do it,” said Chief Cadmus Delorme, of the Cowessess First Nation.

The recent unearthing of remains in Canada has reverberated globally, including in the United States, where this week the interior secretary said the country would search federal boarding schools for possible burial sites of Native American children. Hundreds of thousands of them were forcibly taken from their communities to be culturally assimilated in the schools for more than a century.

It is unclear how the children died at the schools, which were buffeted by disease outbreaks a century ago, and where children faced sexual, physical and emotional abuse and violence. Some former students of the schools have described the bodies of infants born to girls impregnated by priests and monks being incinerated.

Both schools were part of a system started in the 19th century that took Indigenous children from their families.

A National Truth and Reconciliation Commission, established in 2008 to investigate the residential schools, called the practice “cultural genocide.” Many children never returned home, and their families were given only vague explanations of their fates, or none at all. Canada had about 150 residential schools and an estimated 150,000 Indigenous children passed through the schools between their opening, around 1883, and their closing in 1996.

The commission estimated that about 4,100 children went missing nationwide from the schools. But an Indigenous former judge who led the commission, Murray Sinclair, said in an email this month that he now believed the number was “well beyond 10,000.”

Local Indigenous leaders on Thursday demanded an inquiry into what they called a “genocide,” and called for the church and the government to turn over all records related to the administration of the schools.

Chief Delorme also called for Pope Francis to apologize, saying that the Roman Catholic Church needed to address its actions.

“The incredible burden of the past is still with us, and the truth of that past needs to come out, however painful,” Don Bolen, the Archbishop of Regina, wrote in a letter Thursday addressed to the Cowessess group. He apologized and pledged to “do what we can to turn that apology into meaningful concrete acts.”

The discovery in Saskatchewan was made by the Cowessess First Nation at the Marieval Indian Residential School, about 87 miles from the provincial capital, Regina.

Chief Delorme said that his Indigenous community, spurred by the discovery at Kamloops and in conjunction with technical teams from Saskatchewan Polytechnic, began combing the area using ground penetrating radar on June 2, hitting as many as 751 unmarked graves. He said he expected more bodies would be found.

While it is not clear how the discovery of the remains will be investigated, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in Saskatchewan said that next steps, including the potential involvement of the force, would depend on the wishes of the Indigenous group’s leaders.

“Our actions must be respectful of the immense grief the people of Cowessess First Nation continue to suffer. We know we have enforced racist and discriminatory legislation and policies,” a police spokesman said in an email.

For Canada’s 1.7 million Indigenous citizens, who make up about 4.9 percent of the population, the finding of yet another mass burial site is a visceral reminder of centuries of discrimination and abuse, which has led to intergenerational trauma among survivors of residential schools and their families.

“There’s no denying this: All of the stories told by our survivors are true,” Chief Cameron said.

Florence Sparvier, 80, an elder of the Cowessess First Nation, said she attended two residential schools, including Marieval, the school where the unmarked remains were found.

“They were very condemning about our people,” she said of the nuns at the schools. “They told us our people, our parents, our grandparents didn’t have a way to be spiritual because we were all heathens.”

Mr. Trudeau on Thursday called the discoveries in Saskatchewan and British Columbia “part of a larger tragedy,” citing the legacies of “systemic racism, discrimination, and injustice that Indigenous peoples have faced.”

In September 2017, Mr. Trudeau acknowledged the nation’s past “humiliation, neglect and abuse” of Indigenous people, and vowed in a speech at the United Nations General Assembly to improve their lives.

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/06/24/world/canada/unmarked-graves-residential-schools-saskatchewan.amp.html?0p19G=2103

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