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sweetbillwriting · 8 months

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Love Just Happens

A New Chapter - Part 9

Characters: The future's Bill Skarsgård and others close to him. The rest is my own characters.

Setting: This story is set in the future but because it's hard to say how the world is then (and it isn't that important for the story) the future is similar to our time now, even with fashion and so on.

Warnings: 18+, age difference, smut, alcohol, ageism, intoxikation, pregnancy, family problems, jealousy, mentions of underaged sex, mention of miscarriage. Fluff, fluff, fluff as usual.

Notes: This is the epilogue, it just has a new name! Must say thanks to @b-afterhours again, I wouldn't be able to post without her help with the language 🩷

The music was loud in the house, Swedish hip hop Aurora didn't understand much of it. It went too fast and there were phrases she never heard before. She took off her chunky heeled boots and rolled her eyes when she heard the noises from men and how she could almost smell the testosterone. She walked into the dinning room where the sounds came from and on her way fixed her updo and her dress that was probably a bit too short. A puffy emerald green dress her belly had space in.

"Looou!" Said one of Bill's friends when she came in and met the sight of five men around the table. The table was full of glass cups and bottles and all of the men looked like she had caught them but the worst was Bill's face. He tried to smile so sweetly but he looked nervous. He stretched his arms out towards her while the other men said hello to her like she was his mother who had come home early. Aurora just gave Bill an irritated look and didn't walk up to him.

"Sorry babe… It just happened…" he said and covered his mouth with a hand to cover up a burp.

"Our bump? Our bump? So can I also just "let it happen" then?" She said annoyed but there was a hint of humor in her voice. Bill smiled shamefully and looked at his friends who smirked.

"But you won’t because you.. Are much more disciplined than me… Much better than me…" he still waved his arms towards her where she stood by the entrance with crossed arms. Two of his friends laughed when they saw how desperate he was.

Aurora rolled her eyes towards her drunk husband.

"Have you smoked too? Because it smells here. Cigar?"

Bill sighed and looked down at his lap. He should have known he wouldn't be able to hide it from her, even if they did it outside. Her nose was insane under the pregnancy.

"Babe…" He whined like a five year old and stood up. He walked towards her with a lowered head. He really tried to look sweet and watched her with big eyes and pouty lips. Aurora looked just as unfazed and gave his friends a look as if she mocked him. They looked at the couple amused because they knew it was mostly playful.

"I'm really really sorry… I won’t do that again?" Bill said and tried to reach for her hand but didn't dare take it when she gave him a condescending look.

"There’s eight weeks left of the pregnancy, of course you can promise that." She rolled her eyes. Bill licked his lips and looked at his friends for help but they lowered their heads with smirks. He missed the times he could buy himself forgiveness from his partner, with jewelry or a fancy dinner, he couldn't do that with Aurora, she had more money than him.

"Say you're sorry," Aurora said with her hand on her belly. Bill gave her a confused look and furrowed his brows.

"I did?"

"Not to me, to her." Aurora patted her belly.

He smiled a little and nodded.

"I can do that later. In bed."

"No, now. With the voice. The regular way."

Bill wasn't the embarrassed type, but this was private.

"I'm going to change clothes but then you can do it. You know, she is kicking wildly right now." She dragged her hand over her belly and by reflex Bill reached for the belly to feel the sweet movements. It was the only way for him to really feel like a part of the pregnancy but Aurora moved away.

"I think right now it's my bump. Right?" She said and then walked towards the stairs. Bill sighed and threw his head back. His hands rested on his hips. He closed his eyes but then the world spun so he opened them again.

"Why did you even drink? I mean, was it worth it?" Said one of his friends still with a smirk on his lips. Bill gave him an annoyed look.

"It was you guys that forced me!"

"You weren't hard to persuade," said another friend.

Aurora came down in pink satin pajamas and her hair in tight braids.

The bump wasn't really a bump any more, it was big and round which caused gaps between the buttons of the shirt, even if it was made for pregnant women. Bill just wanted to hug and kiss his sweet girl, drag his hands over the belly. Their baby girl was often awake late at night so she probably was having a party. Aurora held her hands over the belly in that way and Bill gave her a pained look and sat down on his knees in front of her. He was still so tall he was forced to lean down to be in the same height as her belly. He looked up at her with puppy eyes and with slow careful hands he unbuttoned the lower buttons of the shirt so her round belly was out. His friends looked at the show with interested eyes especially when Bill pressed his eye against her navel, pretending to look inside, even if her navel wasn't even a hole anymore.

"Bebis, bebis, är du där? Pappis, pappis är ju här? Hur är livet där inne? Vi väntar ju på dig, min lilla tjej." (Baby, baby are you there? Daddy, daddy is here? How's the life inside there? We are waiting for you, my little girl.)

He sang it with a high pitched voice while he shifted between looking in Aurora's navel and pressing his ear against her belly like it was a little dance. Aurora couldn't stop herself from smiling with love and amusement. That little song he had written by himself and sang almost every night. His friends applauded and cheered when he had finished. Bill gave them a fast smirk but then turned to the belly again where he could feel his daughter move. He looked up at Aurora.

"Can't you join us? I can make you a virgin pink paloma?" She smiled and dragged her hands through his hair. His friends looked at each other with mixed feelings. They really liked Aurora but of course the dynamic would change if a wife was with them.

"I think I should let you boys be alone, now when you have your first and last drunken night under the pregnancy," said Aurora and buttoned her shirt. Bill smiled a little and stood up. He could be with Aurora all the time but it was wise to be with just his friends sometimes. He nodded and let her go after she had said good night to them all.

"It's almost scary watching you with her. Or at least when you think about how you were pre-Aurora Lou," said one of his friends. Scary wasn't the word his other friends would use but Bill with Aurora was different. He was the same when he was only with them but he had a glittery sparkle in his eyes that hadn't been there before and together with Aurora that glitter was thrown on everyone around. Everyone could feel their chemistry.

Bill smiled and shrugged his shoulders while sitting down with them again. He didn't feel a need to say anything.

×××

He wouldn’t call himself hungover. Tired, yes, but not hungover. But it was what he was. He would never confess it to Aurora, who sat in front of him by the kitchen table drinking a smoothie he had made for her. He had stood in pain while the mixer whirred loudly and now felt like his head had exploded. She sat silent but looked at him amused while he put in a large spoon of multivitamin powder in his smoothie.

"So when will the girls be here?" She asked and took out one of her hair ties and tied up her braid. Bill looked at her tiredly. He hadn't forgotten they would come, he had just forgotten while drinking that he would become hungover.

"In two hours…" he said with a tired, raspy voice.

"Will you clean the dining room? It looks like a frat house in there."

Bill looked at her with furrowed brows. He was dark under his eyes and his lips were so dry Aurora could see patterns on them.

"But the cleaning lady… Lotta, she will be here in an hour?"

Aurora smirked because she knew what she would say would make his hangover worse.

"She just works Mondays and Thursdays, it's Saturday today."

Bill looked at Aurora tiredly and scratched his neck.

"You mean I must clean? Now?"

"Yes, if you don't want the girls to see it. Who is it that has drawn cocks on like every bottle sticker?"

Bill dragged a hand through his hair and made a pained groan.

"Can't you..?" He said with puppy eyes but Aurora stopped him.

"Not my party. And it smells so much alcohol I can't be there. Maybe the baby will get drunk."

Bill sighed another loud pained groan and threw his head back.

Aurora drank up her smoothie and stood up. She loved Bill most in the entire world but sitting opposite him when he was hungover and whiny she didn't have energy for. So after she had made herself ready for the day she went down to the studio to do some recordings.

Bill collected glasses when his phone rang. He looked at it and saw his ex's name and hoped she wouldn't say they would come early. He really needed to clean but also take a shower.

"She doesn't say why. She just refuses to go to you."

His ex had dropped the bomb that his middle daughter didn't want to go to him, that she would stay at her mother's.

"Can I talk to her?" Bill asked, annoyed but worried. The hangover made his feelings too intense and he felt his patience bob around in his belly, like a cork on a stormy sea.

"She doesn't want to talk to you. What happened last week?"

"Nothing! We just took it slow? Aurora and I worked on the nursery and I think all of the girls had quite a lot of school work."

Bill sat down and looked at the glasses and bottles in front of him.

"And the baby doesn't take all your time?" His ex said carefully.

"No. But of course we have stuff to do and that doesn't disappear because they are here and… It's their sister. She will be a big part of their lives. If that's the problem she must get used to it."

His ex was quiet because Bill was right but even she had a hard time taking in that her daughters would get a new sister. She had accepted that Bill would have one more child but how close the child would be to her kids was harder to take in.

"Have you said anything about it? I mean… You haven't been so positive towards Aurora."

She was still quiet even if she hadn't said anything to her daughter about Aurora but it was embarrassing knowing how obvious her feelings towards Aurora were. She didn't want to be that ex, who seemed jealous and petty because she didn't see it like that. She was just a caring mother.

"Have you?" Asked Bill again. Her silence made him think she had and he sighed irritated.

"No, I haven't. Nothing at all."

Bill continued to clean up after the phone call even if his chest was heavy. He never thought he would be in this situation. He saw himself as a good father. A caring involved father even if he had a lot work outside of Sweden. He really thought all of his girls loved the idea of a little baby but his ex insinuated that it was the baby that made her not want to visit him anymore.

After cleaning up he laid down on the couch to rest his head and tired body but also think about everything with his daughter. He had seen signs but had just thought it was the teenage years starting. The sour mood, the more time alone and the attitude.

"Hey, is it that bad?" Asked Aurora when she came into the living room where Bill was lying. She meant the hangover but he just thought about his daughter. He looked up at Aurora when she patted his cheek softly and felt a need to talk to her. He knew she would get sad, really sad, not just because of her sensitive nature but also because of the hormones. He sat up on the couch and pulled her down carefully and then told her what his ex had said. He looked at Aurora's face showing the feelings he felt. Sadness, guilt, bewildered.

"Is it my fault? Should I maybe tone down? I know it's much about the baby…" She looked down while tears started to run down her cheeks.

"No, no, no. This is not your fault. If it's someone's fault it's mine. This is your first child, of course it's a big deal. Of course you should be able to embrace that."

He laid her hair over her shoulder and caressed her neck.

Aurora looked at her husband who didn't just look hungover now but also broken. She moved closer to him to pat his chest.

"I'm sorry… This can't be easy for you and… I really want to help you, but I don't know how," Aurora said carefully while looking at Bill's face. He smiled sadly and laid his hand over her hand that laid on his chest.

"You can't. I must fix this. I must go to her and talk with her. Even if she doesn't want to."

Aurora nodded a bit and patted her belly, the baby moved around and made her feel hungry. Bill looked at her belly too where he could see how his daughter danced around. He laid a big hand over Aurora's navel and made a circle to calm down the little one.

"What will happen if she can't accept the baby?" Aurora looked at the belly when she asked and thought for a second about the possibility that Bill would leave her and their child. It was too painful to think about, still the thoughts were there now and it made her chest hurt.

Bill looked at Aurora's face. She looked worried and small, like something little could break her completely.

"She must accept her sister."

"But if she doesn't? Maybe she doesn't even see the baby as her sister?"

"She must. There is nothing else."

Bill sounded determined but he was also scared. He didn't want to think about what such a thing could lead to.

×××

He had sent a text to his ex to say that he would come and they could stay at home for a while. It was noticeable in her text that she wasn't that positive to him forcing their middle daughter to talk but didn't feel she could stop him either, it was his daughter too.

Bill took off his jacket and boots after he had come in through the cold autumn winds and hugged his youngest daughter who had come running towards him.

His ex looked at him with a questioning look and crossed her arms.

"You look tired…"

"Yeah…" Bill didn't say anything more because he didn't want to say he was hungover the day his girls would come to him.

"She's in her bedroom…" said his ex and moved away so Bill could release his youngest and walk to their middle daughter. Bill took a deep breath and walked to the closed door. He knew it would probably be emotional and that his daughter would probably be angry but mustered the courage to knock on her door.

"Yeah?" She said with attitude but did answer. She probably thought it was her mother. Bill opened the door carefully and gave his daughter a look who sat leaned against the headboard in her bed, playing with her phone.

"What are you doing here?! Leave me alone!" She screamed to her father that just took some steps into her room.

"I said leave!" Her dad didn't move so she stood up to try to push him out. It was useless because he didn't even move an inch. His daughter made a sound of frustration and laid down in bed with her face in her pillow. She tried to grab her earphones but her father took them quickly.

"Honey, we need to talk. I don't understand."

"Of course you don't…" she said bitterly.

Bill sat down on the edge of her bed and sighed.

"I don't want you to feel like this. And I got so sad when your mother said to me you didn't want to come to us."

She was quiet because she really hated hearing that her dad was sad but one word made her continue to pout: us. He and his little happy family.

"Is it because of the baby?" Asked Bill with a heavy chest.

"No!" She said even if it was partly about that. She also knew it was stupid to blame a little baby, not even born.

"So what is it then? I really don't understand." Bill was on his way to lay a hand on her back but paused. She would probably be even more irritated than she was if he touched her. She laid quietly a while thinking about what to say, thinking about what she actually felt. She sat up with a jerk and gave her dad a killer look.

"You're so gross!"

Bill looked at her shocked, both by the movement and her words.

"Sorry?" He said with furrowed brows.

"You're gross and pathetic and… embarrassing. I wish you weren't my dad."

Bill looked at her hurt and looked down at the floor. His daughter was close to stopping her words by seeing her father's hurt face but chose to continue.

"Your movies are pathetic. You and Aurora are gross and you're just embarrassing. And everyone is talking about you."

Bill sighed and dragged his hands over his jean clad thighs. His hands became more and more sweaty.

"I didn't know you felt like this… I've been an actor all your life…"

He looked at her while she looked out the window. She didn't want to look at him. Her words were mean. Especially the comment about her not wanting to have him as a father. She didn't feel like that and worried he would now give up on her and give his new baby more attention instead. They sat quietly until she started to cry. Bill looked at her with glassy eyes and touched her shoulder carefully. She threw herself into his arms and cried violently against his chest. Bill hushed her soothingly and hugged her. He pressed his lips against her temple and she breathed in her dad's scent.

"Don't leave us…"

"Hm?” Bill looked down at her by her words. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.

"Don't leave us for your perfect family."

Bill looked at her confused. It seemed like this was about other things than she had said earlier.

"But you're a part of my perfect family?" He looked down at her and laid his hand on her cheek. She still hugged his waist hard.

"But… Aurora and your child will be so cute… Probably perfect. And you already give her everything. Things we have never got."

"I'm sorry honey… I know it's different but… Me and your mother had another econom-"

"I didn't even have a nursery! I slept in your room!" She interrupted him with an upset voice and let her father go.

"But we didn't live in a house with nine bedrooms. We lived in an apartment with two bedrooms. And…" he looked towards the door to know her mother wouldn’t hear.

"Your mom didn’t have much of an income while Aurora… She has much more money and she wants the baby to have some things. It's her first child. She has you three, of course. But this is her baby. And it will be different from when you were a baby because it is a different time and you have different mothers."

"But you gave her the round room!" She whined and Bill gave her a crooked smile.

"Is that still a thing? I thought you were pleased with your room?"

She sighed and looked down at her hands embarrassed.

"Yes."

Bill held back a laugh while he played with a strand of her hair.

"It's because of the sun. You know, babies shouldn't lay in sunlight, there have been many accidents with babies getting too warm and that's the room that doesn't have morning sun."

His daughter looked up at him. It was actually a logical explanation and it made her sigh. She was stupid and childish.

"But must you and Aurora be so… clingy with each other? You're 45 years old!"

Bill still smiled.

"That doesn't mean I stop being in love."

His daughter gave him a grossed out look and Bill laughed a little.

"But okay, we should think about that. Do you want to come with me? Home to me and Aurora?"

She looked down at her hands again.

"Can I come tomorrow? I just want to…" she couldn't find a word but took a deep breath and Bill could still understand what she meant.

"Take the time you need. But honey, I love you and your sisters the most in the whole world. That I have two more people I feel those emotions for doesn't make me love you any less."

Bill patted her cheek fatherly and once again his daughter hugged him.

"I love you too… And I want you as my dad. And… I love the baby too."

×××

Aurora laid in bed against the mountain of decorative pillows, lifting her belly up to get some relief. The belly was big and heavy and when she felt like that Bill stood behind her and lifted it up with strong soft hands. It was already so big and both she and Bill wondered if she would be able to carry the child for eight more weeks. Bill still worried he may have had too many tall genes for her petite body so she couldn't handle his big baby. He himself wasn't such a big baby but his older brothers had been and also his youngest daughter.

Next to Aurora sat Bill's oldest daughter and looked worried at her dad's wife. She had gone to Aurora as soon as she got to know her father would leave and talk to her younger sister. She took the opportunity to be alone with Aurora and talk with her about it all.

"Are you okay?" She asked Aurora while she looked at the big belly. Aurora's body had changed a lot but she was still so small compared to the Skarsgårds.

"Yeah… Your dad must help me carry it a bit when he comes home." Aurora gave her a crooked smile and his daughter made a similar face.

"I don't know if it is a good idea for you to do that in front of my sister…"

Aurora was quiet because she really wanted to make Bill's child feel comfortable but she wasn't comfortable for the moment. She needed her husband helping her in the pregnancy and everyday it became harder and harder for her body.

"She has just realized you two…" his daughter got pink in the cheeks and Aurora gave her a wondering look.

"That you two… What you like to do when you're alone in here."

Aurora looked at her confused first but then realized what she meant.

"Oh! Oh… Oh god…" she laid her hands over her face embarrassed. All of it was embarrassing, that this actually was something both Bill's oldest and middle daughter had thought about and that his oldest now told her that.

"It's okay. It's… Okay. I get it. You know me and Ahmen do it too."

Aurora gave her an uncomfortable smile.

"Have you talked with your parents about that?"

"Mom knows. You will not tell dad, right?" His daughter suddenly looked worried. Aurora sighed deeply.

"I've said to you that you shouldn't tell me things you don't want your dad to know. I don't want to lie to him."

If she had been the girl's mother it would be different, then she should have wanted to know everything but even if she loved his kids she wasn't their mother and didn't need to get in conflicts with Bill because of them.

"But Lou!" The girl said frustrated.

"No, I've said this to you several times. I am your dad's wife first and foremost."

The girl crossed her arms but after a while sighed.

"Tell him then but… Tell him that I don't want to talk about it."

Aurora nodded once.

"Sure." She looked carefully at Bill's daughter who laid with her arm crossed but Aurora's eyes made her turn towards her and she smiled a little towards Aurora. Their relationship was great and the girl was mature and smart. Since the first weekend together their bond grew and it made everything much more simple. His oldest daughter could accept the songs about her dad, Aurora's revealing photo shoots and her constant snuggling with her father.

"So what do I need to change to make your sister more comfortable?" Aurora asked as she tried to massage her own back. The girl looked at her and her belly.

"Sit up," said she determinedly and moved closer to Aurora. Aurora gave her a strange look.

"I've seen dad do it, move so I can sit behind you."

Aurora laughed lovingly and sat up so she could sit behind her and massage her lower back.

"Thank you, it already feels better," she said with a giggle. "But your sister?"

"Oh, I don't think you can do so much, to be honest. Maybe don’t remind her what you do with dad when you're alone…"

Both of them became silent with embarrassment.

"Do you think she can accept the baby?"

"Of course! She even knits a hat for her in school!"

Aurora looked back at the teenage girl with a big smile.

"Really? That's so sweet!"

"Yeah but pretend you don't know anything, I think it should be a surprise."

When Bill came home with his youngest daughter they heard old music by Post Malone and the door to Aurora's closet room stood open. Bill didn't really think the music was that old until Aurora said she had partied to that album on her sweet sixteen party. He agreed with her that it was old after that but in reality he had just wondered if he was old too.

His eight year old daughter ran into the other girls quickly and Bill could hear her asking how Aurora and the baby were feeling, like a little doctor. He smiled to himself and didn't disturb them until she had taken her bag and gone up to her room.

When he looked in at Aurora and his oldest daughter the both of them sat on the floor looking through clothes Aurora mostly saved for sentimental reasons. Clothes from tours, videos and premieres. Everything so extra and fun. His daughter's eyes were so big while looking at the impressive clothes.

"I will never be able to wear these again…" said Aurora like it was funny but Bill could hear the sadness too. She wore a big pink sweater and leggings, she looked most often like that for the moment so he could understand she must miss her old clothes.

"This is awesome!" His daughter held up a little white skirt with a low waist. There wasn't much fabric at all.

"Oh, I haven't used that one for ages! I think I was like 19? Must be under the time I saw your dad for the first time."

Both Bill and his daughter looked at Aurora with big eyes.

"19?? Eww daaad!! And weren't you with mom then?" His daughter had turned to him and he looked horrified.

"No, no, no!" He just said as a reflex even if it in its context became the wrong answer.

Aurora looked at them a bit amused and dragged her hands over a pair of old pants with corset lacing over the legs.

"I said, saw. I was nineteen the first time I saw a movie with your dad."

Bill smiled a bit to himself and leaned against the door post. He liked hearing how she had thought he was hot long before they got together, even if she was so young then. He himself had started to hear about Aurora under the same time but then she was just a random pop girl, no one he really gave any attention to.

"It was that romantic one, you know when he kills like everyone, you know?" Said Aurora with an almost blushy smile. It was also the movie she had quoted the first time they had met. She looked at her husband and played with her hair.

"Cute, cute, cute. But this," said his daughter and pointed at them, "this is the shit you can't do when my sister comes. You must start acting like a married boring couple."

Bill looked at her and scratched his neck uncomfortably. It was a bit embarrassing being berated by his own daughter. Aurora looked down at her clothes again. It would be hard to act like his daughter wanted. She was clingy and needy as a person.

His daughter continued to look at the clothes. Under some other things she found several unused thongs with bunny tails. Bill smirked embarrassed and so did Aurora towards him. Both of them thought the same thing: hippity hop.

"Oh god…" said his daughter and laid her hands over her face.

"I had the same kind for a photoshoot! I just got some more with me!" Said Aurora and hid them but it wasn't the whole truth.

×××

Aurora sat on top of Bill while he patted her belly. They were in bed, taking the moment alone to be really close. Her hair had grown and laid in wild curls around her shoulders while Bill's hair stood up because she had dragged her hands so much through it. She had denied him sex because of his daughter's presence and he felt a bit frustrated. One week without sex. It was the new thing now. Every other week.

"You just say that they can't hear so you can get some, your oldest actually says they talk about us having sex!" She said with a low but upset voice.

"Of course we have?" He made a gesture to the belly.

"Yeah but they shouldn't think about it."

Bill sighed. It was an awkward situation that his daughters were so conscious of his sex life but at the same time, his wife was pregnant, it was obvious they slept with each other and also it’s completely natural for a grown up couple. They looked at each other seriously but it soon changed to something else, the erotism was floating around them.

He dragged his hands up to her naked chest while she moved her hips sensually over his. They moved against each other with their underwear on and craved even more intimacy. One week, one week, thought Bill to himself.

The next day they had agreed to have as little physical contact as they could, they wouldn't talk about their latest photoshoot and keep the door closed to the nursery. Both of them could see why the designer baby clothes and the perfectly decorated nursery could be provoking, even if the both of them knew Aurora mostly did it for herself. It wasn't like a baby would care about the pink walls with clouds or the Tiffany decorations. The daughter with Aurora would have a totally different upbringing than his older daughters.

Aurora was nervous. She mostly walked around, even if she had awful back pains. Bill laid on the couch in the living room playing with his phone. He was in a conversation with a guy about sponsoring a new restaurant and just tried to focus on that but it was hard when Aurora wobbled around. He looked at her walk from the kitchen, into the dinning room, through the living room out in the hallway and then back to the kitchen again. He sighed to himself, to stress like that wasn't good for her.

"Babe, come here," he shouted after her and laid his phone on the coffee table. They were alone on the first floor, his oldest was with her boyfriend in her bedroom while his youngest was in the TV room.

She looked extra nervous while walking towards him. It looked like she thought he was angry at her. She played with her long nails and the big football jersey she wore. Bill smiled to calm her down and sat up with a bit of a groan.

"It will be okay. She was okay yesterday. She just needed some time," he said and pulled her down on the couch so he could kiss her lips.

"I don't know, I have a bad feeling…" she said and continued to play with her nails with a low gaze. Bill sat up even more and looked at her with searching eyes. He didn't really believe her feeling but it was something with those extreme nerves that also made him nervous.

The both of them got a notice on their phones 15 minutes later that someone stood outside of the door. They could see his middle daughter and ex through the camera and Bill pressed the button to let them in. Aurora sat close to him and he gave her a final kiss before he stood up. They must be grown up now. A boring married couple. Aurora looked up at him but chose to stay on the couch. She was nervous she would say the wrong things in front of his ex.

When Bill came out, in the hallway stood his daughter and ex already there, no one of them had taken off their outerwear and looked like they would leave again.

"Hey?" He said a bit doubtfully and smiled towards his daughter. He walked up to her to give her a hug and she answered with open her arms.

"Aren't the others here?" Said his ex and looked around. It was too big to see anything else than the hallway by doing that but it came as a reflex for her.

"Of course," said Bill shortly with a smile. He tried to be as normal as possible. His ex looked down at the shoes standing by the door. A pair of Nike sneakers didn't fit in and she also recognized them but she didn't say anything.

"Aurora?" She asked instead and looked up at Bill. Bill glanced at his daughter quickly, he had seen in the corner of his eye that she looked away when Aurora's name was mentioned.

"She's in the living room. She has back pains."

His ex nodded and looked down at their daughter who stood with her eyes in the ground.

"Maybe we can have a coffee or something?" Said his ex carefully, she didn't want to sound impolite but she wanted to come in and talk.

"Sure, sure," said Bill with a nod and made a symbolic gesture to the kitchen. While they took off their outerwear he walked into Aurora in the living room. She stood leaned against the couch and dragged her hands over her belly.

"God, she just kicks my ribs over and over…" she said lowly. Bill smiled with mixed feelings. He couldn't really help and now he couldn't even pretend to help with pats and kisses.

"We will have a coffee in…" Aurora interrupted him with a loud groan and leaned forward. Bill walked up to her fast, if something was happening he must act.

"Hey, hey, are you okay?"

Aurora made a pained sound and leaned her forehead against his chest.

"I don't know…" She made the same pained sound again and pushed her face even harder against Bill. He held her in his arms when he noticed she couldn't hold herself up.

"Oh god… Bill!" She said with panic and then a loud cry. "It feels like last time! The miscarriage!"

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #2023 #a new chapter #love just happens #aurora lou #lou

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pinkxpunkstar · 4 months

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♤Lackadaisy♤

Rocky x afab!mexican!reader

Chapter 1: Did you hear?

Summary: Your a lovely cat who lives near her family because your still accustomed to your mom’s cooking, and your father help, like killing a spider, your at the age of 22, you work as many things; Repairer, Mechanic, Babysitter, Cleaner, but getting a job that is meant for a man, even if he’s you’re a woman is a little hard, especially in 1927, it has been a little hard finding a job, since a group of gangsters started crawling more in town causing mischief, and mayhem in town. Little did you know a gang was exactly what you needed to get a job! And maybe even finding a lover too~.

Characters: You, Ivy, Freckle, Mitzi, Viktor, Your Brother; Ray

Authors Note: I apologize for any misspelling mistakes. I also tried my best with Viktor speaking in Russian but if it’s no good then corrections are always welcome! ♡

Warning: None!

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”Come on! You owe me a dance!” Ivy said excitedly, already grabbing the ginger’s paw, trying to flirt her way in with the ginger cat and Freckle’s response is “I do?” Freckle said confused to Ivy’s action as she tugs him in for a dance “Yes I’ve decided, you know the Charleston?” “No” “The Lindyhop?” “No.” “The Roudabout? The Jingle Jangle?” “The Hoopty Noodle?” the cute pair went off to dance, and Mitzi watched them, with a heartwarming smile, remembering what it’s like to be young and in love, that heartwarming feeling inside

While Viktor gives them both death glare, until Mitzi pats the top of his paw, letting him know that they’re okay. Meanwhile Mr. Sable just being in the background drinking the alcoholic beverage, with disgust in his face.

Mitzi sighs as she looks down with a worried and tired look on her face, “What’s wrong? Is it new recruits? because I will gladly kick them out” Victor says to Mitzi, since he knows how Mitzi have been struggling ever since with her husband death, business went down and payments are increasing, so he does what he can for her

“No it’s not them I’m worried about” this confused Viktor so he asked Mitzi “Then why do you look so uhh what do you call it ‘blue’?” Victor said unsure of how to say the phrase correctly “Oh Viktor, what am i going to do? The business isn’t making any money, we have more damages and worries coming, and now the car is damaged, I just wish there was a way to fix the damages without having to pay too much money for it” “Hmm, maybe I can help” Viktor said not too sure if he should bring up the idea “What do you mean by that Viktor? Do you know someone? ” Mitzi asked, confused to why did Viktor sounded a little unsure, I mean this is Viktor we are taking about! He doesn’t even blink when a ferocious animal attacks him

“Yeah his name is Inez” Mitzi felt relief, maybe there’s hope after all! “He won’t do the job but he haves a oldest son, and he knows about mechanic as well, I can try to talk to him and convince him to help us” “Wait wha- convince? Why do you have to convince him? Isn’t that his job?” “He knows about mechanic, but he doesn’t work as one” “Well I still appreciate it Viktor, thank you so much dear” “No thank you’s yet, I still have to talk to him, I just hope they still have the same number as before” “If you don’t mind me askin love but how come you guys haven’t talk?” “We stopped talking, after he found out I worked for lackadaisy” “Oh, is that…so?” Mitzi said feeling confused and unsure what to say next

*Ring* *Ring*

“Hello? Who is this” “It’s Viktor” “Oh Viktor, I wasn’t expecting you for you to call, how’s it been?” “I’ve been fine but uhh I have a problem” “A problem?” “Yes well… uhh … a business problem” “ Umm…Viktor I’m not sure I’m even supposed to be even talking to you” “I know, but I really need this favor y/n” Viktor says the last word like a whisper, so weak and so crumbly “*sigh* All right fine” “Thank you, meet me at Little Daisy Cafe in the afternoon” “All right, I’ll be there, see you then” “Yes and

y/n?” “Um yes?” “thank you” “…” “Goodbye. Viktor, see you then”

“Hey! Who are you talking to?” your brother asked curiously

You and your brother decided to keep up the family business, which means you guys work the same job but your brothers have more clients than you do, you guys decided to take a day off

Until you both heard the phone ringing and you brother gladly took it

“An old friend, a very old friend” You explained in little detail

Not sure if you should tell your brother, besides what can happen?

#lackadaisy #rocky x reader #rocky rickaby #ivy lackadaisy #freckle lackadaisy

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bensonsballerz · 9 months

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i desperately want to die, a (wip) story of my oc, edith, and @tr85n's oc stella! in this, ive assumed stella is 16 and thus edith is 37. edith is also married to cj LOL

based on this post

Another day, another fight between Stella and Dad.

It was becoming routine, at this point; Stella and their father fight, and Stella goes to Edith’s house to get away from him. Edith hears from Stella all about how Dad “doesn’t understand her” and “he’s such an asshole,” while Edith hears from Dad over the phone about how Stella “is acting out” and “can you talk to her?” And every time, Edith tries to give her advice and thoughts to both parties, but to no avail; the cycle always repeats

It was occurring again. Edith gets a phone call from her little sister moodily asking to come over, and against her better judgment, she allows her to come over. Edith is mentally preparing for the repeated onslaught of insults against their father (she had said to respect him and not insult him, but it obviously didn’t work) when Stella walks in, using the spare key Edith gifted her.

But something was different, and Edith could already begin to see what the problem was this time. Stella barely has a moment to step across the threshold before Edith is asking about it.

“What is that?” Edith gestures to her hoodie, eyebrows knitted in a puzzled and concerned frown.

Stella follows the gesture towards her hoodie, a deep black color with white lettering on it, saying “I desperately wish to die,” with the second word being in a beautiful cursive that was unlike the grim phrase in question.

“Oh, this? It’s a hoodie,” the younger Dunwoody bluntly responds, smiling cheekily. Edith rolls her eyes in reply; either she would avoid the question or would too offensively face it. This was the latter

“I know that, Stella. I meant the design; why does it say… that?”

Stella looks at her older sister with a smile, but it isn’t like her typical, cheery one: it’s one of melancholy and exhaustion.

“What if I have outgrown the pastels?” She answers vaguely, walking past Edith to go and find her usual spot on the couch next to her cat, Miso. “Pink’s not really my color anymore, sissy.”

Frustration bubbles in Edith as she turns to face her sister, for she did not appreciate the tiptoeing around her question her sister was obviously doing. For a while now, Stella was moving away from pink towards the binary colors of black and… well, just black, actually. It didn’t alarm Edith as much as it alarmed their father. When Edith was a teenager, a lot of her peers dressed up in dark clothes and makeup; it was just something that they did. But the dark colors her little sister embraced instead of her usual pinks and yellows was not what was alarming Edith.

“I know that, too,” she repeats, walking towards Stella, who purposely was looking not at Edith, but at her cat, “I mean, why does it say that you want to die? Dad would never get that for you.”

Stella, who has been petting Miso, pauses, a sad and almost guilty look on her face. Edith has gotten good at reading people and predicting their next move, but now? It was like her baby sister was a completely different person.

A tension settles in Edith as a grave realization picks and prods at her brain. “Stella, where did you get your hoodie?” She purposefully phrases it so that Stella cannot wiggle her way out of the question, or offer a vague answer.

Stella won’t look at her as she sinks deeper into the couch, hands now in her pockets and her teeth biting her lip. Unlike their father, Stella struggled more so to lie or talk back to Edith, for the latter found that being more direct and honest with her was better. And again, unlike their father, Stella could not fault Edith for any anger issues.

“I bought it,” she finally says, although it’s obvious to both of them that it’s a lie.

Edith frowns and puts her hands on her hips, “You don’t have money.”

“I used my allowance.”

“Dad doesn’t give you allowance.”

“Well, he-”

“Stella,” Edith firmly interrupts, arms now crossed, “you know I don’t like being lied to. So, tell me the truth: who gave you the hoodie?”

Stella could say anything, at this point; a friend gave it to her, she found it, etc., because Edith already knew it came from that dumb wannabe emo shop, Carly’s. But nothing could prepare her for Stella’s actual response

“I stole it.”

It comes out as a quiet mumble from Stella, who has somehow sunk deeper into the couch. It’s why Edith thinks she’s misheard her at first, although her eyes go wide regardless.

“What?”

“I said I stole it!” Stella says more clearly and loudly, almost shouting. Her voice and lip quivers, and the gumballs in her head begin growing scarlet. Edith can feel hers growing scarlet as well, completely baffled by the admission that Stella Gillian Dunwoody stole something.

Edith, still in shock, mutters a “shit” under her breath as she runs a hand down her face; their father always emphasized to follow the rules to a T and to always respect and listen to those older than you, so there was no way in Heaven or Hell that Stella, nice and pure and wonderful Stella, would do this without consequence.

“You what?” She replies in disbelief after a moment; now, Edith was now not only upset about the design of the hoodie, but now she was upset about how she got it.

Stella scoffs and gets up from the couch and walks to the other side of the living room, now hugging herself. “What? Do you need to hear it again?” She says, defensively

“No, of course I don’t need to hear you again, Stella; I heard you very clearly,” she shot back, still trying to wrap her head around this entire situation. “I’m disappointed in you. I just- I don’t understand why you would steal such a thing.” Edith says it with an emphasis like it was a dirty word that would have the police come knocking on her door the second she uttered it.

Stella scoffs like the reason was the most obvious thing in the world and, truth be told, it was. “Because I wanted it?”

Edith still didn’t get it. She pinches the bridge of her nose and narrows her eyes; she’s going to need C.J.’s migraine pills after this. Despite her frustration and disappointment, though, she is more concerned with the answer she’s anticipating from her sister

“Why would you want that?”

Stella doesn’t reply. Edith swallows a lump in her throat, lip trembling. Her voice grows more gentle. “Stella…”

With her back turned to her, Edith could only hear the beginning of Stella’s crying, her sniffles pulling at her. Even though Edith should still be angry, should still be firm, gaining a baby sister and watching her grow has made her grow soft. Marriage wouldn’t help that, either. Edith walks over to her, placing her hands on her shoulders and turning her around, although Stella’s gaze was focused on the floor

“I just- I thought it would maybe get Dad to… listen to me, or something… I asked him at the store for it, but he said the design was ‘ridiculous’ and that I shouldn’t wear it. So-So when I-I-” Her voice has grown more shaken and despairing; Stella wipes tears from her eyes that are beginning to spill. “So when I… took it and brought it home, he started getting really mad that I disobeyed him and-and took it, even though it’s not that big of a deal!”

So he knows that it was stolen

Stella’s voice is raised at the end, and now she’s crying full on. Edith can’t help but bring her into a hug, gently rubbing her back to try and relax her, but to also relax herself. So, she wants to… die? Her happy, bubbly little sister… She wanted to die, and that terrified Edith; she couldn’t fathom her life without her, the first 21 years of her life without her feeling only like a prequel to an amazing story. She wants to begin by saying that it was a big deal and that theft was wrong but, surprisingly, the socially confused Edith knows even that wasn’t needed right now. C.J. would be proud of her, if she was here and not on a business trip.

#my post #edith dunwoody #stella dunwoody #regular show #regular show oc #wip

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 2 years

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Can I request a smut headcannon with Jay White? Thank you!

You’re welcome, darling 💕. Okay, so do the math: A Bowie song title + one phrase said by @letsgivethisonemoreshot + half a glass of wine on a chilly day off = This unedited mess (that will probably have sequels because I’m obsessed ngl 😂)

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @damnnhausen , @starwithaheart, @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @sldghmmr , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @blaquekittycat

The security camera focused on her face before the loud buzzing sound of the gates being opened were heard. She placed the thick green pile of dough in the security guard’s hand and whispered “The next time you keep me waiting that long, I’ll make sure to have this” She pointed towards the money “Shoved so far up your ass, you won’t be able to shit for a month! Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am”

“Great! Now take me to him”

The clicking of her heels against the white grimy floor was the only warning Jay had of her presence. The familiar sound made him smirk as he stared out the corridor from the Italian leather armchair. Her figure soon appeared, standing in front of his cell while the guard quietly made his exit.

“You’re late” He teased, already understanding there must have been a problem with security judging by the annoyed look on her face. If there was one thing she hated the most was lack of punctuality.

“Thank your amateurish lapdogs who somehow can make the simple task of opening a fucking gate seem like rocket science”.

Her temper, oh that temper was what made her cut out for this life and earned her nickname in this business. It was also the exact reason why Jay fell for her and decided to keep her in charge while he was in prison. No one could be as ruthless and precise as she was. The King Switch and Queen Bitch are the couple that will put an end to Bonnie and Clyde’s legacy.

Jay laughed at her snarky comment before patting his thigh “Come here”. She walked towards him and sat on his lap, her hands instantly undid his low bun and let his hair fall down on his shoulders “I like when you wear it down”. She brushed the soft semi-dark strands with her fingers as he pulled her closer to his body. Jay’s lips soon covered hers in a deep, passionate kiss. Tongues moving at their own deep and unrushed pace, taking their time in exploring each other.

“I’ll take care of it” He whispered against her lips, referring to the incident with the security guard.

“I already did” She pulled back, eyes intently staring at his gray orbs “I know how to handle these situations. I’m not some damsel in distress that needs your intervention, Jay!” Her voice had a hint of frustration behind it, making Jay sigh heavily “I’m not saying that! If I thought you were incapable of handling things I wouldn’t have let my business in your hands, would I?”

“No…I’m sorry. I’m just upset because I want you back home with me” Her fingertips traced the outlines of his face and Jay whispered “I know. I want to go home too, but we have to be patient, ok? I know this is not easy for you and we’re both suffering right now but we need to take it slow. The lawyer said Judge Moore won’t free me for the next two weeks because it’ll look suspicious, so we have to wait until the judge can sign off my release” Jay pulled the hair stick out of her hair, making the tight bun fall loose on her back. “Moore was a hard one to get, but we finally convinced him to work for us, so we have to take it slow. We can’t risk losing him, you know how beneficial he’ll be to our business, no?” He asked and she nodded in response.

“Two weeks, honeybee. Fourteen days, and everything will go back on track again, I promise” Jay kissed her lips and pulled her pencil skirt up to her hips. He turned her around so she could straddle his lap and soon he felt her heat above his groin through the track pants.

Jay’s hands caressed her inner thighs as their kiss deepened, his fingertips teased her outer lips and traced her bikini line before his middle finger circled around her entrance. “You came prepared, I see” He smirked, voice filled with happiness at meeting her bare core. “I don’t like wasting time” Was her brief response.

Her hands caressed down his carved abs, feeling each and every muscle beneath her palms “Fuck me” She whispered against his neck, tongue tracing his pulse point before her teeth scraped the warm, tanned skin “Please, I need you”.

Jay picked her up in his arms and placed her down on the king size bed. His hands pulled her white dress shirt apart, causing the buttons to fly away and fall randomly across the cell. His tongue traced the supple skin of her chest, licking and nipping the top of her breasts until his teeth bit on her clothed nipple. The feeling of the Leavers lace and her warm skin against his tongue had Jay groaning in pleasure. Her hands quickly pulled his cock out of the track pants and brushed the tip against her clit, teasing both of them at the same time.

“Put me in” He licked her hard nipple through the lace “Put me in you”

The minute he sank in, Jay wasted no time and quickly began to thrust his hips. She moved underneath him, eagerly following his moves and sinking her stiletto heels on his ass cheeks to keep him as close to her as she could.

“Harder” She moaned on his ear “Give it to me harder”

Jay held her hips against the mattress and moved faster, earning a loud moan from her. “Look at me” He closed one of his hands around her neck “Keep looking at me”.

Her hands tugged on his hair, pulling his face down so his forehead could rest against hers. They would have plenty of time to talk about business later, because right now the only thing that truly mattered was that the King was with his Queen once again.

#jay white fanfiction #jay white imagine #jay white x reader #jay white #switchblade jay white #njpw imagine #njpw smut #njpw wrestling #masochist writes

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hypaalicious · 2 years

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Some good tips I definitely did not figure out until I played most of a year of Twisted Wonderland:

Save your LP refill items for events that require you to farm lessons for event coins. I used to blow through them when I first started because the grind is REAL in this game, but once you get a decent roster it’s best to just stockpile.

Save your macarons/cupcakes/waffles/sugar for Training Camps. You’ll get the biggest bang for your buck, then. I used to blow through them in regular lessons too cause leveling EXP is ASS without them but… not the greatest use of items.

R cards can be your friend. In fact, they carried me through exams and most early content no problem. If you resolve to only use SRs/SSRs from jump you will not have enough mats to flesh out your roster quickly.

Save alchemy tokens for spellbooks. They are STINGY in this game! 😩

Spell scaling is super ambiguous; it won’t matter if your spell goes from level 1 to 2, but it will matter if the spell evolves from like Leaf Blast to Forest Strike. So pay attention to phrases like, “spell changes at level 5/10” and only use spellbooks to reach those benchmarks.

Card level does more for DPS than spells, so if you have to choose what to do first, just level your card and worry about tweaking the spells later. Unless it’s an SSR; you’ll wanna level that second spell up to 5 for Duo Magic!

When leveling cards, pick one character and stick with them as a lesson partner until you reach 1000 lessons so you can net an easy 50 gems. Don’t skip around like I did at first 🥲 I woulda had a lot more gems by now if I was smart LOL

Pay attention to the card type: Defense will be a tank but won’t do shit for DPS. Attack cards will be glass cannons. Balanced cards bring the best of both worlds.

During event shop things, save event currency to buy the keys first, then the SSR/SR Awakening potions, then any SR event card dupes. I don’t recommend buying the event R card dupes only because you’ll get a shitton of R awakening potions doing normal pulls or completing Twistune missions so saving event currency for the most rare things makes sense.

Only use your SSR/SR level uncap potions on event cards if you can help it. Those will be the hardest to get dupes on cause they’re limited.

Unless you will die without having your bias, refrain from pulling on standard banners. Event banners are more rare and anything in the standard pool has a chance to spark while you’re pulling for something else.

Please have one favorite, for the sake of your pocketbook. Especially if you’re F2P. You will not be able to get everyone’s cards. 🥲

The only thing worth buying with real money in the gem shop is the 30-day pass. The rest have HORRIBLE value, imo. I know I’m spoiled to shit by games like Arknights and PAD but twst is not that generous.

How to know if you pulled an SSR; watch the beginning animation of the pull(s). If Grim is on the balcony of the castle when it pans up, you got yourself an SSR. The mirror also says a different phrase than usual.

Twistunes suck, but you can make them suck slightly less by going into options and choosing “Light” setting. The distracting background animations will be minimized and you can actually focus on hitting them damn notes. 😑 Also, watch the demos so you can see what the timing or mechanics are. The Purple twistune mechanic is a MENACE and I simply refuse to do them past the bare minimum. The music don’t hit like that for me to justify putting myself through that torture.

Basic exams judge you on how much DPS you throw out. Defense exams judge you on how much HP you have left at the end. You’ll also wanna time it so that you defeat the other team on round 3 or 4, with your hardest hitting card for the highest possible score. Do NOT attempt Hard mode unless you got some sleek ass high leveled back to back Duo magic cause the difficulty spike is not a joke.

Playing on your phone and you listening to music or get a notif right before lessons start? Reload the game and turn off your other audio or else the game will glitch out and you’ll lose a lesson point. The reason for that is how they trigger lesson starts: by voice line. So if the game don’t pick up that the voice line started because you have music or any other app that has sound playing in the background, it won’t start the lesson. Learned this the hard way. 🥲

#there’s probably more but this is just off the top of my head through experience #btw this Vargas camp event is killin me smalls #why do I still not have enough mats to level these event card spells!! I’ve been grinding FOREVER #the event itself was funny as hell tho 😂#if there’s one thing twst is good at it’s character interactions and localization #like hats off to the narrative designers frfr #they don’t have awkwardly translated phrases trying to keep with the Japanese too hard #now granted that DOES mean you can’t use the dialogue as direct meaning to the Japanese but it still flows really well #okay it’s 3:30am ima go to bed LOL

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dyns33 · 1 year

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This problem about Art and AI scares me and makes me ask myself a lot of questions.

I don't understand how someone can write "a tree" into a search engine, see the image it creates, which may not even look like what they imagined, and proudly say "Wow, I did that !"

And at the same time it is not new. People were already stealing several drawings, to copy them and create a new "original" image. The difference in these shameful thefts was that these people had to draw a bit. Now they only type one sentence.

But there are also 3D printers. Real artists "sculptors" use them, they draw a sketch in the computer, the machine produces what they want, and they expose the result. But is it really their sculpture in the end ?

The script for an Italian film that will soon be released in cinemas was entirely written by an AI. Everyone wonders if the result will be good. And if it's good, is it the first script, or did a human read it and edit it ?

Same for translation. Computers are getting better and better, but there will always be mistakes, lapses, and turns of phrase that they won't think of, because they don't think.

You have to think and have ideas to make Art. Then you have to produce this Art.

This is one of the great debates, in many fields. The idea or the realization, which is more important ?

In science, there are theoreticians and engineers. They must work together to achieve a result, and they win prizes together.

In comics, there is the scriptwriter and the drawer.

In cinema, the director, the screenwriter, the editor, the actors, the lighting technician, the make-up artist, all the people who allow the film to be made, possibly in addition to the work on which the story is based.

There are ghost writers, paid to write for someone, who place an order with some guidance, and publish without saying they got help.

Art is not always made alone, but it is made between humans. It takes time, it is difficult, that's why some works are not finished, others exist in several copies. It's funny, because at one time, we refused to see that Art was so complicated, we only wanted the result. This seems to still be the case today, except there isn't even an artist anymore.

This form of “art” is a theft, and a risk of repetition, cold, without soul, without interest, which risks replacing real Art, or in any case destroying it.

Because why would artists want to continue to fight, to take time, money, health, for a result that will be ignored, criticized or stolen ? Even if it's their passion or their job, they will eventually stop.

And me who loves Art, who reads, goes to the cinema, to the museum, who listens to music, it really scares me, a world without Art, all because some find it funny to have a little glory without make any effort.

Respect Art, respect the artists, and respect yourself first. There is nothing good in using AI generators.

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xxruinaxxmcu · 2 years

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Jack Thompson X Reader

What lies Before us

Masterlist (Previous Chapters and Book 1)

Chapter 4

Y/N had said the men goodbye before giving them a moment alone, already making her way to the plane.

“So this is goodbye”, Sherman said, slapping his Lieutenant on the shoulder.

“For now.” Thompson gave them a grateful smile. “Thank you. Really.”

“Maybe one day you can tell us what this was about”, Clark said with a grin.

Jack huffed: “Yeah, one day. When we know that the knowledge won’t get you killed.”

“So that’s what you do now? Hunt Reds through residential neighbourhoods?”, Keynes asked sarcastically.

“More paperwork than gun fights”, Thompson cocked his head to the side, “In hindsight, that’s probably a good thing. Wouldn’t want to do this on a daily basis again.”

“Yeah”, Clark said, tipping his head to the plane, “I bet.”

Thompson followed his motion with his eyes. He knew what Clark was insinuating.

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?”, Sherman asked, grinningly.

“Couldn’t keep her away from a fight if I tried”, Jack replied honestly.

“You better invite us all to your wedding, lieutenant. After all the Y/N-this, Y/N-that, and saving your bacon here, you owe us that”, Sherman announced, earning a laugh from his friends.

Thompson could feel his cheeks heat up: “We’re not even engaged, you know that? Hell, most people don’t even know that we have a thing going.”

“C’mon, Thompson, you’ve fought Japs, Reds and who knows what else, you better not get cold feet ‘cause of a lady”, his friend said, both teasingly, but also encouragingly.

Thompson shook his head: “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, you better promise me, you don’t mess this up”, Sherman said, now fairly serious. To take the edge off and to make everyone have a laugh, he added: “I’d suggest not talking about your extensive knowledge of venereal diseases.”

“I know who to call for relationship advice.”

They shook hands, said goodbye. They’d see each other again – and until then, they didn’t need to hear him thanking them a million times. They knew.

With one last wave, he bid them farewell before taking his bag and making his way to the plane. He wasn’t sad one bit to leave DC behind. Since the entire Chadwick debacle, he had kind of given up upon the integrity of many things, including certain parts of politics.

Jack saw Y/N watch him enter the plane and gave him a tired smile. She was drained – physically less than emotionally. And in all fairness, so was he.

He sat down next to her and soon after, the plane took off.

“You did good”, she said silently, looking at him and grabbing his hand.

“So did you”, he squeezed her hand before closing his eyes, “Let’s never do it again, though.”

“Agreed.”

……

Stepping off the plane, Y/N realised: “Hey, d’you think I can use my own apartment again? I would’ve banked my money on Underwood to sniff me out, and I guess you took care of that problem.”

“Probably”, he said, giving her a look, “I also changed the name on the registry.”

“You didn’t need my signature?”, she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He returned with a sheepish grin: “It’s the privilege of a federal agent.”

“Oh well”, she shrugged, “all the better.”

They proceeded to drop off their gear at the SSR, and given it was just before 10 at night, only the nightshift was there to greet them. Then, Thompson offered to drive Y/N to her place.

“You want to see if the Reds raided while I was gone?”, she asked, pretty confident that there was nothing to be seen. It was more of a nicely phrased invitation to her apartment.

He gave her a curious look, but shrugged. “Sure.”

When she opened the door, her apartment was as she had left it. “Kind of them”, she remarked sarcastically, placing her bag on the floor. She felt relieved. More than anything, right now, she felt grateful. Grateful that they’d made it back, that they managed to kill Dottie, that they had killed the most important soviet asset that had run around in the US to this date. Grateful that she had been given the chance to live a life aside the fighting and the war.

“Y/N?” Jack brought her back to reality.

“Yes?”

“You alright?”, he asked, tilting his head and squinting at her ever so slightly.

“Haven’t been better in a long time”, she confirmed with a tiny smile, “killing Underwood – that’s a pretty big win, Jack. And you took that shot.”

He cocked his head to the side: “Yes, after you suicidally jumped her.”

“Yes”, she said elongated, “arguably not the best attack I’ve ever mounted.”

“A repeat is very much not appreciated.”

“Haven’t planned it.”

“Sure about that? Seems like lately, suicidal attacks were your modus operandi”, he huffed, leaning against her kitchen table and crossing his arms, “Or maybe you just love giving me heart attacks.”

“Modus Operandi?”, she mocked, “Oh sorry, professor, for doing my job. Couldn’t change the fact that our opponent was the soviet equivalent of a she-demon.”

“Do you still have the blueprint?”, he questioned, tilting his head.

Y/N pointed to her bag: “In there. I thought about handing it back to Stark.”

“No, we destroy that thing. Stark’s track record in having things stolen from him makes him the least qualified to hold it – poisonous gas, death rays, bombs, I really don’t want to run after the next commie in two weeks’ time.”

She laughed at his distrust of the wonder-boy of American industry, but she understood it more than well.

“Fine”, she agreed, “I’ll shredder it first thing tomorrow.”

“Why did the Arena Club want that thing in the first place? I thought they were all about money and power, not wanting to nuke a city.”

Y/N shrugged: “I have no idea. And unfortunately, though most of the Council of Nine melted away, the Arena Club proper is still out there. I wonder if they even knew about this.” She tipped her head into the direction of the blueprint: “Or if this was solely need-to-know only.”

“Seems like the SSR remains relevant for some time”, Jack stated dryly, hinting at Vernon Master’s prediction of their looming irrelevance.

“Yeah”, Y/N huffed, “especially because it’s still highly likely the mole within the FBI is still there. Unless they happened to send him into DC, too, which would be very dumb.”

Jack rolled his eyes. Of course this wasn’t done done. It would only be done, he began to fear, once he was six feet underground.

“But”, Y/N said with a smile, “at least those idiots are not trained murderers. So it should be less of a nightmare to get them to talk to us. And as far as the moles are concerned – if they’re from the same calibre as poor Owens, then I’m sure they’ll almost uncover themselves.”

“In hindsight, I guess I should be glad you work for the Americans. Catching you seems like a nightmare.”

She laughed: “Well, Chief, otherwise I’d be dead. Believe it or not, but the Gestapo did try all they could to sniff out people like me.”

“Were you ever interrogated?”, he asked grimly.

She pulled a face: “Not officially. I tried to remain close enough to the ones who were in charge of that so they’d not have the professional distance to do it.” She hoped that this would make his anxiousness go away – after all, she knew that even for those who never saw action in Europe, the organisations of the SS, particularly of the Gestapo, had reputations that preceded them.

For a moment, neither of them said a word. Y/N went to check that her front door was securely locked for the night, a precautionary measure. Then, she walked over to Jack, leaning next to him against her table. “You don’t have the nightshift on Saturday, do you?”

She was fairly sure it was Ramirez’ turn.

“Why?”

“We still have something that has to be done”, she said cryptically, earning a confused look from the blond next to her.

“I’m pretty sure-“

“Your mother”, she said with a grin, “I should drop by to apologise for falling off the face of the earth, right?”

He laughed in response – though, admittedly, he was also rather nervous at the thought. He knew that the last time Y/N had met his parents, they had been friends – best friends even. That was an eternity ago, before the war, before the hurt and the pain, before their falling out and their spectacular rekindling. Before moving beyond friends. And he knew his parents – his mother particularly. She’d know. She’d know the moment she’d lay eyes on him, rather than her.

But he also knew that despite being terrified of the awkward comments that could ensue, it wasn’t like he didn’t want them to be true.

“You’re right”, he agreed quietly, “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Y/N looked at him with a smile. She could tell he was nervous because of it.

“Don’t be”, she said silently, pushing herself off the table to stand right in front of him.

“Am I that easy to read?”

“To me? Like a book”, Y/N replied satisfied, “But that’s not a bad thing, is it? Especially because words aren’t your specialty.”

She was right – he was quite relieved he didn’t have to say most things to her face. That made things significantly easier in some moments, but a billion times worse in others.

“Tell me”, he said, flickering his gaze to her lips, “What do I think now?”

“For that, no mind reader is needed”, she chuckled before leaning in to kiss him. They were miles away from being the stereotypical ‘newly-in-love’ couple that could hardly take their eyes off each other or stop kissing each other, after all, there were a thousand ways to express the sensation of caring, of love, through other means than simply the physical. But Jack didn’t forget the promise he had made himself in their hotel room in DC. And as their kiss grew deeper, their bodies closer, he was quite certain that the time was right.

“Do you-“

“Oh God, Jack”, Y/N interrupted breathlessly, “do you really think I wouldn’t want to?”

……

Getting dressed the next morning, Y/N was in the process of brushing out her hair when Jack entered the room.

“We’re gonna end this.”

“End what?”, she asked back, tilting her head. There were many things that could have been meant by that – from breakup to her hair routine.

“I’m done lying to the pencil pushers in the SSR” he specified, leaning against the doorframe.

She laughed: “For the record, we never lied. We just weren’t that forthcoming, either.”

“Look”, he pointed at her, “They’ve seen you kill Soviet spies. They’ve heard you storming a building. Killing mafioso. Extracting bullets. That’s a track record that should speak for itself for why you’re at the SSR.”

“You’re so worried that they’ll think I’m just an agent because of having something with the Chief, when that’s literally irrelevant”, she shook her head amusedly, “No offence, but you’ve made me develop a thick skin when joining the SSR. I don’t care what they say. And if Lee makes a comment, let him. I know what I’m capable of, just as I know what you’re capable of. And until I make them change their minds, that’s going to be enough.”

“So we’re in agreement?”

“You have had a considerable harder time not being truthful”, she shrugged, “so it’s going to be your call.”

They entered the SSR at 9:00 – most agents were either already there, or just settling in.

“Morning, Chief”, Ramirez gave him a nod, then looked at Y/N, “Agent L/N.”

“Everyone, listen up!”, Thompson announced to get everybody’s attention, “The operation in DC was a success – the gas was located and is now in the hands of the SSR. The item that the Russians wanted stolen from the Arena Club is recovered and will be destroyed in a minute. And, above all, Dottie Underwood’s dead. Which means we have one killer less to worry about. But don’t think this is all over and you can just enjoy retirement now, because Agent Owens was killed by gunmen in his hospital bed. We have reason to believe that there are still countless Soviet agents on American soil. Which means, until every last Red’s dead or incarcerated in the country, you keep digging.”

“Congratulations, Chief”, McKinley said, looking genuinely impressed.

His staff was about to return to their chores when Thompson added: “And one more thing, to avoid rumours. Y/N and I are-“

He could see everyone turning to Agent Peterson. Thompson frowned, following their gaze: “You knew?”

“No!”, the Agent said defensively, “I never followed you or anything, if that’s what you mean, Chief. But my brother was at a reunion a few weeks ago. He went to Cornell, sir.”

Y/N started laughing when she saw Thompson’s slightly embarrassed face and walked to her table.

“Well, now, at least all of us are in the know”, she said, before heading over to the machine to shredder the Stark blueprints.

……

“And you’re sure you didn’t fail to update me on any family drama?”, Y/N asked, sitting in the passenger’s seat of Jack’s car – the car that by now had practically turned into their shared vehicle.

Jack shot her an amused look: “Who do you think we are? No, Gam-Gam’s still occupied with her garden, ma’s still working at the local church, and pops is still working at JP Morgan. You know, you were gone for five years, not five decades.”

“Five years ago, the US entered the war, in the meantime we invented a new type of bomb, Hitler’s dead and we’ve switched from hunting fascists to hunting communists”, Y/N retorted, “much has changed, so who knows, maybe your ma picked up a new hobby or somethin’.”

He laughed quietly, thinking about how he himself was taken aback by just how ‘all the same’ things were when he came home. It didn’t fit at all with how he had felt – everything had changed for him, and yet, here were people who expected life to resume as it had been before.

It was the familiarity that now seemed so foreign that had made it so incredibly difficult to go home.

Y/N curiously studied his face that went from amused, to pained.

“They’ve hardly changed”, he said, more to himself than to her.

“But their boy never came home from war”, she ended his thought. “You know, that’s what I always found to be stupid about ‘the army makes you a man’ trope. Means that no one from home is there to see you grow up. You just come back changed, and everyone has to adapt to the new reality.”

“It’s okay, I don’t visit them much.”

“Yeah”, Y/N pressed her lips together, “and is that because you’re busy, or because you’re avoiding them?”

“Probably both.”

She huffed at his honesty.

It felt so strange to her driving up the road leading to the small house in which Jack’s family lived – they still lived in the same house they had lived when Jack had been a schoolboy. They used to cycle up here, it wasn’t that far from their school.

“Oh”, she exclaimed when she saw that his parents came out the front door when the car neared the house and waved at them through the car window.

“They’re excited.”

“Yeah”, she snorted, “I can tell.”

She got out of the car and had hardly had the time to shut the door when Angeline had given her a tight hug.

“Y/N, darling, it’s so good to see you!”

“It’s great to see you, too, Angeline!”, Y/N squeezed out with a laugh.

“Careful, ma, you don’t want to cut off her airway”, Jack commented sarcastically, greeting his father.

“It’s been years, Jack”, Angeline said, both accusingly, but also joyously whilst taking a look at Y/N: “You look fantastic, Y/N.”

“So do you”, she retorted the compliment and turning to Lucas Thompson.

“It’s great to see you, too, sir”, she said with a smile and greeted him, too.

“How long until you drop that ‘sir’?”, he asked her, as he had done many times before.

“I apologise”, Y/N laughed, “creature of habit.”

At the dinner table, Y/N was – unsurprisingly – faced with the obvious questions.

“Jack mentioned you now work with him”, Angeline began, “when did you start?”

“Actually, I did right after the war ended”, Y/N said, giving Jack a look, “But we weren’t always in close divisions of the organisations, that only intensified recently. Once my contract was over for my war-time engagement, I started here.”

“Did you work as a nurse?”, Lucas asked.

Oh, about as far away from a nurse than was possible. “No”, she shook her head, “I worked for the Allied intelligence offices.” That wasn’t even technically a lie – it could have referred to simply working in Bletchley, or well, her actual work. “That’s why my skillset was useful for this career.”

“It is unfortunate you young people had to go through this”, Angeline said with a sigh, “After we’ve just had a war.”

Y/N nodded. Unfortunate indeed. “It is. But there was some solace in knowing that our homes were save. When looking at Europe or Asia, entire countries stood ablaze, for seven years.”

“And Jack, anything we should know about your last months on the job?”, Lucas asked, becoming more serious, “I heard about the unfortunate passing of Vernon, God bless his soul.”

Y/N almost started laughing – unfortunate death? She had hardly ever been less sad about someone’s demise than the one of Masters.

“Yeah, a freak accident from what it sounds like. The LA SSR’s still working on that. Unfortunately, they’re less efficient than us”, Jack evaded with a lot of cynicism, “and no, not really. Hunting communists, organised crime and corruption. The usual.”

It dawned on Y/N that his parents had no idea that their son had been shot and could have easily died just a few months ago.

“Y/N?”, Angeline looked doubtingly from her son to the woman sitting next to Jack, “What do you think? How have the last months been?”

“Oh, you know”, Y/N started, thankful she was the way more proficient liar than her partner in hunting crime, “Very busy, we’ve only begun to understand how well-connected the communists already are and have been since the war. But we’re making good progress.”

Angeline seemed to be more satisfied with her answer than with Jack’s and Y/N made a mental note to carefully instruct him for the next time how he should more convincingly avoid the truth in front of family members.

“Y/N, would you be so kind as to help me with dessert?”, Angeline asked, pointing to the kitchen. Y/N nodded without hesitation, after all, that was the least she could do for being served an impressive meal.

Leaving the men behind, the two women disappeared outside earshot.

Lucas waited until he had heard his wife close the door shut. “So, Y/N’s now your co-worker?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”, Lucas eyed his son, squinting at him. Jack realised – they had seriously similar facial expressions.

“Yes”, he repeated, “what are you getting at, pops?”

“I’m getting at nothin’, son”, the older Thompson said with a smile, “your mother does.”

He reached in his jacket’s pocket and fished out a small black box. Jack wasn’t an idiot, he knew what that was. It was her engagement ring, the one she had then taken off in favour for their actual wedding rings.

“She said I should give this to you. Just ‘in case’ it’s more than co-workers”, Lucas said with a lopsided grin and Jack could feel his cheeks heat up.

“Pops-“

“You know I’m not gonna talk back at your mother”, Lucas scoffed and placed the box in Jack’s hand. “Just keep them. Otherwise, I won’t hear the end of it.”

Jack heard his mother approach the door, so in a bout of panic, he just grabbed the box to make it disappear. He’d deal with the implications of it at a later point.

Y/N threw him a confused look when she helped carrying in the dessert, but he decided to just offer her a smile as a reply.

…..

“It was lovely catching up with you, darling, and keep an eye on my boy”, Angeline said when the two of them were about to leave, causing Jack to clear his throat.

“I’m right here, ma.”

“I know.”

Y/N gave the middle-aged lady a bright smile: “I’ll make sure he won’t get shot.”

The comment earned a side-glance from the blond and she raised an eyebrow.

Inside the car, Jack turned to her: “They don’t know I’ve been shot, you know.”

“Oh really?”, Y/N asked sarcastically, “Couldn’t tell that in the slightest.” She tilted her head: “Are you getting ready for a car chase or why are you gripping the steering wheel like your life depended on it?”

“Would you like me to let go of the wheel and let the Almighty decide our destination?”, he shot back, deciding that aggressive sarcasm would be the best way to avoid having to talk about the heartfelt, yet terrifying moment he had had with his father.

“I’m not interested to know just yet if we’d make it to heaven”, she replied dryly and laughed, decided not to pursue the topic further.

“Hopefully we’ll get your background story coherent the next time they ask anything”, he muttered to change the topic.

“That’s the key”, Y/N replied, “Stick with the truth as far and as long as you can. I didn’t lie, I just omitted some details – details I wouldn’t really want to share next time, either. Unlike you, I imagine. You now always need to remember that you failed to mention getting shot.”

“I doubt that’ll come up over Thanksgiving turkey, right?”, he asked back sarcastically.

“I don’t know, Jack, a wild turkey and you share the fate of being shot, so there’s that similarity.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t inform them yourself back then”, he commented, “though that would have been very awkward considering I failed to mention you resurfacing in my life.”

She rolled her eyes amusedly: “Yes. I do apologise for being just a tad busy actually killing whoever it was who had just taken aim at your sternum.”

“Seems like many things aim at my sternum. Bullets, interrogation tables”, he scoffed, “Not sure if I wanna know what’s next.”

For a while, they sat in the car in silence. Y/N thought about how his parents, though proud they were of their son’s achievement, could probably not even begin to fathom what his job looked like. He had just stormed a building, days before sitting at a dinner table with them eating beef.

“You hate the sound of machine guns”, she then stated quietly, “don’t you? Is that what you hear at night? Initially, I thought it was grenades.”

She didn’t look at his face. She wanted to give him the space to answer without feeling like she already analysed his thoughts before he got a chance to reply.

“Why are you asking?”

“Just because”, she tilted her head, “when we were in that building, it came to me.”

“You have strange priorities in a firefight”, he stated dryly, clenching his jaw.

“But yeah, I guess it is. That sound, you can’t get it out of your head”, he eventually added, pressing his lips into a fine line, “hearing that rattling for hours on end, hoping that we’d either get the shooter, or the damn thing would break, because you couldn’t move before the machine gun was dealt with – you feel like lambs to slaughter.”

Y/N nodded quietly and sighed: “I hardly experienced life at the front. Towards the end of the war, I witnessed some of the aerial bombing raids, though luckily, neither Hamburg nor Dresden were among them. When you asked me how I slept, was this what you meant? How I could block it out? Because truthfully, I can’t. But what I see, it’s not terrifying. It doesn’t make me scream. It just wants me to go numb. We called in those raids. Through our intel, the British and American pilots knew which cities specifically to bomb. I didn’t have to pull the trigger on civilians day in and day out, Harris’ men did that. But when I saw the carnage, I saw the dead children, I knew that they were dead because of our intel.”

Y/N still looked out the front window, but she could see in her periphery vision that Jack looked at her before looking back onto the street.

“They reaped what they sowed, Y/N. They bombed London, Coventry, Manchester, Amsterdam.”

“Yeah, of course”, she pulled a pained smile, “the Nazis did. But I doubt five-year old Hans did.”

Jack sighed, knowing that rationale didn’t really help to lessen the guilt. “Look, I’ve seen people accuse Truman of all sorts of things for dropping the nuclear bombs on Japan. Killed thousands within seconds. But whoever says that, never fought the Japanese. Of course they were defeated before the bombs fell, but that didn’t mean they’d surrender. They wanted to die an ‘honourable death’ or somethin’, and kill as many Americans as they could on the way. They sacrificed their own civilians on Okinawa for the sake of fighting us. More lives were lost in the battle for Okinawa than through the atomic bombs. Of course, innocent people died because of them. But the other option wouldn’t have meant that no innocent people would have died. Because that would have meant that we’d have to storm Japan. And from experience on Okinawa and Iwo Jima, I can assure you that would have been a bloodbath. So tell me, what was your alternative? Just because the tide of war had turned, would’ve the Nazi high command just settled for an unconditional surrender? Or would that have resulted in the war dragging on and just a different set of innocent people dying? It’s war, Y/N, total war. Innocent people always die, no matter how good you are.”

Now, if Y/N hadn’t had a very hard time crying, she would have. She felt like crying, but instead, she resorted to pressing her lips together and looking at the car ceiling.

“And you call me the speechwriter”, she said thinly, “I try to remember if Truman needs a new one to recommend you.”

“Believe it or not”, Jack replied dryly, “After our little skirmish with the Arena Club, I really don’t wanna get involved in domestic politics. I’ll settle for hunting communists.”

……

“You know what, Thompson, you can be damn glad you got out of L.A. when you did”, Sousa remarked through the phone, “turns out going after guys like Jones? Gets you all the media attention a secretive organisation doesn’t need.”

“C’mon, Danny-boy, I’m sure you love the press”, Jack replied, crossing his legs on his desk with a grin, “You already speak their language.”

“Very funny, Jack.”

“And besides, it’s only fair, right? After my team pulled your gal’s fat out of the fryer”, Thompson added, knowing that it would infuriate his colleague.

“Ha. Ha. I’m sorry for having had my leg blown off, medal boy.”

Thompson’s expression soured at the mention of his most hated medal, but he managed to brush it off. At least this one time.

“It’s alright, Sousa, nothing I wouldn’t do for you”, he instead replied cynically, “But I don’t see yet why you need my help for getting them inside a prison cell.”

“First, I need your signature on Peggy’s report”, Sousa said, audibly annoyed, “As she’s still your employee lent to me.”

“Right. When’s the wedding, Sousa, or is her holiday just going to expand indefinitely?”

“Can you just remain serious for one minute?”, Sousa retorted with a sigh before continuing: “We have physical evidence, but it’ll be a stronger case in front of a judge if we can supplement that with witness testimonies. You and L/N have been very involved in mopping up the Arena Club mess, so that could be very helpful.”

Jack drummed onto his desk with his finger before swinging down his legs: “A’right, lover boy, I’ll get you our written testimonies and Peggy’s signed report. Happy?”

“Very.”

“Aces.”

“And, Thompson?”

“Hm?”, Jack replied absentmindedly, writing down a quick note of what he had to get to Sousa.

“Should I do it?”

Thompson frowned confusedly: “What? Take down a group of maniacs? Yes, you should, why d’you ask?”

“No, you dumbass”, Sousa shot back, “Should I propose to Peggy.”

Thompson’s eyes widened and he almost dropped the phone in his hand: “Dani- you ask me for relationship advice??”

“Well, you’re in a relationship, right?”

“Well”, he cleared his throat, “maybe, but we’re not in the region of marriage yet.”

“Sure about that?”

“Goddammit Sousa”, Thompson rubbed the bridge of his nose, “yes, I’m sure. But whatever. You and Carter? I saw that coming the moment you stood up to her to Krzeminski. So yeah, you should.”

“I don’t know-“

“It’s just like a beach landing”, he interrupted only half-jokingly, “once you decide it’s go-time, you run, you don’t think.”

Sousa remained quiet at the end of the connection for a few seconds.

“Is that how you think about your life, Jack? In terms of war?”, he asked amused.

“No, but if I have to remind myself that doing something can’t compare to the fear of two amphibious landings, I do.”

“Two? I thought you only landed amphibiously on Iwo Jima.”

“Just because Okinawa wasn’t the first wave I was in, don’t mean it wasn’t an amphibious assault. But hey, you know the feeling, don’t you, Sousa? So I doubt getting out a ring compares the beaches of Normandy.”

“Your understanding of love is truly spectacular”, Daniel remarked, causing Jack to snort amusedly.

“You have no idea.” He looked outside his office, seeing an agent walk towards him. “Well, Danny-boy, duty calls. But don’t mess this up, you hear me?”

A/N: Am I writing for a small audience? Absolutely. Do I mind? Not at all. I remember searching for a well-thought out story with Thompson, so if I can provide that for just ONE person, I am completely happy. And as always, I am very grateful for every heart, reblog, comment - anything. May provide another chapter shortly. Working on chapter 13 right now, so my back catalogue is pretty decent at this moment!

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alokastrology1 · 1 year

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What is Abhijit Nakshatra?

In ancient times, there was a 28th Nakshatra which was named Abhijit. In modern times, there are only 27 Nakshatras. Abhijit is between 6°40′ and 10°53′ in Capricorn in the Sidereal Zodiac. This happens at the same time as the last part of the 21st Nakshatra, Uttarashada, and the beginning of the 22nd Nakshatra, Shravan. According to tradition, the 27 Nakshatras are the Moon’s wives. But Lord Krishna said in the Bhagavad Gita that Abhijit was his own Nakshatra(traits), which makes it the 28th. Brahma is the god who is in charge of Abhijit Nakshatra.

Get an online astrology consultation by the world-renowned Astrologer Mr. Alok Khandelwal.

Abhijit Nakshatra Astrology

Abhijit: Starts at 6:40 degrees and goes all the way up to 10:53° in the Capricorn sign. Beginning in the final pada of Uttarashada and concluding in the first 1/15th segment of Shravan, this Nakshatra spans both of those zodiacal constellations.

Read Also:- Can Astrology predict and cure disease?

Abhijit Nakshatra Male Traits

The man who is born under the Abhijit Nakshatra is kind, soft-spoken, and has kind phrases for everyone, not just those who are hurting. Everyone likes these natives because they are honest in their relationships and business dealings. Because they are so optimistic problems don’t bother them. Instead, they make them even more ascertained to get past them. These people are very smart, and after they have made a lot of money and enjoyed all their material comforts, they always turn to spirituality.

Abhijit Nakshatra Male: Occupation and Related Fields

The men born in the Abhijit Nakshatra are usually very smart and rise to the top of whatever field they choose. During their careers, they get a lot of name recognition and fame. They are also involved in more advanced learning and spend a great deal of time doing data analysis.

Abhijit Nakshatra Male: Getting Along with Others and Family Life

It has been seen that a man born in the Abhijit Nakshatra marries around the age of 23. In some cases, he could have more than one partner. They will also have a lot of children, but sadly, some of their children will die too soon. Usually, their oldest son is in charge of taking care of them when they are old.

Abhijit Nakshatra Male: Health and Happiness

Males born under the Abhijit Nakshatra may have health problems now and then, but most of them won’t be too bad, like piles or jaundice.

Abhijit Nakshatra women traits:

The woman who lives in the Abhijit Nakshatra is kind and caring. They will have many supporters and friends because they are good for everyone. Also, they are fair and don’t judge others based on their power, position, or wealth. But these natives might not be too serious when they are younger. Around the age of 18, something big happens that makes them very serious and grow up. They are bestowed with many abilities and can do many things.

Abhijit Nakshatra Female: Career and Related Areas

The women who live in the Abhijit Nakshatra have a lot of skills and are very smart, so they can do a lot of different kinds of work. They have a lot of choices and usually end up doing a great job and making a lot of money. They also climb the ranks to gain power, name recognition, and influence.

Abhijit Nakshatra for Women: Love and Family

It has been noticed that most women who live in the Abhijit Nakshatra don’t want to get married because of the bad experiences they had as kids. But those who do get able to marry do so in their late 20s and have a happy, easy life together.

Abhijit Nakshatra Female: Wellness and Well-Being

Up until the age of 18, a woman born in the Abhijit Nakshatra is likely to have very fragile health. From a health point of view, her 15th year could be the most important. She may have whooping cough, rheumatism, arthritis, or skin problems. But once she turns 18, she will have good health for the rest of her life.

Some Interesting Facts about the Abhijit Nakshatra

Meaning: Successful

King: Mercury

Zodiac: Capricorn sign

Deity: Brahma

Number: 28

Lucky alphabets: J and K

Lucky Color: yellowish brown

Lucky Numbers: 7 and 9

Marriage: a good sign

Abhijit Nakshatra traits: People who are lucky, beautiful, honest, spiritual, and highly regarded by society.

Read Also:- Can Spiritual counseling help me overcome depression?

#asttrolok #astrology #Abhijit Nakshatra traits #Abhijit Nakshatra #Abhijit #Nakshatra

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rotationalsymmetry · 2 years

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This election season I’m not waiting for the “a vote for a third party candidate is a vote for a Republican/if you don’t vote because you don’t like either major party candidate then you’re the problem and also clearly swimming in privilege (because there’s totally a correlation between being privileged and not voting)” thing to start up, I’m just going to preemptively unfollow anyone who posts anything GOTV-ish that rubs me even slightly the wrong way.

Ahem. Voting is a choice, and for the system to even halfway sort of kind of function it has to be. If Democrats cannot possibly lose votes on the left no matter what they do, but can lose votes in the center, they will inevitably drift right. The only way we can mitigate this is if there’s some penalty in the voting box if a Democrat is too fucking centrist for words. Moreover, there are tons of people who intend to vote Democrat but might not if not given a little bit of a push/reminder to register/ride to the polls/etc, so please focus on those. Like the people who are actually paid to get out the vote (or who even just volunteer a few hours of their time with the Democratic Party, rather than independently posting whatever makes them feel superior on social media) do, you know? I understand text banking is a big thing these days, and for people who like a bit of creativity there’s postcards.

There is, also, especially for national elections, a sense in which voting is…how do I phrase this? You know when you give a young child a choice of doing their math homework with the pencil with unicorns on it or the pencil with the spaceships on it in hopes that they won’t notice you’re not giving them a choice about the homework itself? Voting can be like that, a way to get people to feel like the state represents them, and if there’s an asshat in power it’s other people’s fault, so that they will follow the rules and not, idk, unscrew the middle bar on park benches with an Allen key so that homeless people can sleep there or whatever. Or lie on their resume. Or refuse to rely on the cops when something goes wrong. Or hire people for odd jobs without asking for their social security number and paying them under the table so they don’t have to pay taxes/report their earnings and possible lose their disability money/whatever. Or look the other way when they see someone shoplifting baby formula. Or pirate movies, whatever.

The state functions largely by getting people to believe that it is good and that following the rules is good, and elections (where we all get to pretend that a politician’s constituents are the people who voted for them, and not the institutions that funded the campaign) are part of that smokescreen.

You will notice the unicorn pencil/smokescreen interpretation is not actually incompatible with the results of the election having a great deal of importance on people’s lives. Indeed, it would be quite difficult to get people to buy into the concept if the election results didn’t matter.

There is power in deciding the system is not just and you are not morally obligated to play by its rules. There is power in saying “the decisions made by my government are not made with my consent and are enforced against my will.” There is power in saying “not my president” about every president.

#us elections

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evco-productions · 2 years

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What Most Biopics Do WRONG

Fun fact: at one point there was apparently plans to have Rami Malek cameo as Freddie Mercury in Rocketman, thus creating a rock-musician-biopic cinematic universe (the RMBCU, if you will). With all the biopics getting announced and released in the last several years, I just think that would have been cool.

But we’re not here to talk about cinematic universes that could have been, we’re here to talk about biopics in general. Specifically, biopics focusing on musicians, since I feel like those are the most prevalent—whenever a biopic about a musician gets made, audiences tend to go see it. I imagine they think to themselves, “If nothing else, I know who the artist being portrayed is, and they know they’re gonna hear some good music.”

Am I counted among those people? Yeah, I guess so. I saw Bohemian Rhapsody and Elvis in theaters, and (if I remember correctly) rented Rocketman.

I paid money to see all these movies because I’m a cinephile and I try to see most movies that I feel are going to be big topics of conversation within the film community, at least for the few months that they’re in theaters.

But, I don’t really like biopics by and large. And while I wanted Elvis to be a better movie than it was, at the same time I’m glad it has the flaws it does, because I think it contains sort of the best and worst traits of your typical biopic (and thus makes for a perfect focus for this entry).

First things first… Austin Butler is fantastic as Elvis Presley. This isn’t a unique thing to say; of course the people casting a biopic are going to make sure the lead actor is a great fit, otherwise the movie won’t work at all and it won’t be considered during awards season (which, let’s be honest, is half the reason most of these biopics get made). But Austin Butler is a particularly fun choice for me because I still think of him as Jake from Aliens in the Attic, which is a movie I loved as a kid (okay, I still love it) and maybe one other person reading this remembers.

I also liked Tom Hanks in Elvis more than I expected to. Excessive voiceover narration often irks me, but in this case, I liked that the movie had the guts to give us an unreliable narrator. Col. Tom Parker is mostly if not entirely to blame for a lot of what went wrong in Elvis’s life and career, but throughout the movie he is constantly trying to convince himself and us that he’s innocent.

The point is, your typical biopic kind of always comes down to the star of the show, doesn’t it? Obviously, you know deep down that Austin Butler isn’t Elvis Presley (they look kinda similar, but only kinda), but it’s the actor’s job to be so good in the movie, to deliver his lines with sincerity, to hit all the right beats of comedy and drama, that you’re willing to let the physical differences slide and just enjoy the show.

If there’s anything else that measures up to the importance of a good leading man when it comes to biopics, I would say that it's probably set design. Biopics are, by nature, period pieces, so obviously if you don’t buy that the movie is taking place in the Fifties, Sixties, Seventies, or whenever, then it won’t work. Elvis also hits the mark here.

But we need to move beyond this surface-level talk of biopics, because my problem with most of them is that I just don’t think they do a good job of convincing me they deserve to exist. Let’s be honest, whatever you think you might learn about Elvis Presley by watching the movie Elvis could be learned a lot faster by googling him.

Besides, the movie is going to have historical inaccuracies anyway—that’s not a complaint, mind you, I accept and sometimes even welcome historical inaccuracies—but like it or not, that’s a feature of any biopic. The key word in the phrase “based on a true story” is “based.” This is a dramatization of real life and creative liberties have been taken. You’re not here to get the exact truth.

But it’s not really about getting accurate information so much as it’s about how long it takes to get said information. If I wanted to learn about Elvis Presley, it takes seconds to google him and find tons of reliable firsthand and secondhand accounts of who he was and what he was like. Meanwhile, this movie is two hours and thirty-nine minutes long, and any movie that passes the two-hour mark needs to do a better job than Elvis does to convince me it’s worth investing that much time.

The first thirty minutes of Elvis are atrocious. There is not a single scene that lasts more than five minutes. The editing is way too busy—and while that might be Baz Luhrmann’s “style” or whatever, that doesn’t make it invincible to critique. The movie jumps all over the place trying to rush through Elvis’s childhood and early years.

During this first half-hour, the movie also commits what a major sin for a period piece in that it uses contemporary music in a few scenes. As far as I’m concerned, this betrays that the filmmakers were worried young audiences wouldn’t be interested in this movie if they didn’t hear a rap song. This movie is about Elvis-fucking-Presley! If you can’t be confident in the music of Elvis Presley, who’s music can you be confident in?

Now, once the movie actually slows down, takes a minute to breathe, starts exploring Elvis’s life at a more personal level, and lets Austin Butler do what he needs to do, it’s pretty good. But to me that reveals the movie they really wanted to make was about the second half of Elvis’s life. So…why didn’t they just make that movie? Biopics seem desperate to cram as much of their lead character’s lives into two and a half hours as possible, especially when it’s a musician-focused biopic, because it’s just so necessary that we see the first time the young boy heard an inspiring song and equally necessary to see the last time the old man performs on stage for his legion of fans.

It is impossible to tell someone’s life story in two and a half hours. Why are we still trying? Filmmakers who find themselves in the unique position of getting to construct a biopic should pick out what they find interesting about the person in question, and focus only on that. I think this would do wonders for making biopics seem less cookie cutter in the way that Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story was so right to make fun of.

In the end, I did give Elvis a ‘W,’ because like I said, the second half of the movie is really good—in fact, I think it’s better than both the aforementioned Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocketman. I just wish the average biopic felt like there was more care put into it and had a goal beyond selling old music inside a new album and getting people talking about who’s gonna be nominated for Best Actor next awards season.

So, if you haven’t yet seen Elvis, and you’d like my honest opinion…watch it, but consider trying to watch it at an early bird ticket price, or maybe even waiting for it to come on streaming. I predict there are more exciting, must-see titles awaiting us as the summer rolls on.

#evco #evco productions #just admit it #elvis biopic #elvis presley #bohemian rhapsody #rocketman #film discussion

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