#and absolutely ASTOUNDED my computer can handle it
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a few pics of ‘the palace’ created by @thedevilliers & @thebrixtons
used in this post.
#im in love with this build!#and absolutely ASTOUNDED my computer can handle it#it has any and everything i could want or need#one day i WILL work on my building AND decorating skills#ts4#the sims 4#the sims#ts4 build#ts4 palace#ts4 decor#ts4 royalty#ts4 royal simblr#simblr#ts4 simblr#ts4 royal
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Please tell us how to get into IT without a degree! I have an interview for a small tech company this week and I’m going in as admin but as things expand I can bootstrap into a better role and I’d really appreciate knowing what skills are likely to be crucial for making that pivot.
Absolutely!! You'd be in a great position to switch to IT, since as an admin, you'd already have some familiarity with the systems and with the workplace in general. Moving between roles is easier in a smaller workplace, too.
So, this is a semi-brief guide to getting an entry-level position, for someone with zero IT experience. That position is almost always going to be help desk. You've probably heard a lot of shit about help desk, but I've always enjoyed it.
So, here we go! How to get into IT for beginners!
The most important thing on your resume will be
✨~🌟Certifications!!🌟~✨
Studying for certs can teach you a lot, especially if you're entirely new to the field. But they're also really important for getting interviews. Lots of jobs will require a cert or degree, and even if you have 5 years of experience doing exactly what the job description is, without one of those the ATS will shunt your resume into a black hole and neither HR or the IT manager will see it.
First, I recommend getting the CompTIA A+. This will teach you the basics of how the parts of a computer work together - hardware, software, how networking works, how operating systems work, troubleshooting skills, etc. If you don't have a specific area of IT you're interested in, this is REQUIRED. Even if you do, I suggest you get this cert just to get your foot in the door.
I recommend the CompTIA certs in general. They'll give you a good baseline and look good on your resume. I only got the A+ and the Network+, so can't speak for the other exams, but they weren't too tough.
If you're more into development or cybersecurity, check out these roadmaps. You'll still benefit from working help desk while pursuing one of those career paths.
The next most important thing is
🔥🔥Customer service & soft skills🔥🔥
Sorry about that.
I was hired for my first ever IT role on the strength of my interview. I definitely wasn't the only candidate with an A+, but I was the only one who knew how to handle customers (aka end-users). Which is, basically, be polite, make the end-user feel listened to, and don't make them feel stupid. It is ASTOUNDING how many IT people can't do that. I've worked with so many IT people who couldn't hide their scorn or impatience when dealing with non-tech-savvy coworkers.
Please note that you don't need to be a social butterfly or even that socially adept. I'm autistic and learned all my social skills by rote (I literally have flowcharts for social interactions), and I was still exceptional by IT standards.
Third thing, which is more for you than for your resume (although it helps):
🎇Do your own projects🎇
This is both the most and least important thing you can do for your IT career. Least important because this will have the smallest impact on your resume. Most important because this will help you learn (and figure out if IT is actually what you want to do).
The certs and interview might get you a job, but when it comes to doing your job well, hands-on experience is absolutely essential. Here are a few ideas for the complete beginner. Resources linked at the bottom.
Start using the command line. This is called Terminal on Mac and Linux. Use it for things as simple as navigating through file directories, opening apps, testing your connection, that kind of thing. The goal is to get used to using the command line, because you will use it professionally.
Build your own PC. This may sound really intimidating, but I swear it's easy! This is going to be cheaper than buying a prebuilt tower or gaming PC, and you'll learn a ton in the bargain.
Repair old PCs. If you don't want to or can't afford to build your own PC, look for cheap computers on Craiglist, secondhand stores, or elsewhere. I know a lot of universities will sell old technology for cheap. Try to buy a few and make a functioning computer out of parts, or just get one so you can feel comfortable working in the guts of a PC.
Learn Powershell or shell scripting. If you're comfortable with the command line already or just want to jump in the deep end, use scripts to automate tasks on your PC. I found this harder to do for myself than for work, because I mostly use my computer for web browsing. However, there are tons of projects out there for you to try!
Play around with a Raspberry Pi. These are mini-computers ranging from $15-$150+ and are great to experiment with. I've made a media server and a Pi hole (network-wide ad blocking) which were both fun and not too tough. If you're into torrenting, try making a seedbox!
Install Linux on your primary computer. I know, I know - I'm one of those people. But seriously, nothing will teach you more quickly than having to compile drivers through the command line so your Bluetooth headphones will work. Warning: this gets really annoying if you just want your computer to work. Dual-booting is advised.
If this sounds intimidating, that's totally normal. It is intimidating! You're going to have to do a ton of troubleshooting and things will almost never work properly on your first few projects. That is part of the fun!
Resources
Resources I've tried and liked are marked with an asterisk*
Professor Messor's Free A+ Training Course*
PC Building Simulator 2 (video game)
How to build a PC (video)
PC Part Picker (website)*
CompTIA A+ courses on Udemy
50 Basic Windows Commands with Examples*
Mac Terminal Commands Cheat Sheet
Powershell in a Month of Lunches (video series)
Getting Started with Linux (tutorial)* Note: this site is my favorite Linux resource, I highly recommend it.
Getting Started with Raspberry Pi
Raspberry Pi Projects for Beginners
/r/ITCareerQuestions*
Ask A Manager (advice blog on workplace etiquette and more)*
Reddit is helpful for tech questions in general. I have some other resources that involve sailing the seas; feel free to DM me or send an ask I can answer privately.
Tips
DO NOT work at an MSP. That stands for Managed Service Provider, and it's basically an IT department which companies contract to provide tech services. I recommend staying away from them. It's way better to work in an IT department where the end users are your coworkers, not your customers.
DO NOT trust remote entry-level IT jobs. At entry level, part of your job is schlepping around hardware and fixing PCs. A fully-remote position will almost definitely be a call center.
DO write a cover letter. YMMV on this, but every employer I've had has mentioned my cover letter as a reason to hire me.
DO ask your employer to pay for your certs. This applies only to people who either plan to move into IT in the same company, or are already in IT but want more certs.
DO NOT work anywhere without at least one woman in the department. My litmus test is two women, actually, but YMMV. If there is no woman in the department in 2024, and the department is more than 5 people, there is a reason why no women work there.
DO have patience with yourself and keep an open mind! Maybe this is just me, but if I can't do something right the first time, or if I don't love it right away, I get very discouraged. Remember that making mistakes is part of the process, and that IT is a huge field which ranges from UX design to hardware repair. There are tons of directions to go once you've got a little experience!
Disclaimer: this is based on my experience in my area of the US. Things may be different elsewhere, esp. outside of the US.
I hope this is helpful! Let me know if you have more questions!
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Chapter 6 of Just A Small Glitch In His Code is up!!! Chapter 1 is here and chapter 6 is also readable below
“I don’t even know how to respond. Am I allowed to say a swear word? I think it deserves a ‘fucking hell’, or at least a ‘haha what the fuck’” Lloyd said, with a shaky laugh.
“I’d permit it, but I don’t think Master Wu would be happy.” Pixal replied, matching the slightly mortified smile on his face that didn’t particularly match the conversation or situation. It was a lie though, Master Wu didn’t seem to care whether any of them swore anymore, Nya cursed so often that Jay jokingly once said that they all needed to say more to make up for it now she was gone. Wu seemed to agree, or maybe he just didn’t care.
The two sat in silence for a moment, not really sure what to do from this point on, perhaps delaying the moment they had to go back down to the base, until Lloyd spoke up.
“I uh, well, we probably ought to go bring Zane back online. He needs to know about Overlord, yknow?”
“Yeah, we really should”.
They walked wordlessly over to the elevator and stepped in, both looking incredibly tense, thinking of a million things.
“Hey uh, Pix? What’s it like, having, yknow, the virus in your head?”
She paused for a moment. “Well, that's the scariest thing. I can't sense it at all, my systems aren’t detecting anything, no anomalies, nothing. I only know it's there because well, it talked to me. From Zane. It told me it’d leave Zane if I let it inside my own mind. And of course, I accepted.”
“You sacrificed yourself?” Lloyd stared at her, absolutely astounded and appalled.
“Perhaps so, unless we figure out how to remove the virus ourselves.” Her face looked grave, but still determined. She felt she had time, even if it meant going through her code line-by-line.
“That's not something most people would be so okay about, Pix. Are you okay?”
“Zane’s mind was easily corrupted by the virus because he became consumed by his sadness, I do not intend to go the same way.” she replied, unsure of how else to answer.
She felt bad enough about dragging Lloyd into this at all, and that he didn’t need to be burdened with knowing how she felt as well, regardless of the truth on that matter. Lloyd, still looking incredibly concerned, and a bit annoyed at how she dodged his question, decided not to pry further.
And after what felt like an eternity, the elevator doors opened.
“You should probably be next to Zane, I could try to handle the computer side of waking him up?” Lloyd said, and to be fair, Lloyd had spent a lot of his time trying to figure out how just about everything in the ninja base’s systems worked, he knew exactly what to do technology-wise as well as she did, though he isn’t given as much credit for it. More than once Pix had come down here to find Lloyd had been looking at the surveillance systems in ninjago all night. Allbiet it’s been a while since it last happened, given he’s not the green ninja anymore, but he definitely still knows what he’s doing with these computers. She believed that Lord Garmadon’s disappearance with the golden weapons had been getting to him, and that he was looking for any sign of him.
She stood next to Zane where she’d laid him not even an hour earlier and clutched his hand.
It was all of a sudden, a voice, echoing, but still with that same annoyingly over-polite tone, now so loud within her head.
“I’ve looked throughout your mind Pixal, and I must say, very interesting, we’ve much to discuss. All good things, I swear it.”
She staggered back a few steps, a look of absolute shock on her face.
“You alright Pix?” Lloyd said, turning around from the computer.
“I, uh, yes. I am fine, it's just, I can now clarify that Overlord is indeed, most definitely, in my head.”
“You thought otherwise?” Overlord questioned. She was unsure if the virus was joking or not.
“Yikes. We’re gonna have to deal with that later, Zane should be back online in about 5 seconds” Lloyd said, turning back to the computer and doing one final keypress.
The LED lights in Zane’s eyes flickered on and he sat up, almost instantaneously.
“Pixal! Lloyd! Oh by the first spinjitzu master, this is bad. Why are we in the base? Actually, that doesn’t matter, there are far more imperative issues going on right now!” He hardly paused for breath. “I have had another prophetic vision. Where is Nya? It is incredibly urgent, she is in danger.”
Pixal and Lloyd looked at eachother, confused and a little worried. Zane should know where Nya is. And then it clicked. Did he truly believe everything Nya’s sacrifice and everything after it, perhaps even his whole time while being corrupted by the staff of forbidden spinjitzu and Overlord, had been a vision?
“Why are the two of you looking at eachother like that? Please, Pixal, Lloyd, you two know what happened last time when nobody believed my visions. We can’t do that again. Where is Nya?”
#we’ve hit a total of 5k words now btw lets go gamers#lego#ninjago#lego ninjago#pixal borg#pixal ninjago#zane julien#zane ninjago#lloyd garmadon#lloyd ninjago#overlord ninjago#nya smith#nya ninjago#fic#writing#just a small glitch in his code
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The Dream Chronicles
Chapter Six on A03
or right here :)
"Come on, coppertop. Flying in the Matrix doesn't mean shit if you can't support your own weight in the real world. Five more."
Neo dipped down again, feeling his arms quake as he grew closer to the floor before he forced himself back up. And again. And again. The sweat beaded on his brow dripped to the steel floor. His arms and abdomen and legs were aching for five minutes of just sitting down. He'd be happy to collapse. But Apoc must have been a drill sergeant in another life because the man knew exactly which buttons to push.
You think Trin deserves a weak, scrawny kid who can barely muster his way through a pull-up? You think she's going to want someone who can only embrace her with the floppy-noodle arms of an infant?
Fuck that.
Neo let his arms take his weight and ignored the quiver of his abdomen while he closed his eyes and pictured hers. There was no waking up from this, he had accepted. This was real. The dreams he had lived for had become his reality and he would be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to keep it.
Neo inhaled has he dipped down a final time before forcing himself back up. He let out a small gasp as he allowed his knee to make contact with the floor.
"Well done," Apoc said, tossing a towel at him.
Neo brushed away the sweat before trading it for a water bottle. "Please tell me we're done for the day?"
"Why?" Apoc quirked a brow. "Think you got enough in you for another round?"
Neo decided silence was the best course of action.
Apoc shot him a grin. "Don't worry. My goal is to push your limits. Not break them. Because you'll be doing this tomorrow, too."
"Great." He took a long gulp. "Love this. Super fun."
"I take it you have no memories of this?"
"What? Basic training? Calisthenics? Can't say I do."
"It won't be forever. Just until you're at a healthy mass. Think you could eat lunch?"
"Eating it won't be the problem. I'm worried about holding it down."
"We can forgo lunch for now. Want to take a nap before you get your Matrix crash courses?"
Desperately, but he shook his head in denial anyway. He'd slept long enough. "No. I'm good to start. I want to catch back up to where I was. Or, where I should be, I guess."
That was going to take a while, he knew. While his dreams had given him enormous insights into the world around him, every member of the crew looked at him like a stranger. Even Trinity did not know him the way that he knew her.
Yes, she was welcoming. The undeniable chemistry between them was alive and real. And the crew were largely trying to not make him feel like an outsider, but the fact remained they didn't know him.
He could recite one of Dozer's kids' favorite story books cover to cover. He knew Tank's anniversary and that Apoc collected old-world trinkets. He knew that Switch would slouch when they had a winning hand at poker and Morpheus was a worse liar than Neo was. But they did not know him.
And they wouldn't. Not until he had reintroduced himself. Not until he listened to them all, relearning what he knew. He would be a stranger until he relearned himself.
"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to take a short break?"
"Positive," said Neo, rising to his feet. "Besides, I'll just be in the chair anyway. I'll relax my muscles and work my brain."
Apoc led the way out of the makeshift gym in the engine room and back to the main level. Trinity was sitting on a stool near the operating station examining the screens intensely.
She turned at the sound of steps and offered a smile when she saw them. "How did it go?" she asked Apoc.
"Amazingly. Honestly, I've never had a coppertop do so well in the first week, let alone the first day."
Neo looked at him incredulously. "Seriously? You gave me so much shit about how I was doing!"
Apoc smirked. "Well, a pat on the back wasn't going to help you do better, Messiah."
"You'll sleep like a baby tonight," said Tank. "You want to take a break before you start this?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm ready to start."
"All right. Trin, can you get him set up?" Tank spun around back to the computer and opened a case with a bunch of small drives. "I know you already remember a lot but your girl wants us to cover your bases." He held up one that had Jiu-Jitsu crammed across it in red ink and ensured that Neo was indeed plugged in and ready to go. "Hold on."
A sharp pulse went through his body, tensing him up. He felt impossibly stiff as a rush of information entered his system and then it was gone, leaving him thrown back and limp. And breathed in and shuddered. "Oh shit."
"Hey Mikey, I think he likes it." Tank gave him a grin, but his eyes flashed to Trinity. She smirked and swept his brow.
"How do you feel?"
"Shit, that's a rush."
"Feel up for another?"
"Hell yes." He leaned back. "Hell yes."
Kung Fu.
Karate.
Aikido.
Taekwondo.
Krav Maga.
Fencing.
Arnis.
Boxing.
Kickboxing.
Drunken boxing.
Quarterstaff.
Judo.
It went on and on, hour by hour. Every offer of a break from Tank was denied. He kept going, desperate to regain the parts of his memories that were lost.
Morpheus came by when dinner had passed without a sign of Tank, Trinity, or Neo.
"How's he doing?" Morpheus asked.
"He's a freaking machine," Tank said, rubbing at his own eyes. "Not even tired from this. The only reason we're stopping in the next half hour is because Mamacita over here is insisting."
Trin whacked him upside the head and Tank winced even as he grinned.
Morpheus looked at Trinity. "Can I ask what your plan is?"
"Day divided into real world and construct for the next few days. He's physically training with Apoc, who insists he's doing well. I think with the speed at which he can handle the trainings, he should be done in two days with operations, combat, and first aid. From there, we can divide time in the construct between vehicular and stealth trainings and practice within the construct. Open world—drop him in and see what he can do and go from there."
It was a thorough plan though Morpheus quirked a brow. "Hmm."
"You disagree?" she asked, not unkindly.
"No. It makes sense. I'm just surprised you're choosing to have him spend so much time in training."
"Like I said, Morpheus, it's not the training itself that I disagree with. He needs just as much as any newbie. But Neo has an advantage in speed and that will be utilized."
Neo, whose eyes had been fluttering as he learned to stitch, cauterize, and otherwise close a wound, blinked back into reality. He exhaled sharply. His eyes opened and he caught Morpheus' gaze.
"Neo," the captain addressed, "how are you holding up?"
"I know what moves were missing in my mind," he replied, his lips twitching into a smile. "I know Kung Fu."
"Just a few more programs and first aid will be done," Trinity told him as Tank switched the drives. "We'll stop there for the day."
Neo nodded and smiled at her before Tank inserted the next lesson and, once again, Neo's eyes fluttered through a new program.
"Truly astounding," Morpheus murmured, watching the screen that monitored Neo's brain as the new information was uploaded.
"I've never seen a poddie adjust like this," Tank said with a disbelieving shake of the head. "This point, we're usually still getting the kid to trust us enough to upload something and if we're lucky enough to get them in the chair, they can barely handle an hour at this."
"He's doing well." Trinity handed Tank the next disk in the program sequence, allowing Neo to remain completely wired in while his brain recalibrated itself with the new information.
"Doing well?" Tank said. "Trin, your boyfriend is freaking out of control."
"Still human," she repeated the small phrase that had somehow become her mantra over the past days. Yes, Neo knew more than any poddie had ever known. Yes, his skills were already unparalleled. But she'd be damned if that was all he was reduced to.
"Ain't denying it," said Tank, "which is kind of what makes this all so incredible."
Trin gave a slight nod. "Just make sure it stays remembered when we get to Zion. I don't know what's going to be worse—the Council or the military."
"None of it will be pretty. You'll have your work cut out for you."
"That's why I want him in shape as soon as possible. Aside from the obvious reasons. Neo is going to need to be able to take care of himself so that we can deal with the backlash of finding the One."
"It might not be so bad. Most people will be happy."
"Happy or angry don't help me. Happy will be excited, intrusive. He's as anti-social as they come. He won't like being the center of attention. And angry? He'll be dealing with the backlash of the disbelievers of the world, pushing him down without knowing a goddamn thing about him. The only people who will actually help us are going to be the apathetic ones."
"Keep some faith, sister." Tank placed his hand on her arm. "We found the One. That's pretty damn amazing."
She shot him a smile before turning her attention back to Neo's brain scans.
Morpheus shook his head. "We really did it. Decades of searching and he's only feet away from us."
Trin ran her hand through her hair.
Morpheus, Tank... honestly everyone was so damned excited that they had found him.
And it wasn't that she wasn't.
Trinity could not deny the way her heart pounded just being feet away from him, nor the way her skin practically ached to be in contact with his, always. When he had been training with Apoc, she had to force herself to focus on the routine maintenance she had been working because all she wanted to do was go to him.
Even though she knew where he was, she had wanted to track him down and not let him walk from her sight.
What made it worse was that the feeling was mutual.
He didn't just cling to her because she was familiar. In a way, they all were to Neo.
It was so much deeper than that.
Neo had woken up without her just a day ago and had wrecked half of the medbay because she hadn't been there.
Through and through. Balls to bone.
Isn't that what the Oracle had said all those years ago?
She fought the urge to laugh. The Oracle certainly never mentioned anything like this.
"You okay, Trin?"
Tank and Morpheus both eyed her with the same look of concern. She offered a smile.
"Just thinking." Without any real explanation, Trin turned her attention back to the screen. "How much more does he have to go in this stack?"
"Maybe thirty minutes."
Trinity nodded. "All right. Once this stack is finished, he's taking a break. I don't care if he can handle more."
"You got it."
"I'll be back." And it took her more effort than she'd like to admit to not flat out run from the room and to her room. Their room.
She leaned against the door, letting out a long breath.
Overwhelmed, both by the fact that they had actually found him and by everything that Neo seemed to know, she crossed to the small sink. Turning the faucet, she splashed cold water onto her face.
Even leaving the Core to take five goddamn minutes to reassess had her on edge. It felt wrong.
She had lived without him for years and now leaving him under Tank's perfectly capable care had her ready to punch the glass in front of her.
Trinity turned the faucet off, leaning forward against the sink.
Did her heart always beat so heavily?
Her body quaked.
Neo knew her intimately. The books next to her bed. The ink on her body. Every single place where the smallest touch would have her gasping against him. It shouldn't be possible but there was no denying it.
Her chest felt tight, her head was pounding.
Ans his memories… What did he know? What had he seen?
Some of them were conflicting, it seemed, but they all focused on her.
The Oracle had said nothing about that.
Her breaths began to come faster and faster.
He loved her; he had said in his moments of clarity after arriving on the ship.
Did he? Or did he love a memory of her?
There was a loud creak and she wanted to push up and look behind her, but her muscles were frozen.
She inhaled through her nose, but each breath was still short.
There was a thud of the door closing and two arms wrapped around her from behind.
"It's all right," Neo whispered gently, pulling her back into his chest.
The world seemed to be slipping from her fingers but he was firm in his grip, holding her upright. He stepped back, nearly dragging her with him as he guided her back to the bed softly. "It's okay, Trin."
He sat down, pulling her to his lap. It took little effort. She fell back into him with ease even as her breathing continued to come in heavy pants.
With one hand, he held her steadily to him. With the other, he gently caressed her as he kept whispering sweet assurances. "You're safe. I'm here. I've got you."
His words and ministrations didn't stop. She tucked her head into the crevice of his neck and breathed in his scent. There was still the tinge of antiseptic but there was something rich and earthy underneath it. Warm and gentle and so utterly Neo.
She felt a kiss atop her head.
"I'm never letting go," he whispered and the doubt started to slip away at last.
Her breathing slowly came back down and she let out a long breath.
"What happened?" he asked softly.
She swallowed. Wasn't she supposed to be the one comforting him?
"I don't know." And Christ, had she ever sounded so weak and unsure? She was one breath away from a whimper. "It's so much."
His grip tightened and he held her closer. "I know, love. I'm so sorry."
"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now."
"You feel what you feel, Trin. You don't need to feel anything."
"Not feeling isn't the problem," she said with a shake of her head. "I feel… so much right now. More than I ever have in my life and I don't know how to make sense of it." She sighed softly, leaning back to get a better view of the man who was undoubtedly the One. "Aren't you supposed to be finishing up the programs?"
Neo offered a small smile. "Asked Tank to take me out. Something felt off."
He wasn't talking about the program.
Trinity swallowed. "Hooked up to the Construct, you felt me having a panic attack?"
"I knew something was wrong," he said, his eyes staring at her with such concern and such adoration that it was hard to take in. "I didn't know what. Told Tank I wasn't feeling well"— thank god for small favors, she thought—"and came to find you."
Her lower lip quivered. Oh.
"I know…" Neo looked torn. "I know that this isn't easy for you. I… can't imagine what you are going through right now. And I'm not making it easy. Even now"—he sighed and shook his head ever so softly—"I'm not making this easy. If you want me to go, if you need space from me—"
"I don't." It came so quickly it surprised Trinity but it was true. "I don't want you to go. I don't want to be away from you. I don't want a moment to go by where I'm not touching you but"—she raked her hand through her hair harshly before continuing—"Jesus, I… I don't know you, Neo. But I do. And I need you and I don't know how that's possible." She looked into his eyes, the words spilling from her faster without leaving a moment to breathe. "I can't make sense of this. I don't know you, but you are so familiar to me. Every step away from you, even to let you train, makes my skin crawl but that shouldn't—"
Neo cupped the back of her head and brought his face to meet hers.
She kissed him back, lips slowing to allow for a hundred gentle but desperate kisses to pass. She angled her head, twisting in his arms to straddle his lap. Her hands traced up his torso, stopping only to cup his face.
Neo was hers.
"Why?" she asked, pulling back before placing another kiss on his lips, "Why does it feel like I'll die"—she pressed her forehead to his—"if you're taken from me?"
Neo shook his head softly enough so that she was undisturbed in their current position together. "I don't know. I wish I could give you the answers."
"You are mine," she breathed, the declaration like a prayer.
"I am." He tucked her hair back. "And you are mine."
"We don't even know each other," she whispered, "dreams and shadows aside."
"We'll learn," Neo promised, "but you cannot deny that this is more than just dreams and shadows." He pulled back and kissed her forehead. "It doesn't all need to make sense, Trin."
She offered a small smile. "Everyone is so excited about finding the One and all I want to do is lock you away so no one can touch you."
"Except you."
"Except me," she agreed, lightly stroking his face.
He kissed her nose and her lips once more. "I'm just saying, if you want to tie me to the bed and never let me up, I wouldn't be opposed."
She cracked a smile. "I'm sure you wouldn't."
With a gentle shove to the shoulders, she sent him down onto the bed. Neo grinned as his head hit the pillow.
"Finally going to have your wicked way with me?"
Trinity laughed, leaning down with him. "Shut up."
"Make me."
And she did. With a smile, leaning down to capture his lips. Soft and slow. There was no need to rush.
They had time.
The world could keep moving at the speed of light, but they didn't have to. Not when there were moments like this.
"Are we happy?" she asked, leaning against his chest.
Neo wrapped his arms around her and rolled her to her back, kissing her as he did.
"Deliriously."
She smiled and traced his brow with her finger, "Good."
Trinity pushed her hand around his head and wrapped her it around his neck, gently pulling him down to meet her in another kiss.
A sigh escaped her as their lips touched. Familiar and beautiful, he kissed her with a desperation that rocked Trinity to her core.
Years of waiting on her part and dreams on his, finally culminating in reality. How had she lived so long without this, without him? It was unfathomable.
Neo broke the kiss, only to hug her tighter.
"I'm sorry things are so confusing."
"It's not your fault."
"I know." He caressed her face. "I'm still sorry."
"We'll figure things out," she told him with a sense of renewed optimism.
Neo narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful. For a minute, he stared at her. Then, he pushed up to a sitting position, taking Trinity with him.
"I want to do this right," Neo said. "I don't—I don't want things with us to be based on a dream-world."
"Okay." She wasn't entirely certain what that meant.
"I'd like to take you out on a date."
Trinity blinked. "We're on a hovercraft, Neo."
"A modified date then."
She wondered if her cheeks were flushed again. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I go hit the showers—" She laughed at his candor, but Neo continued, "Then, we get takeout from the mess hall, and we just stay in tonight. And talk, just the two of us."
And it just wasn't fair, Trinity thought, how fucking perfect he was. He'd been taken from the Matrix, told his entire life was a lie, and his concern still lay with her. On making her feel good and safe.
Swallowing, Trinity nodded. "I think that sounds perfect."
"Okay," he agreed, leaning forward to kiss her. "I'll be back in twenty."
"I'll be here," she promised, and Neo rewarded her with a heart-stopping grin. Oh.
He recalled, without a problem, where the towels were kept and grabbed one. He walked over to the drawer which contained her yarn and trinkets and stopped himself before he opened it. He glanced back to her. "Where would I find fresh clothes?"
"Morpheus had planned on putting you in the room next to his. There should be spare clothes in there."
"Thanks, love." Neo bent down and kissed her head before he left to head to the washroom.
She wondered, when the door had closed behind him, if he noticed the endearment.
Trinity rose to her feet. While Neo showered, she'd get their dinner ready so neither of them had to go back out. Keep things simple that way. Luckily, she thought, nearly everyone else would have already eaten so the mess wouldn't be too crowded.
She slipped down the hall. Sure enough, only Tank was present when she walked in.
"Coming to join me?" he asked.
"Just grabbing dinner for me and Neo. We're going to eat in our room."
Our room. It slipped out before she had even stopped to think about it.
For the thirteen years she had been on the Neb, it had been her room. Her private space, where she could and did go to get away from everyone else when the world seemed to be too much to manage. She spent more time in that room than in her apartment in Zion, which Trinity supposed was also their apartment.
Why was it so easy to make that transition from me to us?
Tank grinned at her. "Oh really? Quiet night in, just the two of you?"
She really hated how much she was blushing these days. But, a part of her, the giddy and excited part, shrugged a shoulder.
"He says it's a modified date. Since we're on the Neb and can't really go anywhere."
She half-expected the Operator to make a joke but instead he just shook his head. "That's freaking adorable."
"I know!" She found two mugs and started to prepare their teas, adding, "It's almost… unnerving."
Tank stood up, walking with his bowl to stand at the little counter next to her. "Which part? Being treated like a princess? Or the fact we finally found the One and he is already completely and utterly whipped by you?"
Her lips twitched. "Ooh, I'm going to have to go with both."
"Fair enough. And for the record, since I know you've been waiting with bated breath, I approve."
"Oh, do you?"
"Hundred and ten percent, yes. I know he has memories of you, in some obscure way, but I like that he's still making an effort. It's like, he's the One—the guy who's going to save Zion and the world. And he is still living and breathing to make you happy."
He was that, Trinity thought. She could see it on his face, the way he lit up when she came into view. The way he always moved, however casually, closer to her.
It was more than familiarity. He was familiar with everyone on the crew, but he made her feel so damn special.
"It sounds unbelievable when you say it like that," she said as she grabbed a tray and started to fill two bowls.
"So absurd that it has to be real."
With a smile, she picked up the tray. "See you tomorrow."
"As your friend, have fun. As the guy who bunks in the room next to you, please don't have too much fun."
Trinity rolled her eyes. "Good night, Tank."
"Bet it will be."
She transitioned the tray to one hand and shot him her middle finger over her shoulder as she went back to their room.
Ships had been designed for utility, not for comfort. For that reason, Trinity knew that there wasn't much she could do to brighten the room up.
That said, she unlocked the little table from where it was strapped to the wall and moved it so that it was next to the bed. She quickly found a spare blanket and set it across the table as a makeshift cloth, before setting their dinners side by side.
She was nervous. Actually fucking nervous, which seemed almost silly to her.
Trinity rarely got nervous in the Matrix. And while fear occasionally bubbled up when they met a sentinel on a search and destroy mission, it felt far more justifiable than this.
Nervous over dinner.
A date, at that.
She ran a hand through her hair and wondered if there was anything else, she could do to make the room look… nice. Nicer, at least. There were candles on the Neb, but they were supposed to be saved in the event of an emergency or power loss. This was neither, but she wondered if she could get away with taking just one…
She was saved from having to make a decision when the door opened. Neo slipped back inside, dressed in a fresh set of slacks and a blue sweater. He'd found one with minimal wear and tear. It was well-fitted. He looked really good.
She wondered if she should have changed but the thought quickly vanished from her mind as Neo grinned at her.
"Looks great."
Trin found herself smiling back. "Making do on the Neb." Spying a bottle in his hand, she asked, "Is that Dozer's homebrew?"
Neo nodded. "Stopped by his room on the way over. It's no bottle of wine but it'll do."
Smirking, Trin added, "Just go easy. A sip of that can knock Mouse on his ass."
"Don't worry. I have no intentions of getting drunk. I just thought it might help us both to relax a bit."
He closed the space between them, setting the bottle on the table. In their small room, it didn't take much.
He caught her chin in his hand and angled her face up. She expected him to kiss her, but he didn't. Instead, Neo just seemed to be soaking in her sight.
It was only a bit disconcerting, but she still shivered under his gaze.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Neo…"
He really shouldn't be allowed to say things like that, she thought. It wasn't fair, the way he could make a statement and just demolish every single wall she had spent a lifetime carefully constructing.
"I still can't believe you're real," he admitted.
"Very real," Trinity promised.
Finally, he bowed his head, pressing his lips to hers.
They were still so soft and not used to the coldness on the Neb. Warm and assured, his kiss made her a little weak in the knees. Again, she had to remind herself that while Neo was familiar to her, he knew her completely. He knew her body intimately.
And that was an intimidating thought.
With a peck to her lips, Neo broke the kiss. He stroked her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hand, reaching for hers. He led her over to the bed, carefully sliding in so as not to disturb the table she had set up.
He waited for her to sit first. Despite their earliest encounters, in which Neo had thought himself dreaming, he was proving to be quite the gentleman. Which fit in with everything she had seen from him prior to meeting him.
In the Matrix, Neo had been such a gentle creature. It had really thrown her for a loop. Usually, when Morpheus found an individual he believed to be the One, they were characterized by blind ambition or strength.
For a while, Morpheus had even thought she could be the One.
The Oracle had shut that down fast with her revelation. She hadn't been disappointed to not be the One. Truthfully, she was grateful not to have the burden of all that placed on her own shoulders but then the Oracle had hit her with the rest.
Entwined with the One, bound to the One.
A thought that had been so much more frightening before she met Neo.
The moment they started watching him, she knew he was different than the usual potentials Morpheus chose. After just one night on duty, she realized very quickly that she would have to either lie to herself or accept that they had found the One.
Still, nothing could have prepared her for the night in the club.
Her world had spun on its axis exponentially faster and she no longer knew what direction she was going in. And she could not bring herself to care.
Neo opened Dozer's homebrew and poured a hearty shot into each of their teas.
He handed her the first mug as he set down the bottle. Then lifted his own.
"To what's real," he toasted, and she raised her cup, echoing his sentiment. They clinked their mugs together. She took a large gulp, feeling her nerves building.
Because now he was here. In her room. He was sleeping in her bed. Tangling his life with hers until she was no longer sure which strings belonged to him and which were hers.
Neo, on the other hand, seemed to be sipping at his beverage. Probably for the best. He had no tolerance to the heavy stuff yet.
She set her mug back down and caught Neo's eyes.
It really wasn't fair that he was so handsome.
"So, what were you up to while I was being put through basic training?" Neo handed her a bowl.
Trinity rolled her eyes. "Basic training?"
"Apoc is a drill sergeant."
She felt herself grin in response. "I'll be sure to pass on the message."
"Oh, please don't. I like being able to move my limbs." He took his own bowl and dramatically demonstrated being able to lift his spoon. Trinity found herself laughing in response, still in awe of the man in front of her.
"I was running repairs most of the morning," she answered after swallowing a bite. "Then I had to do some paperwork. Respond to a communication from Commander Lock."
Neo barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "What did Deadbolt want?"
Her lips twitched at the nickname used on a man Neo technically hadn't actually met yet. "Yesterday, I sent in the new red pill paperwork, which is standard for whenever we unplug anyone. Lock wanted to know why we pulled someone of your age out of the Matrix."
"And what did you tell him?"
"Half-truths. Agents were after you, limited time to make a decision, and we assessed that it was better for your safety to take you than to leave you in the Matrix. I'm sure by the time I check the communications tomorrow he'll have sent another message but there's nothing he can do about it."
"Quite literally too late," Neo agreed. "I'm not sure how much of what I know actually translates into this world, but I'll give you fair warning: Lock does not like me."
Trinity found herself unable to stop smiling as they conversed. "Lock doesn't like anybody."
"Which is perfect, because you won't find anybody who likes Lock." Neo paused. "Maybe I shouldn't pass judgement until I actually meet him in the real world. I mean, I technically have no real reason to hold as much animosity as I do for him."
"Sounds sweet," Trinity said. "I give you an hour in Zion before you change your mind."
Neo shrugged. "For Niobe's sake, I'll give him a chance." Then he paused and sighed. "It has occurred to me that I technically haven't met Niobe, either."
"No."
And fuck, it was confusing for her because he talked about all these people like he knew them. He had memories that weren't real, both from the Matrix and from his subconscious and Trinity wasn't sure if one was more valid than the next.
"It sounds like you're remembering more," she commented.
"Some things are still hazy," Neo admitted. "But the dreams are becoming a little bit clearer. Everything is."
"You were on a large dose of painkillers while we were working on you. It might have kept you a bit groggy."
Neo nodded. "Maybe. But I also think I'm just remembering more. Before… so much of what I dreamed almost seemed to disappear when I was waking. The dreams with you were easy to recall because I had them so many times that they became more habit than dream, but the other ones… it's like, the more time I spend with the crew, the more I'm remembering."
"It's a lot to process."
Again, he nodded. "But let's not talk about that. Why don't you tell me about being unplugged?"
"You don't already know?"
"Bits and pieces," he admitted. "Still, I'd like to hear you tell it."
"It was shortly after I hacked the IRS…"
"Which, if I haven't told you, is incredibly hot."
She shot him a half-hearted glare. "I was fifteen."
"To be fair, I was the same age at the time."
"But you hadn't picked up hacking yet."
"True." Although he was interested in computers, he hadn't been able to afford his own until college. "Why the IRS? I mean, at fifteen you weren't paying taxes."
Trinity shrugged a shoulder and set down her mostly eaten dinner back on the table. She leaned back scooting back across the bed until she hit the wall. "Because no one had done it before. Because I hated the government. Because… I was fifteen and stupid?"
"Clearly not stupid." Neo set his own bowl down before scooting back to sit next to her, against the wall.
She smiled at that. "I was impulsive. And I didn't fully think through the consequences of my actions. I was a freshman in high school by day and a top-10 FBI's most wanted cyber-terrorist by night. It was… a strange time."
Neo smiled softly back, the fondness in his eyes nearly made her lose her breath.
"I bet."
She looked down, unable to handle his gaze. It made her light-headed. "I, uh, I was walking home from the library one day, when a car pulled up next to me. Agents, although I didn't know what that meant, at the time. They told me I was under arrest and to get into the car and I made a break for it.
"At that point, Morpheus had been monitoring me for a couple months. He was reluctant to take me out because I had a good relationship with my family. Typically, he tried to only take kids who wouldn't be missed or people with fewer social ties.
"He had been debating whether to take me for a while but once the Agents targeted me, he made a snap decision. He was already in my city; his crew was taking out another potential."
"Ghost." Neo filled in the blank.
"Yes. He separated from his crew and went after me. I, quite literally, ran into him. It all happened very fast. He told me he could show me what was wrong with the world. That he could tell me what the Matrix was, once and for all, but that it wouldn't be easy. I would lose my life in the process. That if I went with him, I could never go home."
She hesitated. It had been a long time since she truly allowed herself to think back to her life before the Matrix.
Morpheus had been right. It hadn't been easy to walk away from her family without so much as a goodbye. To abandon the life she had carefully constructed, even as a teenager.
But Trinity had craved answers. She had wanted, more than anything, to fill the hole in her chest that consumed her.
Knowing about the Matrix hadn't done that. If anything, it just made the world feel colder. It made sense, of course. She had her answers, had a better understanding for the world around her.
And then the Oracle had called.
Normally, under usual circumstances, going to see the Oracle was a choice. Some people wanted insight or answers beyond what Morpheus or Zion could provide for them. They wanted clarity or reason or something to help them navigate their new world.
Trinity had been skeptical of the very idea of an all-seeing Oracle.
When Morpheus had told them, Ghost had been eager to see her and learn more. And Trinity had, politely, declined.
Before Ghost and Morpheus could even jack back into the Matrix, they received a message from one of the Oracle's priestesses.
A brief note, acknowledging Trinity's disbelief and reluctance, but asking, nonetheless, for her attendance for tea.
Fucking tea.
And while she had still been nervous, still unsure, Morpheus had pushed her.
"It's a great honor for the Oracle to request one's presence," he had told her.
So, she went.
For tea. And cookies. And a conversation with a grandmotherly woman who successfully fucked her up in a matter of minutes.
The result of which, Trinity realized, was now sitting in front of her.
"You must have been frightened."
"Terrified," she admitted, before realizing that Neo wasn't talking about the Oracle, but about taking the red pill. She thought back to the moment where Morpheus had held a pill on either outstretched hand.
Neo's hand found its way to her thigh, squeezing gently in support.
"I—I've never regretted my choice. But it was hard to leave my family. And I didn't have time to fully process what it would mean before I took the pill."
"You were fifteen," he reminded her. "It's hard to understand anything at fifteen." Neo stopped, his eyes widening a fraction almost in surprise. Trinity inclined her head, unsure what was going on in his head.
"What's wrong?"
"Fifteen," he repeated.
"Yeah?"
Neo swallowed. "Was it summer?"
"Yes." She narrowed her eyes.
"That was about the time that the dreams started."
Her own eyes widen, her lips parting. "O-oh."
"I… is that possible? No, no, that can't be right."
"Given the circumstances, I'm not sure I can classify this as coincidence or synchronicity."
He was silent, looking down, like he was trying to process it all.
Welcome to the club.
She wondered if she should resist the urge to close the space between them, to allow them each the space to process it all.
Fuck it, she decided instead.
Trinity rolled to her knees, following through before she could change her mind. She leaned forward, reaching for his face, angling his head up to kiss him.
She still didn't know what it all meant but she was certain that she felt more at home in his arms than she ever had in the Matrix, the Neb, or even Zion.
Neo's hand wound its way into her hair, cupping her head, as his other arm circled her. He pulled her closer and she found herself climbing onto his lap. He hummed his approval, the vibration of his lips making her nearly dizzy.
And it's like, all at once, the hole inside of her chest was gone.
"Trin…" he said her name in a desperate voice, kissing her again until they were both breathless.
He had been dreaming about her for fifteen years. It had never occurred to him that his dreams could be based in reality. That Trinity, his Trinity, was real.
She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his.
"I'm so afraid," Neo whispered, "that every time I open my eyes, you're going to be gone. That this is just an elaborate dream or maybe I got hit by a car on my way home from work and this is just a coma."
"I'm here," she told him, squeezing harder. "You're awake and this is real."
"Can I… can I just hold you for a while? While we talk?"
She nodded, her lips twitching. Trinity slipped to the side so that she was sitting across his lap rather than straddling him. Neo rewrapped his arms around her as she settled, resting her head on his shoulder.
She placed a hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was strangely comforting "Tell me about when they started."
He slipped a hand under her shirt, feeling her skin. It wasn't sexual, she knew. It was meant to ground him the same way her hand over his heart was helping her remain steady.
"The first dream I remember was the club where we met. And I remember it feeling so surreal. I didn't understand half of the words I was saying but I remember you. You warned me that people were after me and told me that there were answers out there."
"You must have been confused."
Thinking back, he hadn't been confused. At fifteen, his first reaction to dreaming of a beautiful woman pressing against his body was to wake up with a physical reaction, which he had immediately taken care of.
He probably shouldn't comment on that.
"At first, I thought it was just a random dream. Collection of my subconscious and all that. But I kept having different dreams. Some in the Matrix, the others on the Neb, or in Zion. It was all too… detailed.
"I used to take the bus to one of the local colleges in high school to be able to use their computer. I'd try to find things about you, but after the IRS, it was like you were wiped from the map.
"But I found leads on the Matrix. Nothing I could access, but ghosts and whispers pointing me in the right direction."
Toward you.
His hand rubbed circles on her back as he continued. "It was too chaotic to make sense but there were too many coincidences to let it go. After a while, I thought I was going crazy."
She couldn't blame him. She'd think the same thing if their position was reversed.
"You really thought you were dreaming that night in the club."
Neo nodded. "I'd had that dream so many times before. It felt real, but it always felt real, you know? Like I was going through the motions of the dream, waiting to find out which version I was in for."
"Hence, propositioning me?" she teased.
Neo half-laughed, half-sighed. "Yeah, I did that, didn't I? I'm really sorry about that. I can't imagine how confusing that must have been for you."
"It was… unexpected to say the least. We weren't going in with the plan to unplug you that day."
"I'm glad you did."
"Me too." She nuzzled her head against his shoulder, snuggling into his embrace. "Even if I did catch a lot of shit for it."
"Did you?" He sounded almost amused.
"Are you kidding? I kissed you while you were still plugged into the Matrix."
"Twice."
She lifted her head off his shoulder to shoot him a look.
"Uh-huh. Even fucking Morpheus got in on teasing me."
Neo grinned all the more. "Yeah, well, I like it when you're flustered. And flushed." His hand cupped her cheek and, right on cue, felt her face heat up.
"You do seem to have that effect on me."
"And this is while I'm trying to be good." He leaned forward, bringing his cheek to hers to whisper in her ear. "Just imagine what it'll be like when I start to misbehave."
The teasing words sent a wave of warmth through her body faster and harder than Dozer's homebrew ever had. Oh, he should not be allowed to say things like that, she thought. And yet… a part of her was dying to know what he was like when he wasn't focused on being good.
She appreciated that he had slowed down, that he was truly trying to give up some of his control with what he knew by letting Trinity take control of the speed. But fuck…
The things he knew.
Part of her wanted to know it all and part of her wanted time to just stop so she could just lay down in his arms and not have to think about the rest. To ignore, just for a little while, that Neo was the One and that he was meant for great things. That the moment they left the safety of their bedroom, he would be forced to become a hero.
Neo kissed her cheek before he leaned back against the wall.
She didn't want to think about his mission or the expectations that were already starting to pile up on his shoulders. Instead, she wanted to just enjoy the night. His presence.
"Tell me about your life in the Matrix," she said.
And maybe, for a little while, they could leave the rest of the world behind.
He told her of his life. Of the job he hated and his nighttime activities. How he had to force himself not to spend every spare moment trying to sleep, to get back to her.
And, in turn, she told him about monitoring him. About sitting down at the computer, annoyed, at the start of her shift, only to leave at the end convinced that they had found him.
They talked until the ship went into its overnight stasis and the lights around them dimmed.
Trin caressed his face. "You look exhausted."
He shrugged it off. "I'm fine."
"You spent hours exerting yourself physically and mentally. Why don't you sleep?"
"Haven't I done enough of that?"
She read between his words, though she wasn't sure how she knew to. "I'll be here when you wake."
"I"—he hesitated—"can I stay?"
Her heart ached. It was his room, too. At least in his head, but he was still trying to give her space and control and everything else she might need to adjust and she adored him all the more for it.
She nodded and admitted, "I'd prefer it if you did."
Neo sighed, almost in relief.
She got up to move the table back to the wall, just in case any late-night sentinel activity forced the ship to jolt. Neo tugged back the covers as she did, climbing under and opening his arm for her to join him.
She slipped under, face to face, so she could see him. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him.
"Good night, Trin."
#the matrix#the matrix fanfiction#the Matrix has queue#the matrix fanfic#matrix fanfiction#neo x trinity#trinity (the matrix)#neo (the matrix)
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insecure! - Spencer
we’ve got some insecurities in the house!! this is fic 2 of the day so i feel okay with things again. it’s another fluffy ending and some honesty.
request: ((I CANT FIND IT ON MY PAGE SO IM PARAPHRASING)): Could you do a fic where the reader is insecure and Spencer figures it out?
________________________
“Y/n, why don’t you like yourself?” Spencer asked, looking up at you.
You and Spencer were sitting in the coffee shop, both of you writing. Spencer was writing something by hand but didn’t want you to know so you didn’t bother as you continued to type on your computer. You were in the middle of finishing incomplete paperwork for your boss, who graciously stacked files on your desk to do instead of his actual assistant’s desk.
“What makes you think I hate myself, Spencer?” You said, not looking up.
You were purely focused on the document in front of you, wondering where some of these random words came from. There were words that you knew didn’t belong anywhere on the report and yet, here they were. This had to be the work of his assistant because your boss might be dumb but he wasn’t this stupid.
“Not hate, that’s different. You don’t like yourself. Why?” Spencer looked up from what he was writing on paper.
You never tried to read Spencer’s horrendous penmanship because it was just terrible sometimes, especially when he was rushing or tired. But you knew how to read it when you cared to look at it. Quickly glancing over the paper, upside down from where you were sitting across from him, all you could see was the word, ‘wow,’ which meant he was writing his letter to his mom.
“What has gotten into you? I like myself just fine” You asked, looking at his sweater vest. It had a weird pattern on it.
“You’re avoiding the question.” Spencer was being persistent and it was getting on your nerves.
You looked at Spencer, finally making eye contact. You were pretty sure there was something bothering him but you didn’t know what it was and you didn’t want to pry in Spencer’s life if he didn’t want to tell you what it was.
Spencer had been acting weird the entire time the two of you were together today. He didn’t have a case, just doing paperwork at the office so he got off early. He immediately wanted to hang out with you, no matter where it was.
“What’s wrong?” You squinted at him.
“Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to know since you don’t look at your reflection often, if ever.” Spencer was so matter-of-fact when he wanted to be.
“Just because I don’t want to look at my reflection, you assume I hate myself?” You lowered your computer screen a little bit so Spencer could see your face.
“Not hate. Again, that’s a completely different conversation.” Spencer studied your face intensely.
“Spencer, are you really making me justify myself to you? Are you actually starting this over me not particularly liking what I see when I look at myself?” You said through gritted teeth. “Do I really need to appease the good doctor with an explanation?”
“I would like an answer so yes.” Spencer obviously didn’t pick up on the sarcasm. Or if he did, he was blatantly ignoring it.
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t cooperate. I just don’t like how I look most of the time. I think my face is all wrong, misshapen in some areas. I see myself and I think about how I’m not… Right. I’m just wrong and looking at my reflection is a reminder of that.” You said, unable to look at Spencer. You looked at the hot barista behind the counter who wasn’t paying attention to you at all.
“Okay. And why don’t you like the rest of you? Why don’t you like who you really are?” Spencer pressed a little bit more. You didn’t know why but he was on a tear today.
“Spencer, what are you trying to do? Remind me of everything I work so hard to shove down every day? Fine. I will tell you. I’m dumb. I can’t keep up with anyone because my head is wired differently than any normal person. I have one friend. Everyone else left me because I was too much to handle, according to each of them. I’m a quitter. Things get hard and I shut down without any explination. I’m the literal definition of a loser and you wouldn’t get any of that because you’re… You. You walk into any given room and you’re automatically the smartest person there. You’re qualified for everything under the sun and you’re sure as hell beautiful. You really wanna know why I don’t remotely like myself, Spencer? I’m a bottom feeder. And compared to you? I might as well not exist.” You finished with a sigh.
Spencer looked stunned into silence, which was rare but possible. He was absolutely astounded to hear everything you just listed put together, in one descriptionn. He wasn’t expecting this but you weren’t expecting his rebuttle, either.
“Do you really believe that, all of that, about yourself?” Spencer asked.
“I wouldn’t say it for shits and giggles, Spencer.” You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.
“Oh.” There was a silent pause in the crowded coffee shop. It was quite loud and you weren’t sure if it had always been that noisy or if the noise grew louder over the past couple minutes.
“Well believe me when I say this…” Spencer leaned forward over the table and you huffed before leaning forward to listen to Spencer.
“I wish I was you.” He said before leaning back in his chair. His hands were tapping on the table nervously.
“You what? Spencer, that's one sick joke after having me open up to you.” You said, sitting back and rolling your eyes.
“I’m serious. I would trade lives with you in a heartbeat most of the time.” He said, nodding his head.
“Are you on something? Tell me you’re not back on drugs, Spencer.” You said in all seriousness.
“No, y/n. I would switch lives with you and I’ll tell you why.” He took a breath,
“You’re versatile. You can blend in or stand out, depending on how you feel at that moment. You have the choice to try or not when it comes to impressing people. You can stun them immediately or you can let them be amazed gradually. I will always be the baby of any group and I need to work three times as hard to get a note of recognition that I’m in the room, even if they’re impressed with my credentials. People like you. They may not stick around all the time but who needs them? They like you because you have a way with people that I clearly don’t have. You don’t have to pretend that snide comments or getting shut down in the middle of a thought you’re excited about doesn’t bother you. All these things and more. I wish I could be you.”
“Spencer...” You reached your arm across the table to put on top of his fidgeting hand.
“You aren’t the only one who wishes things were different, y/n. We just have to accept that the things we hate about ourselves may be the reason someone falls in love with us or it might be the deciding factor in a friendship. Some of the things you hate brought me to loving you because I think about them differently. If someone is supposed to be in your life, they won’t make you feel like there’s any reason to hate yourself because you’re special to them. Not just the parts that they want, all parts of you are special. And y/n, all of you is special to me, whether you like it or not.” Spencer smiled.
“Doctor Reid, did you just say you loved me?” You said, teasing him.
“I was speaking generally.” He said, trying to backtrack. It was too late.
“You generally meant me though, right?” You continued. He looked happy again.
“Yes, y/n, I meant you. I do love you.” Spencer said with a big, cheesy smile.
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Robin - The first Miniseries - Issue #1 Review - What makes it, and Tim Drake work? (R.I.P Tom Lyle)
One thing that I’ve adored about Tim Drake since I first started reading him. Was how he wasn’t even close to a typical superhero.
He wasn’t handsome (well, gets called cute, but that’s different), he wasn’t confident, he didn’t always know what to do, he wasn’t what you’d consider super cool, he just wasn’t. He was Timmy Drake, he was a scared, anxious, geeky, kid, and the first Robin miniseries that came out in 1991 showed exactly who Tim was. It showed exactly who he was straight from the first page of the comic.
When I read a comic, I absolutely love it, when the main character is a strong character. Not physically, or mentally strong, but when they’re just so there, that they feel like a real person (not in a delusional way, just a fleshed out way), it’s when reading a character is at it’s best, because it feels the most alive.
I felt like Timmy was a real dweeb of a kid, caught in an astounding situation when I read it. When a character is strong in the way Tim’s character is strongly written, it’s easier to get sucked into the adventure. Even though the adventure may be unrelatable, when the character is grounded and real enough, it helps make the adventure feel real. Much like how, despite Indiana Jones collected typically religious items and seeing fantastical things, it still feels grounded most of the time to keep it from feeling straight up silly all the time, because Indiana Jones himself is grounded.
Tim’s an incredibly good protagonist in almost every way you can want a protagonist to be, besides not being close to a typical action lead. He carries the story, his personality is strong (even if it’s not loud and bombastic), and you want him to succeed is.
He’s a sheltered geek that’s been put out into a world he barely knows anything about, so he can learn to be a hero, before he even feels he’s ready, but even when it’s clearly getting to him. He’s not going to let it get in the way of getting better.
Tim’s awkward, out of his element, confused, scared. He has no clue what he’s doing even in social situations given the fact he’s in France during this story and doesn’t know anyone. All he can really do is his best, and try to stand back up after being knocked down onto his butt constantly, and stand up for what he thinks is right.
Some people consider Tim boring, and it’s one of those things I don’t really understand too well. They’re one hundred percent free to disagree, it’s a matter of tastes in the end, but I assume it comes from how Tim isn’t the typical superhero when people read for a superhero. He isn’t Batman, he isn’t the Flash, he isn’t Superman. He’s more Spider-Man if anything else, because as his character developed during the miniseries, he became strong enough to hold his own ongoing series even if he isn’t like most other superheroes, in-fact he’s just a superhero’s sidekick.
That Robin ongoing series would be the longest running teenage superhero comic in DC history only beat out by Clark Kent as Superboy.
This doesn’t mean the first miniseries is perfect though. It has it’s downfalls like being too uneventful in it’s first issue, but for the first miniseries to star any Robin as Robin, it’s great because it’s great for the character.
It took what Robin was meant to be all the way back in the 40s, but took it to be something more complex for a modern audience. Making Tim genuinely the best Robin as Robin in my opinion, as far as serving the purpose of the title, and still being great on their own separate to Batman, because Tim made Robin a solo hero as much as Robin was a sidekick.
If Justice League was the Queens and King’s of DC, Tim as Robin was the freaking Prince of DC during the 90s, because he even got to have an 80 page giant during then, something reserved for the biggest heroes. He was that popular when writers still cared enough to actually write him as himself, and not change him into their ideal.
So while I’m totally overhyping this, I’m just explaining how cool Tim used to be back in the days of better writing, because I think it’s something forgotten at this point for the most part.
His first miniseries though, was totally low-key, just to say it since I overhyped it people might expect a blockbuster, but it’s not like that. It’s low to the ground. It wasn’t Superman fighting off an alien invasion, it’s Spider-Man. It’s a scared boy in a situation that should be handled by a brave, heroic man, but the scared boy has a big enough heart and enough taught skill that he feels he has to be the one to save the day if no one else will.
It’s about Tim as a character more than it is the typical super-heroics.
--
The series is set up really well to let you know who Tim is. It fleshes Tim out as a character even if it is relatively low-key compared to a bombastic sci fi character or warrior of some level.
They show you how he feels with him being scared. They give him a sense of being real by showing his anxiety, and they show you some of his motivation and sadness. They open Tim up to be vulnerable quite often to the reader.
Tim compared to other heroes, is a more emotionally vulnerable person. It allows him to stick out from more emotionally constipated or emotionally open characters. He’s open to the reader, but he’s still learning who he is. So a lot of it’s kept in side as he struggles to process the situation he’s being put through.
As far the things most heroes have that makes them a good hero. Tim doesn’t have that. He’s been established as a computer geek that has no idea what he’s doing.
When it comes to Robin. Practically every other Robin was a natural. That wasn’t the case for Tim. There’s a misconception that Tim was a Gary Stu, but he’s genuinely not. He gets the crap beat out of him a lot in this miniseries by just about anyone.
They do a good job in the miniseries, by remembering to put Tim in different situations to help him be fleshed out. To give the reader a good idea of who this kid is as you read him. The reader knows who Tim Drake is when they see him get the crap beat out of him. It lets people be attached to him and feel something when he’s down on his luck and not doing good. It makes him sympathetic in a way that isn’t forced, because you expect the main character to be beat up, but when you know what the main character is like, it’s closer to seeing a friend be beat up than a character you feel nothing towards, because you don’t know them.
One thing about Tom Lyle’s art that I think really helped the miniseries, is that it’s super obvious that Tim’s a little kid. At least as long as you ignore the stereotypical 90s buff art style. He’s incredibly babyfaced even for his own age, and shorter than every character but ‘the girl’ (because of course the girl has to be shorter. It personally bugs me, but it’s how it is in this). He’s a small kid, even if the typical 90s styled buff art doesn’t make it obvious at first. Every character besides the girl characters all are noticeably taller than him. And while he’s clearly a very serious kid trying to be what he feels he needs to be, and is mature, there’s still these inherent kid-isms in him, because no matter how hard he tries not to be he’s truly just a kid in the end.
He’s a pipsqueak.
So far in the first issue as far as I’ve shown. It shows about all the reasons why Tim doesn’t seem to be a good hero. He’s scared, anxious, emotionally slow to process things, out of his element, geeky, he doesn’t even seem to like girls like the typical action lead, but by the end of the first issue, they remember to show you why he is a hero in the first place.
Because he stands up for people. When there’s a situation that’s bad, he can’t help but jump in. He’s socially awkward in quite a few situations, but when it comes to standing up to someone being gruesome as a person or even just a simple bully, he’ll get out of his element if it means he can help. Tim doesn’t back down from them if he can help it.
Not that he’s good at this.
Like at all.
But Tim’s constantly trying to do his best. Between his massive heart and not wanting to let Bruce down. He keeps getting back up, and is constantly trying to do better.
He did not intend to be Robin when he found Dick Grayson, but when he feels he has to do something. He does something. Much like how he felt he had to be Robin because someone had to be. When a bully is there and no one else will do anything. He steps in. Even if those bullies are actually thugs, and it becomes a Robin situation.
It’s almost like he can’t help himself but save people. He can’t help but be a hero no matter who it is. If it’s a French girl getting smacked by her boyfriend, he’ll help. If it’s a a fully grown American man being beat up by a gang, who he doesn’t even know, let alone what’s going on, he’ll still help.
He tries so hard to help constantly. His little heart can’t help but leap in and help.
--
Just in the first issue. They make sure to let you know that this Robin isn’t just a one note character. He isn’t a nothing happy go lucky kind of pun-filled kid, but he fulfills what a Robin’s supposed to be. He’s a real person, not a stereotype of a sidekick.
Tim might constantly be down on his luck, he may have his butt kicked constantly, he may make mistakes, he may be awkward, he may be a total geek, but he’s still a hero, he’s still idealistic and hopeful, and does his best to make things better before he leaves.
He’s a character, who while he isn’t a typical hero, he has the spirit of a hero deep inside of him, and it’s what helps hold him together. He’s such a fully fleshed out character by the end of his first solo issue compared to how less successful characters are this early. Not that he didn’t have time to become more realized before, but they show you why he is the main character, why you should care and feel for him, and why even despite his dweebie kid-ish-ness, he is the hero.
He gets his butt kicked, but he gets back up to try again.
The character is a kid you can’t help but root for when you pay attention to him.
This miniseries isn’t so much of a grand super hero tale of thrills and constant explosions and excitement, as much as it is a simple character study, of a little geeky boy sheltered in boarding schools that had such a big heart that he became a superhero.
So maybe my fascination with Tim Drake as a character is why I adore this little low-key miniseries so much.
I feel if you’re looking for a typical superhero epic, you will hate this miniseries, but if you love characters first and full-most when reading something, and you have a soft spot for tiny, baby-faced, (mostly) soft spoken dweebs doing their best. You’ll probably love this Robin miniseries if you pay attention to it
The first issue alone, while mostly uneventful plot-wise (which does cause it to drag a bit) is pretty much Tim’s character shown through different scenarios to let you know who he is. Which even then it is great as it works in a similar way to a movie’s three act structure.
However, that doesn’t mean there’s no excitement at all in this miniseries-
It comes next.
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Where to put a good gaming room
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Yoongi apologized for his track, why the fuck are you still so petty about it? HE DIDN'T PRODUCE IT!!! BIGHIT ALREADY ADMITTED THAT HIS CO-PRODUCER CHOSE THE TRACK AND YOONGI DIDN'T KNOW!!!! grow the fuck up and stop being such a hater
Are you kidding me? Are you serious? Please tell me you’re joking because one person cannot seriously be this blind to common sense and reality...?
!!disclaimer, I am not an ARMY!!
However, I genuinely admire Yoongi out of all the members for his pieces and keep up to date with his pieces and activity. His lyrics are really ones that sit with me on a deeper level and align with my principles and values, and I will never find it in myself to carry any malice towards him as a human being.
Hate me if you want, I have no problems with dealing with those who hide behind the screens of their phones and computers.
My post was not directed specifically towards Yoongi alone. If anything, it was directed more towards the mindless fans such as yourself who continue to support artists and celebrities blindly simply because of their social status.
I am not, never have been never will be, and currently in utter disbelief that you would call me a hater when about half of my blog consists of Yoongi content and supporting him, especially his solo work throughout the years.
Regardless, it is beyond astounding that you actually think he had no part in producing "What Do You Think?” when there is video of him sampling the clip early last year in a documentary. He is someone who prides himself on producing, writing, and composing his own songs, so when a track blows up with positive opinion it’s all his work, but when something isn’t well-received and controversial, he doesn’t claim it as his? Come the fuck on.
I’d also like to add that Yoongi himself has not apologized, BigHit apologized for him and in his name in a half-assed Tweet. I do not hate Yoongi and I could never hate him, and I completely understand that foreign social issues—particularly American ones—are not top priority for Koreans. Source: I AM KOREAN.
You don’t just “stumble across” a cult leader/mass murderer’s propaganda sermon, it is something that you have to do lots of digging and researching to even find. The clip of him sampling it is damning and if you deny that he added it onto the track, you are blind. Absolutely morally blind. You need to wake up. You need to grow up.
To add to this, toxic ARMY’s have been showing their true colors on Twitter and other social media platforms. A young Black woman was harassed, DOXED, and sent death threats by ARMYs because of her response to the situation and for purely putting out her opinion onto the Internet. I’m not saying that all ARMY’s are toxic or malicious and the community can be a beautiful place at times—but of all the fandoms I see get thrown into vats of controversy, hate, and unpopular opinion, ARMY’s stand out like a sore thumb. Maybe it’s because the fandom is so large so it only makes sense for there to be as many bad people as there are good, but I believe that fandom culture is unhealthy as a whole and is a purely dogmatic way of thinking.
Let’s say that it really was “an accident” and his co-producer included the clip without Yoongi knowing where it was from. Are you telling me that he went through the entire writing, producing, recording, editing, and finalizing process without asking once where the intro audio was from? Months editing, cropping, trimming, and piecing everything together without asking his “co-producers”, “Hey the clip you used in the first 15 seconds sounds pretty dope and fucking rad, where is it from?” Really? Really? REALLY?
I don’t hate Yoongi but I sure as hell am really fucking disappointed in him and BigHit’s handling of the situation. Whether it was his work or not (I have strong evidence and reason to believe that it is indeed his work), he should apologize himself and face the backlash, not let his company coddle him like a baby and shelter him from his critics, only to have him write a diss track and call all of them haters and anti’s.
If he had come clean and said, “I produced the track and sampled the audio because ‘xyz’ or because it just sounded cool and I didn’t do enough research into the historical and cultural background. I apologize for my mistakes. I made mistakes and I understand that they were not nor will ever be under any circumstance acceptable. I messed up. I’m sorry.” This would have definitely earned some backlash but as an idol, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t, so why don’t you just practice what you preach and do what’s morally right?
You are almost 30 years old and you can’t stand up against your own company to speak for yourself? You are a worldwide superstar “idol” that spits out diss track after diss track like clockwork, say you love yourself and don’t give a shit about the haters, , fame never gets to your head, and that , yet you don’t have confidence the It’s not only offensive, childish, and complicit with what you stand against as an artist, but embarrassing, tone deaf, and disrespectful as a human being.
This is the problem with the Kpop industry and a lot of it’s mass fanbase. You are the problem. Yes, idols and celebrities are human, but this does not give them a hall pass to do things that are wrong or hide behind the big names of their company and PR staff. This is more towards BigHit and not so much Yoongi, but is money really worth this? Is your fame and status really more valuable than the integrity of human rights and basic common sense?
This way of thinking disgusts me. The Kpop fandom ceases to make me speechless. This platform at times makes me want to scream and rip my hair out, and if I get death threats and hate mail from putting my opinion out there regarding this situations as a Korean American, it only proves my point so keep them coming.
BigHit made a mistake. Yoongi made a mistake. Admit that they did not handle it well at all, especially considering the weight and power they have in American media and culture. With BTS and BigHit being aware of the current world’s social climate, it was wrong of him to handle the situation the way he did and I am extremely disappointed. I do not think that I will be able to respect or love him the same way I did before this fuck up, purely out of what I believe in and stand for as a human being.
Min Yoongi was and still is wrong and he knows it.
양심 없니? 그냥 사과를 하면 되는 것을 이렇게 끌어낼 꺼니? 너도 잘못한 거 알잖아. 인정해. 거의 30살이 돼가는데 유치하게 사과도 재대로 못해? 실수한 걸 인정 못해? 민윤기, 제발 정신 좀 차려.
#kpop#kpop rants#here come the death threats#i already have a few of them in my inbox#you're just proving my point#kpop rant#k pop#yoongi#bts#unpopular opinion#min yoongi#bangtan boys#suga#bighit#bang shi hyuk#korea#what do you think#d-2#agust d#kpop unpopular opinions
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Hunter X Hunter Anime Plot
The Hunter Exam itself is just the principal bend of Hunter x Hunter, taking up around the initial twenty scenes, of which there are one hundred and forty-eight (forty-six on the off chance that you avoid the recap), and that is on the grounds that the Hunter Exam isn't Hunter x Hunter. It is the start of Hunter x Hunter, the minor venturing stone for the whole excursion to come. The arrangement handles numerous accounts, huge and little, over the degree of its run, brought together by the consideration of in any event a few these four characters, and these accounts grow the arrangement's class, tone and topical strengths ten times.
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It begins entirely bright, even wacky, feeling precisely as you would envision a shounen tale about high school young men following their fantasies to be, yet after some time, it veers away from that straightforward on the off chance that engaging story to turn into a mission to support a companion, at that point a battling competition, at that point a wrongdoing spine chiller, at that point a computer game, at that point a zoological odyssey that I don't have a clue how to satisfactorily consolidate and speak with words yet it is stunning. There's not actually ever an exact defining moment, the arrangement just shows signs of improvement and better, and pulls you more profound and more profound. The tone gets darker, truly, and a darker tone isn't naturally better (you can have a dim and awful show simply as a joyful and astounding one) at the same time, it works quite well with the story that is being told here, and the messages, and the scores of character improvement, that are being introduced.
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On the off chance that you converse with any Hunter x Hunter fan, the one major bend that will consistently come up is Chimera Ant, and Chimera Ant is… abnormal. It's acceptable, great (a few scenes "oh my goodness" great), however it's abnormal. It is a 60 scene plotline that contains the close to sum of Hunter x Hunter's last half, and one that drops pretty much every other earlier settled character other than Gon and Killua for new clashes and another cast. Without giving an excess of away, the circular segment is basically about Chimera, or beastmen (consequently the name), in a wide, peculiar story that devours truly a large number of lives. It turns into a startlingly passionate and human story, with multitudinous scenes deserving of applause. I do have bandy with Chimera Ant, that I will positively address later, however all in all, it is an extraordinary encounter, as are a large portion of the other last story curves. Along these lines, in the event that you are not or were not excessively intrigued by the initial scenes of Hunter x Hunter, which is reasonable, continue onward. Try not to stop. I don't know any individual who traversed the later circular segments without conceding "no doubt, that was truly damn strong".
Savvy Shounen
What's more, obviously, every bend in Hunter x Hunter, from the most basic up to Chimera Ant, has fights. Not insignificant takes on - conflicts. A battle can be nevertheless a fight, a tossed clench hand or two, a deftly set punch or cut, while fights infer something more fantastic, something with system and strategies and something beyond overwhelming your rival. Tracker x Hunter has battles, obviously, however the greater part of its activity, particularly later in the arrangement, is mind boggling, unpredictable fights.
Outline for article titled Grexs iHunter x Hunter/i(2011) Review
The absolute first scene, in the absolute first scene, sets up how this is all going to go down. This isn't a shounen anime where kinship naturally bests all, where the principle characters will by one way or another draw a deus ex machina out of their aggregate asses to make all the difference essentially by excellence of putting stock in one another. This is an anime where cerebrums are similarly as significant as sturdiness. Toward the start of Episode 1, to persuade his temporary mother Mito-san that he is prepared for the Hunter test, Gon must catch the "Ruler of the Lake", or a monster fish. Normally, Gon finishes the undertaking as usual, however he doesn't simply shout as loud as possible, pull energetically, put stock in himself and blast. One mammoth fish angled. No, he utilizes strategies. Gon, in the wake of snaring the monster, circles the line around a tree, working the power of contact to further his potential benefit and making the catch sensibly conceivable.
It's such a straightforward arrangement, yet it establishes the pace for how Hunter x Hunter moves toward all contention going ahead. It's infrequently as simple as having a solid capacity; you need to arrange the solid capacity, work it into your battle style, lure the adversary, think about their restricting technique. On the off chance that you charge in without intuition, you will lose, and regardless of whether you do stop to figure, you may lose at any rate, in light of the fact that the adversary thinks slightly better. Scene 32 was the main scene that truly dazzled me in such manner, being a competition fight with arranging and readiness that ran profound enough to make triumph everything except guaranteed for one of the warriors. A long round of dodgeball around Episode 70 is another (and no, I'm dead serious).
Outline for article titled Grexs iHunter x Hunter/i(2011) Review
However, the most clear and most noteworthy activity grouping to discuss would be the peak of Chimera Ant, an extended length of time beginning at Episode 112, and going on for some increasingly from that point forward, in which the customary quick beliefs of "activity" are tossed out the window, getting us gigantic yet edible measures of inward system monologs or straight free portrayal, only moves, counter-moves, and counter-counter-moves as a wide number of characters with a wide assortment of capacities conflict. It is at about that moment that I understood how wonderful Hunter x Hunter was, on the grounds that what it was doing was so one of a kind thus intriguing that I needed it to keep going forever. (Unfortunately, it doesn't, however we'll return to that.)
The Quartet (and Especially The Duo)
Obviously, solid story development and introduction doesn't really correspond to solid characters as well (as last time's Shin Sekai Yori would verify), however for this situation, it does. The early arrangement of Hunter x Hunter would persuade that it is a show about the four Hunter candidates, Gon, Killua, Leorio and Kurapika, which is… not so much evident. In fact it is a show about just Gon and Killua, with Kurapika accepting significant concentration in just a solitary circular segment and Leorio being pretty much only a huge side character the entire time.
Outline for article titled Grexs iHunter x Hunter/i(2011) Review
Which isn't to state that I detest both of them, since that would be false. Kurapika, as I referenced in the reason, is a figuring youthful individual, harboring a specific heartlessness and fierceness after the butcher of his clansmen, the Kurta, on account of a gathering of desperados called the Phantom Troupe. His quest for retribution describes his, er, whole character, reaching a crucial stage around Episode 50, which is the bend I referenced where he really gets center, a circular segment which closes at Episode 60 with the mysterious articulation "We'll see him once more". (Definitely, no you won't.) Kurapika is likewise striking for his exceptionally gender ambiguous physical appearance, to the point that I actually thought he was a young lady until the show disclosed to me in any case (which isn't helped by the way that he is voiced by Miyuki Sawashiro). The absence of an articulated bust, wore by each other female character right off the bat in the story, should've been obvious looking back, however… I don't know. Be that as it may, nothing, I surmise, so...
Outline for article titled Grexs iHunter x Hunter/i(2011) Review
On to Leorio! He's the "typical person" of the gathering. He isn't truly striking in a battle, or especially keen, or bold, or just, or a lot of anything truly. He's only a person, one who can be uproarious and frequently lets his feelings defeat him, despite the fact that he is certainly kind on a fundamental level. Unquestionably the most straightforward character of the group of four, however one I despite everything discovered agreeable and remarkably engaging.
Discussing straightforward, we have Gon. Gon, by configuration, is entirely run of the mill, unremarkable, even conventional, at the story's start. In a world with super powers like hyper vision, smoke control and teleportation, Gon after some time builds up a method that is viably a solid punch. This is the sort of child we're managing here. A kind nature, honest and cheerful. He declines to ever forsake his companions, and in every case determinedly holds fast to his own beliefs. Truth be told, right off the bat I discovered his sheer bone-headedness rather disturbing, putting on a show of being prideful, even egotistical, continually demanding reasonable triumph, declining to simply take a success or settle for anything short of undeniable triumph.
Representation for article titled Grexs iHunter x Hunter/i(2011) Review
When Gon in the long run gets his Hunter Badge (spoiler alert: truly, Gon turns into a Hunter), he doesn't utilize it, on the grounds that (because of the conditions of the test), he doesn't feel he's "earned" it, and to exacerbate the situation, the plot rewards him for his rehashed selflessness and idiocy... for some time. In the long run, it raises the genuine peril of taking Gon's perspectives to the sensible extraordinary. His sentiments of sympathy for other people and hating for the individuals who might do hurt become sufficiently able to whip him into what must be portrayed as a blood rage. He'd now and then get things done to make me think he was truly crazy, showing the perils of falling excessively far into the "shounen hero" outlook. You can revile malevolence and fortune your companions, sure, however on the off chance that you don't remove yourself to a degree, and venture once more from the circumstance, you can wind up with exclusive focus, disregarding anything that is going on for your prompt objective, which is a snare that, before the end, Gon falls into rather excessively.
Delineation for article titled Grexs iHunter x Hunter/i(2011) Review
Inverse Gon is Killua, a kid professional killer who begins the arrangement brimming with abhor and demonstrate hatred for. He is a messed up, dangerous child, legitimate and fight situated nearly to say the least, discovering little comfort in kinships and as a rule picking savagery when met with resistance. Killua is traditionally viewed as one of the stronge
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“This place is a mess,” Cristina mumbled under her breath as she and Danse sorted through the absolutely astounding amount of junk. They had been making their way through ArcJet slowly, searching every corner, every computer, every desk and trash can and container they could, and they still hadn’t found a damn deep range transmitter. The fact they knew they weren’t alone in this place only made the pair more cautious, although so far Cristina hadn’t yet seen these ‘synths’ Danse had spoken so negatively about.
“Let’s go further down,” Danse lamented as he searched through the last of the filing cabinets. “That transmitter has to be here somewhere…”
Cristina agreed, and checked her pistol before following him further down. Danse’s Power Armour hissed and whirred with each step, clunking together as he rounded corners and strode purposefully down lengthy corridors. Cristina’s courage was abandoning her with each second, but she refused to flee, not while she still needed Danse’s help.
“Halt!” Danse’s hiss stopped Cristina in her tracks, and she peered around him to see strange metal men patrolling a room. Danse clicked the safety of his rifle off and aimed, staring down the scope at the metal men. They were turning the room upside down, and Cris wondered what they were looking for. Danse seemed to know: “Damn it, I should have guessed the Institute would be here.”
“The Institute…?” she whispered back.
He explained as briefly as he could. Something clicked in the back of her mind, and she wondered… Could Shaun have been taken by these people? But she didn’t ask, pulling her pistol out and following Danse as he snuck towards the door.
It was a pity one of the synths turned and Cristina caught its eyes.
It wasn’t the abrupt detection that made her scream. It was the piercing yellow, the inhuman nature of those eyes that seemed to hold life and intelligence but at the same time did not. Danse yelled as the synths opened fire, pulling Cristina behind him and firing as quickly as he could. His shots were truer than those of the synths, and soon, metal scrap and ashes littered the room. Then he turned on her.
“What was that?”
“I panicked.”
“You don’t appear to have seen a synth before, I’m guessing.”
“You would be guessing correctly,” she admitted. “That thing…”
“That thing, exactly. That abomination.” The venom dripping from his tone made Cristina want to shrivel and turn into dust. She watched him as he kicked a door down and grunted. “Damn it.”
“What?” She strode over and noticed a locked door. “Oh, we should be able to get through that…”
“If we can find a release for this lock.” Danse examined the door. “Look around.”
Cristina spotted the terminal, and made her way over. Booting it up, she noticed it struggled a little, as if it hadn’t been used in centuries. It probably hasn’t, she reminded herself as she sat on the chair in front of it and tried to hack into it. It was a breeze for her—she had a lot of practice—and she managed to unlock the door that way.
Danse turned to face her as it swung open. “Good work, civilian.”
“Thank you.” She stood and walked over, following him inside, pleased with her own abilities.
“The Scribes would have a field day in here,” Danse mused as he and Cristina walked down the stairs. His eyes never left the jet engine suspended in the centre of the chamber, and Cris wondered how in the world he didn’t fall down the stairs. “I’ll have to mark this location for sweep and retrieve after we’ve cleared it out.”
“There’s… nobody in here?” Cristina asked as she looked up at the jet, praying to whatever higher power was listening it didn’t switch on. “I’m going to explore, if you need my help just sing out.”
“Understood.”
Cristina pulled away and walked into a separate room. She could hear whirring, and peered around a corner to find an active generator with a fusion core slotted inside. She hurried over and extracted it, easily able to use it for her own Power Armour back at Sanctuary… or another set if she found one. The terminal attracted her attention, and she rerouted the auxiliary power to the engine… although she didn’t really know why she did that. She also located a strange gun, and picked it up before yelling attracted her attention.
She sprinted out and yelled as she saw a sea of synths closing in on Danse. He noticed her out of the corner of his eye and yelled, “HIT ANY BUTTON YOU SEE! HIT ANYTHING!” So she obliged, slapping her hands down on every button she could… including the big red one she had been reluctant to touch.
The doors sealed, and locked her in. A voice came over the intercom and announced a test of the engine suspended above the battle in front of her. “DANSE!” she screamed as it counted down, but he didn’t appear to be able to hear her as the engine began to fire.
The heat blasted her through the window, and she stumbled back, covering her face. Danse yelled in pain and collapsed to his knees. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see him get reduced to dust.
When the engine died, she looked up and saw him on his knees, gasping for air, but alive! She sprinted out and ran over to him, her heart in her throat. “Oh my God are you okay?!”
“Got… cooked by those… flames,” he managed. “But… my Power Armour… kept me… intact.” He pushed himself to his feet, stumbled a bit, and shook his head. “Let’s keep going…”
“I didn’t find the thingy,” Cristina admitted.
“Not an issue. That lift over there is operational now, while it wasn’t before.”
She headed over to it and hit the call button, waiting as it descended the shaft. Danse stayed beside her, his armour radiating heat, and she almost stepped away. Almost. As the door slid open he gestured for her to go first, and she nodded before stepping in. He stepped in and hit the button, and the elevator ascended until it was in a new room, full of synths.
Danse sprinted out of the room, shouting as he opened fire. The synths whipped around and fired, but they were no match for Danse and his rapid fire. One synth made towards an elevator on the other side of the room, and Cristina shot its knee out. It faceplanted the wall and tried to crawl away, but Danse put it down and the battle was won.
“Can you see the transmitter anywhere?” he asked as he looked around. “Maybe search the bodies over there. I’ll search these ones.”
“Got it.” She walked over to the one who’d attempted escape and found some technology she didn’t understand. This has to be it! She stood and called, “I think I found it!” As Danse looked over she held it up, and he nodded.
“Excellent work. Now, let’s get outside, and we can talk further.”
They headed outside. Cristina had never been more glad to feel the breeze on her face, but she followed Danse and stopped when he turned to her. She could see relief, minor disdain, and surprise in his eyes, but none of it showed on his face.
“Well, that was… not the best work ever, but I must say, I am impressed with how you handled yourself in there.”
“How I handled myself? I hacked a few terminals and picked a few locks, you did most of the shooting.”
“Still, without you, I would likely be dead.”
“And you were almost dead with me, too. That jet engine…”
He raised his hand. “It matters not. What counts is that we retrieved the transmitter, and we are both alive. I’d like to compensate you for your trouble, so here, take this.” He held out his own rifle.
Cristina stared. “I can’t take that.”
“I insist.”
“But you won’t have a weapon?”
He pulled an identical one from somewhere in his armour. “I have an issued spare. Besides, I’d rather you have mine. You need it more than I.” He gazed pointedly at her 10mm as he spoke.
Dogmeat barked beside her, and she blinked. “Hello, boy.”
“Did you leave him at the door?”
“Yeah. Figured it might be safer.” She chuckled, and took the gun, swapping it for the transmitter. “Thank you, Danse. It’s appreciated.”
He nodded. “I would also like to offer you a place within the Brotherhood’s ranks.”
She stopped. The Brotherhood would be able to assist her… but at the same time… “I… I’m sorry, Danse. I’ll have to decline.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “I see. Well, in any case, my offer stands. You are welcome to take me up on it at any time.” He thought on something. “Now, you said you needed assistance once you assisted us?”
“I…” For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to say it anymore. “I did, but… but maybe it’s best if I didn’t bug you with it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She gave a weak smile. “It’s fine, Danse. I’ll… I’ll figure it out myself.”
He doubted this. “Alright, but the Brotherhood would be honoured to assist you.” He said nothing more as he turned and left, leaving her to mull over her decision. Dogmeat whined and licked her hand, and she scratched his ears in turn, wondering if she should have asked…
#fallout#fallout 4#fanfiction#fo4#fo#sole survivor#female sole survivor#f!sosu#sosu#oc: cristina howard#paladin danse#arcjet systems#companion#fallout companions#fallout 4 companions#brotherhood of steel#sai writes#word barf#a continuation of a previous post
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Pairing: (Connor x Reader)
Word Count : 1.6K
Warning(s) : Detroit: Become Human Spoilers
Summary: You return to Detroit after three years to see an old mentor and friend of yours Hank. In the process you reunite with your furry friend Sumo and learn some things about a lovable android named Connor.
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You stood outside of Hank’s house with a lopsided smirk on your face.You were familiar with the house for you had spent much time there before you left Detroit. You knew the ends and outs of the house, but knowing Hank you wouldn’t need to. Hank used to keep everything locked around the place from doors, to windows, even Sumo’s doggy door. However,knowing his situation you knew he most likely fell off his game as of lately and would care less about his own well being.You started at the door just for the heck of it and it was in fact locked.The next thing you checked was the window to the living room area.
You weren’t surprised that the window was unlocked, so you opened it and climbed inside. Unfortunately, as soon as you entered the house you slipped on one of Sumo’s toys and landed on your back with a loud thud.The harsh fall knocked all the wind from your lungs. Your mood quickly became sour, but this was short lived once Sumo himself began to lick your face repeatedly.Sumo had obviously recognized you and possibly your scent and that made you smile. Laughter quickly filled the area around you two once he continued to lick you.
“Down Sumo down.” you said, moving from your back to your knees as the saint bernard continued to attack you with his tongue.
“Yes you are a good boy, I know. Do you know what good boys get? They get a new toy! “ you exclaimed, pulling a brand new squeaky toy from behind your back with a smile. You did not notice but Hank and an android were glancing at you questiongly. You knew your plan to sneak up on Hank was a fail once Sumo approached you but right now you couldn’t care less. You like dogs.
“Hank, there is a highly attractive intruder in your house,what shall I do? “ the android spoke. You heard him and was actually quite flattered he found you attractive but you were too focused on Sumo to respond. Hank was slightly surprised by Connor commentating on your appearance but he ignored it with a simple shake of his head.
“No Connor there's no intruder.” Hank stated boredly, placing the beer he had in his hand on the kitchen table.
“I wouldn't go that far, I did sneak into your house.” you countered finally standing up from the floor. Sumo looked slightly disappointed that you left him but all you had to do was rub his head and he was fine again. He began to occupy himself with the new toy you got him.
“I would not classify your actions as ‘sneaking’, you were easily detected within your first twelve seconds of arrival.” Connor corrected, the more robotic part about being an android shining through.
“Thanks for the status report bot boy. I honestly didn’t expect Sumo to greet me right away or Hank to have an android in his house.” You clarified as you walked over to Connor and Hank. You patted Connor on the shoulder, clearly making him slightly uneasy.
“Yeah well I've changed alot since you left.” Hank stated, taking another swig of his beer.
“I can see that.”. You knew Hank drunk on occasion but it is quite clear that ever since the accident his drinking has become more of a problem.
“Why are you here Y/N ?” Hank questioned.
“They called me back, can you believe that ?” You said, giving him an awkward chuckle along with your explanation.
“Ok and what else. You didn't have to come back if you didn't really want to.”. Hank was obviously on to you. Ever since you left Detroit you have made a name for yourself and he knew that. If you did not want to come back to Detroit you didn’t have to but you wanted to.
“I wanted to make sure you were ok. I know I left when you weren't in the best of places but I honestly had no choice in that.I had some people around town and the station keep tabs on you for me,hope you don't mind.” You said with a smugness to your voice. You grabbed Hank’s beer and took a swig before handing it back to him.
“Even if I did you would’ve done it anyway. Look I appreciate you coming by but can we have this reunion another time, I'm tired.” Hank commented ,standing up from his chair.
“Yeah sure. Tomorrow at Chicken Feed 2 pm?”
“Sure kid. Connor walk her out make sure she doesn’t get mugged or something.Come on Sumo.” Hank commanded his precious dog. Sumo barked as if responding to him and followed,but not before giving your hand one last lick of his tongue.
“ I can handle myself Hank!” You shouted jokingly in his direction since he actually got pretty far in the short time.
“ I know.” Hank responded before shutting his door with a slight thud.
You look over to Connor who had barely moved since you arrived to the house. The only movement he implemented was turning around to face you and Hank once you passed him.You observed the android trying to take in everything about his appearance. You had never seen an an android of his model before besides from tv, and you knew why. Without another word you began to walk towards the door knowing the android would follow.
“How do you know Lieutenant Anderson?“ Connor questioned as you both walked outside of the door and into the cold harsh wind of Detroit. Connor knew he could have scanned you ever since you ‘broke’ into Hank’s house but he strangely wanted to hear your story from you and not a computer database. He wanted to hear your voice even more than he already had.
“He hasn't mentioned me ? I'm a little hurt.” You mentioned jokingly, however Connor did not seem to register your tone so you continued to speak.
“I was his trainee a while back. He taught me everything I know. Once I became an official officer they relocated me out of Detroit since other cities were low on cops. I didn't really have a say in the matter since I was new to the force. When I left it was hard for Hank since he was going through some things at the time.”. With your words the mood obviously changed to a more somber one, which Connor was undoubtedly aware of.
“I presume you are referring to the death of his son Cole.”
“You would be correct. He passed 3 months before they moved me. I was the one thing keeping Hank semi stable in a way. I know his pain to a slight extent since I was close to Cole. I used to babysit him whenever I could. He was a good kid.” You spoke with sadness in your voice and upon your face, something Connor took notice of. Your sadness took a hold of Connor’s own emotions and in turn made him saddened as well.
“ So I have heard. I am sorry for your lost.” Connor stated trying to make an effort to comfort you.His actions made you smile in return to show you appreciation.
“Thanks. So what's your story?” You asked, wanting to to change the subject to something more light hearted.
“ What do you mean ?” He wondered, no one really took an interest in him or his story. He was honestly surprised by your question but also happy that you were taking an interest in him.
“ I saw you on TV with that Markus guy, your leader. However, I also know you are an advanced prototype that was sent by CyberLife to help humans like Hank in investigating cases involving deviant androids.”.Connor was astounded by the knowledge you knew about him. It wasn’t hard information to come by but given that he had heard nothing about you and yet you seemed to know almost everything about him.
“How did you...”. Connor began to question but you cut him off.
“I told you I had eyes and ears everywhere. What I really want to know is how such an astute android like you can become deviant, and even help lead a revolution.”
“I was created to complete a mission and I intended to do whatever meant necessary for those missions,but something changed in me. I suddenly began to have these feelings that I knew nothing about. I started to have empathy for those androids who were forced into hiding or worse.I experienced first hand what it felt like to die when an android killed himself during one of Hank’s and I mission. I was scared. It was something I never experienced yet I knew this was how deviants felt everyday and I didn’t want that for my fellow androids. I decided to join them because I didn’t want us to have to live in fear any longer.” Connor said, finishing his monologue and answering all of your questions in the process.
“Fascinating. I’m sorry you had to go through that but it brought you here, which doesn’t seem to bad to me. Well I look forward to working with you.” You mentioned smiling to Connor, once again trying to lighten the mood.
“Working with me ?” Connor questioned. He knew you said the department called you back to Detroit but he didn’t know you two would be working directly together.
“Yes sir. You're looking at Detroit's newest red ice detective. Since a new wave of it has hit the area they’re putting Hank back on the case along with myself. You guys are getting the briefing tomorrow.” You explained as you both finally reached your car. You had parked it good distance away since you didn’t want it to draw attention during your ‘break in’ .
“Well then I look forward to working with you as well.” Connor said with genuine happiness in his voice.
“I was hoping you'd say that.” You admitted finally getting into your car with a wink and driving off, leaving Connor with a smile beyond belief on his face.
A/N : Thank you all for reading! I absolutely love Connor and his adorableness so I loved writing this imagine.Please feel free to leave me some feedback on how you think I did! :)
#detroit beome human#dbh#dbh connor#detroit become human connor#connor rk800#gender neutral reader#connor x reader#dbh imagine#connor imagine#connor#detroit become human imagine#detroit become human x reader#dbh connnor x reader
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Second in Command (Ch. 12)
Summary: Life as the "spare to the heir" isn't all that it's cracked up to be when you're the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don't know what really happens behind closed doors.
Rating: Mature
The entire story available on ao3 | HERE |
A/N: I like to think that this chapter has it all. Romance, drama, witty banter, Christmas-themed celebrations...murder. Just kidding, there’s absolutely no murder. I haven’t quite branched out into the crime-solving branch of story-writing yet :D So enjoy a Christmas in October. I hear it’s even better than Christmas in July and that more words than usual are involved.
PS: This is now over 100,000 words, and I don’t know how that happened. Part of me wants to do something special like write a long part from Emma’s POV or ask for prompts from you guys, whether they be for different things you want more detail on in this story or maybe just general prompts for anything. I don’t know when I’d even get around to them, but I think I may still like to try. I don’t know. Let me know if that’s something you guys want :D
Tag list: @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @profdanglaisstuff @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat
Killian hates flying. It’s not that he’s nervous about being suspended thirty thousand feet in the air with mountain ranges or deserts or entire fucking oceans beneath him. If he thinks about it too much, that does cause him a wee bit of concern, but he mostly hates flying because more often than not if he’s flying somewhere, he’s going to be away from home for long periods at a time. He’s thankful and appreciative of the fact that his life affords him the luxury of not just seeing the photogenic parts of the world, but also the parts that are struggling to survive. It allows him different perspectives, and he’s nothing if not someone who is willing to broaden his horizons. It’s just that those horizons take him away from home, from Emma, and there’s no place like home, especially now.
There’s also the fact that he’s on a plane for over ten hours right now, and while he’s not stuck in economy with cramped legs and a snoring neighbor who doesn’t know what deodorant is, he’s ready for his feet to touch the dirt, solid and firm.
He spends his time reviewing his itinerary for his next few weeks and brushing up on the wildlife preservation efforts. He’s done a few of these trips before, but it’s mostly Liam who has handled them. He’s happy to do it, though, so that Liam can spend time with his family and his newborn daughter. Killian cannot imagine ever having to leave a child of his own for over two weeks, let alone one he’s just now been able to meet like Liam has with Elizabeth. He knows that it’ll happen one day, though. He’ll have to be the dad whose children learn to kiss computer and phone screens while he’s away from them on these kinds of trips. They’ll tone down for him once he has an official family of his own, but they won’t stop until his hair looks more like salt and pepper than inky black.
His text chime goes off from his phone’s place on his table, and while he expects it to be Emma telling him something she forgot to mention before he left, it’s his mother.
Allison: I realize that you’ve just gotten on a plane, but the jewelers have finished Emma’s ring. They need your approval before it’s completely set.
Well, shit.
Would it be too much to turn this plane around?
Killian: Will you go look at it for me? I’ll check on it as soon as I get home.
Five hours later his mother texts him again, just as the plane is making its descent, touching ground in Africa while his mind is in England.
Allison: It’s beautiful, my boy.
His week seems to pass by slowly and all at once. He spends his days waking up early to go on expeditions, astounded by the beauty of the wildlife reserve as miles of open land extend beyond him with the sun rising and coating the grounds with an orange glow every morning before the crackling heat takes over. On the days he doesn’t spend observing nature, he works with the people who try to preserve this land and these animals every day. It’s work that he could never do, but if he can support them in their endeavors and bring light to both the struggles and the successes of their organizations, it would be a win for everyone. Sometimes he feels like he’s simply a poster boy, and while that can be true, his name and his face help people by merely being there and showing his support.
One day, though, he’s lucky enough to visit an underfunded school where the Royal Foundation is providing new supplies for both the staff and the children. He’s thrilled that he can help out, but he’s also been told that these children have a particular fondness for football even with their total of two outdated, deflated balls. So he arranges with his aides to get new balls and jerseys for the children. It’s the least he can do, and the way the children squeal when he brings the mesh bag full of balls around causes him to throw his head back in laughter.
He’s dressed casually enough in his slacks and loose button down, so when they ask him if he’d be willing to play with them, he can’t help but comply.
“How old are you, Prince Killian?”
“Twenty nine.”
“You’re out of breath like you’re much older.”
He’ll have to make sure to tell Emma about that when he finally gets to call her later.
And when he catches his breath.
He and Emma have either been totally missing each other on their nightly calls, or he’s been falling asleep either before a call starts or in the middle of it. Thank the heavens for texting, but reading words on a screen don’t bring quite the same sense of comfort that actually being able to hear her voice does, let alone seeing her face, even if it’s just through their computer screens. Maybe he’s already a bit like the man whose loved ones have to kiss him through a screen.
He runs late that day, keeping to how this week has been going, getting caught up talking to some of the teachers at the school before he has another engagement that night, and by the time the car pulls up to the house he’s staying in he’s practically sprinting inside and running to his room so that he can get to his laptop, quickly opening it and dialing Emma twice before her face finally showed up on the screen.
“Hi,” Emma greets, waving her hand at him like she’s not sure what to do with her hands, and oh is he so glad to see her.
“Hello, beautiful. How was your day?”
“Oh good,” she laughs, tucking that loose strand of hair behind her ear. “My dad apparently threw out his back, though I do think he’s being a bit dramatic, so I spent the day restocking the shelves and doing inventory at the pub before we open since Will has the next two days off. So that would explain,” she picks up her computer and moves it around to show him where she is, “why I’m sitting in my very empty old room with sheets that have clouds on them.”
“So you’re staying with your parents tonight?”
“Tonight, maybe the next few days.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping at home?”
“My bed here is much more comfortable than our couch. Plus, you know, people who talk about more than if a baby is eating enough.”
“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
She simply stares at him, her lips in a straight line as she quirks her eyebrow. Oh, she’s not sleeping in their bed because he’s not there. That’s…love. Maybe a little bit crazy, too. But what is love without a little crazy? That’s love to not want to sleep in their bed when he’s not there when it has to be infinitely more comfortable to sleep in a bed alone than with him.
Though he will wake up in the middle of the night here, eyes flashing open as he worries that he’s rolled a bit too far to the right and on top of Emma only to realize she’s not there and his body is only meeting more mattress.
“I love you, Emma. More than anything.”
“I love you, too. Infinitely or whatever since you stole the ‘more than anything’ line.”
He chuckles at the indignant look on her face. She’s never been one to verbally express her love as explicitly as he does, but even if her words aren’t as eloquent or as often, he still knows that she means them. “Now tell me about your day.”
“So I began the day looking at a herd of elephants and in the middle there was this lad who called me both old and out of shape.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, we were playing a bit of football, and I guess I lost my breath. They all got a kick out of it. Pun intended.”
They talk for a bit longer, but before he manages to wish her a goodnight, she’s fallen asleep sitting straight up against the headboard of her old bed, her head drooping forward to rest against her chest.
“Ten more days, my love.”
He caresses her face through the screen, his fingerprints marking up the laptop, before shutting the device and shutting away Emma.
By the time his two and a half weeks are over, he’s exhausted, the long days and physical treks having him be completely knackered on his plane ride to London as well as in the car back to his actual, physical home in Kensington. He’d meant to have a look at Emma’s ring, give it the final approval, but he simply couldn’t force himself to go anywhere other than home. He cannot wait to see Emma, and he knows from their sporadic talks that she’s had a difficult few days without him. But he’s home now, just feet away from her, and that’s the only thing that really keeps him from falling out as he walks through their front door.
“Emma,” he calls as he steps into the apartment, the one bag he managed to bring from the car trailing behind him until he drops it against the hardwood. “Darling, are you here?”
He’s checked both the living room and kitchen, walking through the dining room and sitting area as he goes, and there’s no sign of Emma anywhere, just boxes of Christmas decorations they need to put up. He knows she should be home. He texted her as soon as he landed, and she said she was.
It’s then that he sees her bounding down the stairs at breakneck speed and before he knows it her arms are wrapped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist as she peppers kisses everywhere she can reach. It’s bloody wonderful, and he can’t help but nuzzle his face into her hair and breathe her in.
He’s missed her.
Bloody hell, he’s missed her.
“Hello, love,” he laughs after she’s cupped his face and planted a smacking kiss on his lips, his arms now completely supporting her weight under her thighs. “Did you miss me?”
“Not at all,” she jests as he walks them to the kitchen, setting her down on the countertop so that he can stand between her legs and give her a proper kiss, his tongue edging into her mouth and tasting the peppermint he smelled on her breath a moment ago.
“I missed you like crazy, my love,” he sighs against her lips while he runs his hands up and down her biceps over the softness of her sweater until his hands find the exposed skin at her stomach and he trails his hands under the material until he’s brushing the sides of her breasts through her bra.
She cups his face again, running her thumbs underneath his eyes. “You look tired.”
“I’m not that tired,” he protests, running his thumbs over the flat of her stomach while his other fingers work at her back.
“Killian.”
“I’m bloody exhausted.”
“You should go to bed, at least a short nap.”
“I’d really rather take you to bed.”
He begins kissing at her neck, mapping her skin with his tongue in the way he hasn’t been able to do in over half a month, until she pushes at his shoulders and he rests his forehead against her collarbone.
“Later. After you sleep.”
When Killian wakes up from what turns out to be a much more rejuvenating nap than he was aware he needed, he and Emma finally begin decorating the apartment for Christmas. They’d gotten everything out of storage before he’d left, but the only thing up was the tree, which was still bare of all lights and ornaments. Emma’s got a Christmas playlist playing on speakers throughout the apartment, and she most definitely spiked his hot chocolate with rum, not that he’s complaining.
Growing up, his family would never personally decorate a Christmas tree because their staff would always do it for them to make sure the trees were decorated the same every year, and then the children would add a few ornaments at the end. It wasn’t until Emma that he began decorating on his own, and it wasn’t until his third Christmas with Emma and the Nolans that he got to celebrate in the way that most people do, having been unable to be with her for the first few.
They’re decorating the Christmas tree that’s currently situated where his favorite couch in the Nolan’s apartment usually resides. Actually, no. They’re trying to decorate the Christmas tree, but the lights are tangled and every time he manages to get one string undone, Emma’s handing him another thread of colorful lights that are twisted into knots that shouldn’t even be physically possible. What the hell happened in these boxes over the past year? Did the lights come alive?
“So you’re telling me that you’ve never gone to a Christmas tree farm?”
“When would I get the opportunity to go to a Christmas tree farm? I have to go through secret maneuvers just to get here, inside a private apartment, just to see you, love.”
“I don’t know?” She shrugs, taking the current string he’s working on out of his hands and messing with it because apparently he’s taking too long to untangle it. “Sometime in the dark of the night with prosthetics on your face and a blonde wig?”
“Well that’s an image of myself I never wanted.”
“What? You don’t like blondes? There are a lot of us out there.”
“Don’t I know it?”
“Hey,” Emma protests, tossing a plastic candy cane in his direction, “there better only be the one blonde in your life.”
“Aye,” Killian acknowledges before standing from his spot on the floor and pulling Emma toward him so that their bodies are pressed together and her arms are around his neck, her hands playing with the tips of his hair. He just got it cut, and whenever he does that Emma’s hands always manage to find their way into it to test out the new length. “You’re my favorite blonde, darling.”
“And don’t you forget it,” she laughs before capturing his lips with hers, a leisurely sway of lips turning into a passionate dance of tongues, and before he knows it he’s got Emma pressed against the remaining couch while his body covers hers.
Her hands have just reached into the back of his jean’s pockets, squeezing his ass and aligning their hips better together, Killian rolling his to get some friction for his growing hardness, when both of Emma’s parents walk in the room.
“Hey, do you two want to…what are you doing?”
“Good heavens, Mary Margaret. You have eyes. You know what they’re doing.”
All Killian knows is that he wants to melt into this couch right now and take Emma with him. He hasn’t moved off of her yet, and she’s most definitely using his body as a shield from her parents. Oh shit, her hands are still grabbing his ass.
“Right,” Mary Margaret stutters, and he can see the flush against the white of her cheeks, “we’re just going to go back to our room now. We forgot some decorations, didn’t we, David?”
He’s not quite as mortified as Emma is, though he is a tad bit embarrassed that her parents just caught them dry humping on the couch. He’s a twenty-six year old man, and his girlfriend’s parents should never even really have the option of knowing about his sex life. Of course, her parents’ room is right across the hall from Emma’s, and they’ve probably heard a lot worse than what they’ve just seen…not that he would ever dare point that out of Emma. He might be out of both a girlfriend and sex all in one sentence.
“I really need my own place,” Emma mumbles as he pulls away from her so that he can look down at her. He was right. She’s gone red as Christmas.
“I’d probably help if you had taken your hands off my ass at some point.”
“You’re being an ass.”
“I’m simply stating the obvious.” He pops his hips up to point out the fact that she’s still very much feeling him up, and she finally gets the hint, removing her hands so that he can climb off of her to try to go back to decorating and to get his still tight jeans situation under control.
David and Mary Margaret eventually come back out into their living room after texting Emma to make sure that the room was safe of all plundering, and the four of them finish decorating the tree. Most of their ornaments are homemade, things that Emma made for them in primary school. He finds several that are pictures of young Emma in what seems to be a snow globe made of colored construction paper, and he wishes that they had things like that in his home. He’d of course made crafts in primary school, and while the occasional few would go on display around the house, it was never in the way that the Nolans keep all of Emma’s work. Mary Margaret basically kept them in as pristine of condition as she could, and even if Emma is embarrassed by having some of the items on display, he is simply glad to know that Emma’s always been loved.
None of them are working in the pub that night, Emma only sneaking down to get a bottle of whiskey clad in her pajamas, when her parents begin telling him stories of Emma as a teenager. Even if he’s heard them all before, he still takes delight in how embarrassed Emma becomes over them, her cheeks flushed with both the alcohol and the desire to never hear about when she was a cheerleader for two weeks before quitting the team.
“Do you still have that uniform, love?”
“Yeah, you interested in seeing if it’ll fit you?”
That night he watches as the Nolans lounge about in their living room, Emma’s hair messy and un-brushed as she lies with her head in his lap, and not a one of them caring how they look or if they meet the right dress code and eat their food the right way. Not every one of his family’s Christmas traditions are stiff. Some are quite fun if he’s honest with himself, but they would never dare to lounge in front of the television in their mismatched pajamas, drinking whiskey out of coffee cups and Chinese food out of the cartons. Instead they sit in a great hall watching a movie on a projector, drinks served in fine stemware.
David and Mary Margaret fall asleep around eleven, snoring on the couch in a position that he knows will hurt them if they stay that way all night.
“Put your coat and shoes on, Killian.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
He does as Emma says while she stuffs her feet in her boots, throwing on her insulted jacket and a beanie before walking down the hallway and turning into her parents’ room, unlocking the window before climbing up the escape ladder. It’s freezing outside, a slight bit of snow falling, and he has no idea what could possibly drive her to want to go up to the roof. But he’s not going to stay inside and never find out.
“Emma, what the hell are we doing up here? Are you going to freeze me to death?”
“No,” she deadpans bending down and picking up an outlet and an extension cord, “we have a heater and the rest of that bottle of whiskey.” She finishes making sure that the electric heater is working before walking over to him looking more like a human snowman than Emma, and grabbing his hand to lead him to the edge of the roof. “Look,” she points to the road below, “you can see all of the other people who have decorated from up here.”
She’s right because when he looks down onto the cobblestone street he can see that different businesses and homes have lights brightening up the place more than the usual streetlamps, and if he looks carefully he can see Christmas trees inside the upper floors of the buildings where most of the business owners reside, some of the lights flickering off the later in the night that it gets as the light snow continues to fall, painting the rooftops in a faint dusting of white.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Aye.”
“It’s one of my favorite things about moving to London.” He nudges her shoulder. “I mean, besides you. At home we’d go on car rides around the town, looking at the neighborhoods and downtown just to see what decorations people came up with that year.” She sighs before she moves to stand in front of him, his arms over her shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of her hat and she reaches up to rest her hands over his. “Mom would make to-go cups of hot chocolate.”
“With cinnamon?”
“Sometimes with peppermint. And we’d drive and drive until I’d seen every house in the town at least once before Christmas. There was this one…oh my God, Killian. It was amazing. It was like something out of a movie, the way the lights were strung around the trees leading up to the house and these giant wreaths that are bigger than me.”
“That sounds wonderful, darling. Like a real winter wonderland.”
“Yeah,” she exhales, leaning back into him even more, “I miss being able to do that since at least one of us is working most nights, so I like to come up here and watch the neighbors…which sounds creepy now that I say it out loud.”
He laughs before kissing the material of her hat even if she can’t feel his lips.
“Thank you for sharing and for showing me this. One day I’d like to drive around to look at all of the Christmas lights. With you, if that’s okay.”
“If you bring me hot chocolate with either cinnamon or peppermint, I’m yours, babe.”
“I’ll bring both.”
Between Emma and Killian, they get most of the apartment decorated, the usual shades of gray and blue now replaced with reds, greens, and golds. It’s festive in the way that it should be for those who celebrate Christmas, and as much as he hates that Emma waited on him for weeks to decorate, he’s glad that they’ve gotten it done now and done it together.
Six years together, and it’s their first actual Christmas together. No celebrating a few weeks early or days into January. This is Christmas, completely together.
He’s still bloody exhausted, however, and so he goes to bed earlier than expected that night and doesn’t feel the bed dip until a few hours later when Emma joins him, backing up so that her back is nestled against his front. She reaches back to pull his arm around her stomach, but he’s already there, wrapping himself around her and pulling her closer as he kisses the back of her neck.
“That wasn’t even the longest we’ve been apart, and it felt like forever. Like it was never going to end.”
“I know, darling. I know, but it’s over now.”
He crawls out of bed early the next morning, just before the sun rises, and texts his mum to see if she wants to go with him while he gives the final clearance on Emma’s ring design before it’s fully set in the band. Emma’s still as asleep as she can be, stretching out on the mattress when he moves off of it, and he needs to pick up the ring while he has the opportunity to do so before all of the holiday festivities begin.
It’s beautiful, stunning really, and while he’s never been one to wear much jewelry himself, he’s been raised in a world where his family is in possession of some of the most stunning jewels in the world. This is one of them, and he’s almost giddy with excitement over the thought of it adorning Emma’s finger one day soon.
He doesn’t know where he’ll hide it in the apartment, wary of Emma stumbling across it in her search for one of the items she always seems to be losing, so when his mother offers to keep it with her at home, he doesn’t hesitate to agree to that, handing her the velvet box with his most prized possession inside and giving his mother a kiss on the cheek as they part ways and make their way to their respective homes to prepare for the Christmas gala tonight.
Emma’s still asleep when he gets home, and he lets out a sigh of relief knowing that he won’t have to explain his absence from her. Instead he strips from his clothes and into the shower, trying to get as ready for this evening as he can so Emma and the stylists she’s bringing in can have the bathroom for the rest of the day without his interruptions. She’d protested having someone doing her hair and makeup, but it’s going to become as much of a part of her life as any other weird aspect that comes to being with him. She’s going to have a love/hate relationship with having a stylist. He already knows.
“Good morning,” she yawns when he walks out of the bathroom to see her piling her hair on top of her head, an errant strand sticking to her forehead and the sheets pooling around her waist. “You’re up early.”
“Darling, it’s nearing ten in the morning, and we’ve got a big day today. People, your mum and Ruby included, are coming over in a few hours.”
“I don’t want to get up.”
“You have to,” he leans down to kiss her good morning, lingering against her skin before walking downstairs and getting on with his day while Emma most likely goes back to sleep.
He spends most of his day downstairs, just passing the time by watching the television or last minute Christmas shopping online while Emma and the girls get ready, everyone arriving a little after two. His family doesn’t give each other much, but they do give a little so he needs to finish up on a few items as well as checking that the rest of Emma gifts will arrive on time for their own private celebration in between his family’s celebrations.
Mary Margaret and Ruby come down the stairs, fully decked out in their dresses, hair and makeup done as they settle beside him in the living room, so he knows that Emma must have offered to go last.
“You look beautiful, ladies,” he compliments, taking both of their hands and kissing their knuckles before he makes his own way upstairs to get dressed for the evening. He can’t very well sit around as a slacker all day, now can he?
Emma’s makeup and hair stylists are packing up their bags and their tools when he enters the bathroom, nodding at them before opening the closet door only to have Emma standing there with her hair trailing down her back in loose curls and nothing but lacy black underwear on. His breath catches at the sight before he closes the closet door behind him so that no one out there is privy to this sight besides him.
“You’re not supposed to be in here yet,” Emma protests as he comes to stand before her, one hand running down her side and landing at her hip while the other lightly caresses her face, careful not to mess with her makeup or her hair.
“You look so stunning, my darling Emma,” he breathes, voice deeper, huskier than he intended as he looks into the emerald of her eyes before his gaze flickers down to her bare breasts, her nipples slowly hardening into peaks.
“You only say that because I’m basically naked,” she laughs as her own hands run up his back to rest at his shoulder blades, her breasts pressing into his chest. “But thank you. I cannot wait to see you in your tux.”
“Can I convince you to take me out of my clothes before I put the different ones on?”
She laughs as he backs her up to the island counter in the middle of the closet, hoisting her up by the waist and placing her on the cool marble while he’s busy nuzzling his neck against hers, kissing the skin at her pulse point while his hands trail up at the insides of her thighs, feeling the soft skin over her twitching muscles.
“Baby,” she groans, tilting her head to the side so that her hair falls to her back and he has more access to her neck. It’s almost swan-like in its length when she does this, and he runs his tongue along the straining cords there, the scent of her perfume enthralling him. “Baby, we can’t. I’ve already got my hair and makeup done.”
“I won’t touch your face or your hair.”
“Well it’s no fun that way.”
A chuckle passes through his lips and his hands move from her thighs, painstakingly slowly up her sides while he listens to her breathing deepen, hitching when his thumbs run over both of her nipples in a gentle caress.
“Oh,” she gasps when he pinches her, and the sound goes straight through him just like the blush now gracing her chest. She’s watching his every movement, every inch that his hand moves or every path that his tongue traces until his lips are ghosting against hers. She chases after his lips after he lingers there for too long, but he jerks up to kiss her nose in that moment. “You’re so annoying,” she laughs before she reaches up and runs her hands through his hair, the feeling of her nails scratching at his scalp causing him to gasp as well.
“You still love me though.”
“Always.”
He dips his head to kiss her for real before running his lips down the concave between her breasts before reaching her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button so that she has to brace herself on her hands behind her, a folded sweater falling to the floor. When his lips reach the lace, he looks up to see her nod before pulling her forward on the countertop so that her ass is on the edge while he hooks his fingers into the lace to pull them off her legs.
He takes his time, even if they really don’t have any, kissing up the inside of both of her thighs before kissing her mound, building her up as quickly as he can, her whimpers just urging him on while he teases at her, licking long, flat stripes through her folds and circling her bundle of nerves until her whimpers cease and her back arches, her release hitting her while he eases her through it.
“That’s not what I was expecting today,” she sighs as she pulls him up to kiss him, her lips rough as she molds their faces together, her makeup obviously be damned, “but I’m glad even if I am going to be slightly sweaty.”
“I think they call that glowing.”
She laughs against him, pushing at his shoulders until he gets the hint and backs up, helping her off the counter with her legs still slightly shaky.
“This was both a brilliant and horrible idea because,” she shuffles through a draw before slipping into a different set of lingerie while going to unzip the garment bag with her dress, the black material catching the light, “while it was amazing for me, we are officially out of time. And I know for a fact that your tux pants are tight, so you’ve got to get rid of your problem, babe.”
His chuckle is mixed with a groan as he turns around from her to take his tux in the bedroom and get dressed while he calms himself down. She was right. It was both a brilliant idea and a horrible idea, but he doesn’t regret it in the slightest as he gets dressed. He’s got everything on but his bow tie as it hangs loosely around his neck, white shirt unbuttoned at the top, when Emma comes out of the bathroom in a sinful black dress that hugs her top before billowing out at the waist, yards of tulle covering the slit that goes to her mid-thigh. She’s added that red lipstick she loves as well as some of the jewelry he’s given her over the years.
“You look beautiful, Emma,” he compliments as she sits down on the bed to slip on her heels, buckling the straps as she smiles over at him.
“Thank you.” She rises to come stand before him, her palms running up his chest until they land at his undone bow tie. She ties it for him, continuously having to restart because she’s never quite satisfied with how it looks until she finally gets it right, harrumphing in light of her success. “You look handsome. Very dapper and dashing and one hundred percent like you should dress like this more often.”
“Yes, black tie around the house all of the time,” he chuckles before taking her hand and guiding her downstairs, the slight train of her dress trailing on the hardwood enough that he scoops down to hold it for her.
He and Emma, along with Ruby and Mary Margaret load into a car and make their way to Buckingham with David meeting them there. He has to enter separately from Emma, so he leaves her be to go and join his parents and his brother, Abigail not attending as a part of her maternity leave, so that the four of them can wait in a sitting room until all of the guests have arrived and they can make their entrance. He’s always found this to be a weird tradition, entering a room at official events through order of succession so that his father enters last, but some traditions do not fall to the side, and this is one of them.
Once they enter the ballroom, he makes his rounds through all of the people he’s obligated to speak to, government officials, foreign diplomats, the occasional celebrity who he is much more excited to see than the third cousin of the Prime Minister. Killian catches up with a few of his old university friends whose families were invited before he sees a flash of blonde hair in his peripheral only to have her come up to him and wrap her arms around his elbow as Robin regales the group with a story of Killian singing karaoke at a pub one drunken night.
“Please tell me there’s a video of that,” Emma laughs, looking up at him, the black of her eyelashes highlighting the green of her eyes. She’s so beautiful that sometimes he cannot believe it, cannot believe that he gets to spend his days with her by his side.
“Sadly it was before the time of everyone having an iPhone in their palms. I’m Robin,” he sticks his hand out to take Emma’s, “you must be the literal famous Emma Nolan.”
“And you must be the famous through Killian’s stories, Robin Locksley.”
Robin laughs at the two of them as Emma fishes for stories of Killian in his younger days before Killian eventually leads Emma to the dance floor as the music slows and the sounds of soft piano fills the room.
“Are we going to just sway or am I going to embarrass myself by having to do a waltz or foxtrot or something where I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“We’re simply going to sway, darling,” he answers as he pulls her into him and rests his hands around her waist. “But if we were to do one of those other dances, there’s only one rule.”
“What?”
“You pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”
“And that’s you?”
“That’s me.”
She laughs before resting her cheek on his shoulder, her hands resting at his lower back, and this is a wonderful night. Magical almost under the glistening lights of the towering Christmas trees and chandeliers tinted in silver lights that coat the room.
When the song finishes, he leads her off the dance floor, finding an empty section off to the side so that he can speak without having to raise his voice.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Oh my goodness yes. I’ll meet you at the bar after I run to the restroom, okay?”
She gives him a sweet kiss before they part ways.
“Two glasses of whatever wine you’re serving,” he tells the bartender before resting his back against the counter, watching as people mill around the room, some dancing, others eating, all talking.
“Having a good time tonight?”
He turns to see his father’s younger brother Albert standing at the bar to his right, nursing what looks to be a glass of whiskey. He didn’t even know they were serving whiskey tonight.
“Aye, it’s a wonderful time. Everything is beautiful this year. Mum did a great job.”
Albert laughs before putting his glass on the bar top and turning so that he’s completely facing Killian. His uncle has never resembled his father too much, hair too light and eyes too dark, and even if Albert also grew up as the so-called other spare to the heir, Killian has never found comfort in speaking to him.
“You know, Killian,” Albert drawls, “when you brought these people around for your birthday, I thought it was just a phase. And then you released that statement, and I was sure that you’d lost your mind.”
“Uncle, you’ve had too much to drink tonight.”
“Just the one glass. I’m perfectly sober. Your father, my brother, must be always inebriated though. He’s gone soft, letting you bring your flings to these events. And how rude of you to take the street trash to the hospital for Elizabeth’s birth. Weren’t you taught anything by those tutors and excellent schools you received while my children got your table scraps?”
“What is your fucking problem?”
“What is yours? We are a monarchy. We do not associate with the common whores like you have been.”
Killian’s jaw ticks as he tries to regulate his breathing, regulate his anger. All he wants to do is break Albert’s bloody nose, but he cannot do that. They are in a room full of people, photographers and journalists included, and it would be unwise to assault his uncle no matter how satisfying it would be or how much he deserves it.
He really fucking deserves it.
“Oh yes,” Emma spits, and shit, when did she get here? “I am a common whore, using my vagina and womanly wiles to seduce the prince so that I can have his money and his power. Because isn’t that what I’ve always been, a lying American criminal?”
“Emma,” Killian warns, grabbing onto her hand before she snatches it away from him.
Albert doesn’t say anything else, his heavy breathing increasing as his dark eyes stare into Emma like she’s an antelope and he’s the lion.
“Lass, you don’t belong here. I’d suggest you remember where you come from.”
“The only people who don’t belong here are the assholes who think they’re better than someone just because their parents happen to be royalty.”
“That by its very definition makes me better, makes Killian better, than you.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’d like to do that, wouldn’t you, Ms. Nolan?”
Killian’s not sure if he or Emma are going to punch Albert first, but when he sees Emma’s hand flinch at her side, he reaches to squeeze her side as a silent encouragement not to do anything, relieved that she doesn’t snatch it away from him again. Neither of them get the chance because suddenly Liam is in between the two of them and Albert with his main security detail behind him.
“Albert,” Liam sterns, his eyes cloudy with irritation. “Get the hell out of here. You’re not welcome if you say things like that, you sod.”
“I was here before the two of you were ever born, and all you’ve done is shame this family, especially your spare. I would have never been this disgraceful.”
“You’re being infinitely more disgraceful than Killian has ever been, you prick.”
Albert is discreetly guided away, and Killian thanks Liam, wanting to discuss what the hell just happened, but he can practically feel Emma fuming beside him, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tries to calm herself down while he does the same.
“Killian,” she grits, not bothering to look at him, “I would suggest that you take me to your room here right now before I do something else that I’m not supposed to do.”
He guides her out of the ballroom, through hallways and corridors until they reach the private part of the palace. When they get to the grand staircase that leads upstairs to his room, Emma stops to take off her heels, using him as a base to steady herself as she shrinks four inches right in front of him before picking up the bottom of her dress and walking up the stairs like she has any idea where she’s going while he watches her, frozen in his spot as his mind runs wild.
“Love,” he calls out while trying to track her down, taking two steps at a time and then jogging as she completely passes the door to his room. “Emma, hey. Emma.”
“What?” she whips around, her hands running through her perfectly coiffed hair before she slaps her hands against her thighs and starts pacing again. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”
“I’m sorry. I want to say I’m sorry.”
“What the hell are you sorry for?”
“Um, maybe my asshole of an uncle and the former assholes that were my father and brother. And then maybe just all of the collective assholes all over the world that are full of shit and apparently feel the need to pass that shit onto you.”
She stops her pacing when she gets directly in front of him, her head directly under his chin as she looks up at him with much more kindness than she should be capable of expressing.
“First of all, don’t say sorry again. I don’t want to hear it.”
“But Emma – ”
“No,” she raises her hand, “stop. I am fucking livid right now, but in no way am I livid at you or with you or the fact that I’m only in this situation because I’m with you. I’m pissed that someone thinks they have any right to not only insult me like that, but to also have the gall to insult you. I mean, damn. Does the list of assholes never end?”
“I think we produce them in bulk.”
A bitter chuckle passes through her lips before she wraps her arms around his waist and deflates, the anger rushing out of her and simmering down to irritation that could still pack a punch if she wanted it to. He does the same, embracing her before he nuzzles his head against the top of her hair and simply holds her in the middle of an ornate hallway in a ball gown and a tuxedo looking every bit like the magical fairytale couple they claim not to be.
Magic comes with a price in the same way that privilege does and running away from balls to stand shoeless in a hallway may very well be one payment in a line of many.
“I just can’t believe our night has turned out like this. This was supposed to be a good night. We get dressed up, dance for more than one song, I get to take that suit off of you to celebrate you coming home, and now we’re hiding away so that we don’t cause a scene after being basically stepped on and then spit upon.”
“I know,” he exhales into her hair, tugging her closer to his chest and pressing his fingers into the small of her back. Trying to bring back some of the light to the evening because he won’t let this night be ruined, he changes the subject. “Do you want to see my childhood room?”
“You have no idea.”
He guides her back down the hallway until they come to his door, and the smile on her face is more genuine than any that he’s seen since the incident at the bar. He’s going to have to deal with that later, with Albert and any underlying hostility with Emma that still runs in the family. He doesn’t expect everyone to accept her with open arms. He doesn’t even expect them to accept him with open arms. But as long as the ones who matter, his immediate family who he wants to accept Emma and to love her, he couldn’t give a fuck what the others think…as long as they don’t think it out loud in front of Emma again.
Not in front of him again either. He’s having to contain his fury right now in an attempt to salvage this night.
“These books all seem very prim and proper and not at all you,” Emma quips as she runs her fingers along the spines, stopping every now and then to look at a picture frame or trinket that adorns the shelves along with the books.
“I’ve got a different collection underneath the bed, but check the Anna Karenina.”
She does, only to find the cutout with the flask inside. When she pops it open, her lips tug downward, and she was obviously hoping for there to still be something in there. They never did get their drinks earlier.
“This is much more you,” she laughs, holding it up before putting it back in the book with the utmost care. She pauses, obviously running over something in her mind. “Do we need to go back to the gala? People will notice that you’re gone.”
“I don’t care.”
“What if I said that I wanted another dance?”
“Well,” he begins before making his way over to the closet, shuffling through a cabinet before finding an actual, literal cd player, “we could always dance to this.”
“No,” she giggles, and at least she’s still capable of having a good time, “there’s no way that’ll work.”
“Only one way to find out.”
He plugs in the player in an outlet on the wall before sounds of, and he’s only slightly mortified by this, the Spice Girls comes through the shoddy speakers.
“May I have this dance, milady?”
She laughs before nodding her head and placing her hands in his. He moves her from side to side, spinning her around in silly circles that he’d never be able to do downstairs. She laughs the entire time, her chest visibly moving, and he does the same. This night could have turned into an undeniable shit show, and while he’s sure that shit show hasn’t reached its conclusion, he hopes it has for now.
He just doesn’t want Emma to be upset, even if she has every right to walk around this place kicking and screaming.
When they make it back downstairs some of the crowd has filtered out, and the only people who really seemed to notice their absence were their families.
“Did you guys really leave a party this fancy to go do it in a coat closet or something?”
“Rubes,” Emma laughs, glancing over to see that her parents aren’t paying any attention to this conversation. “What have we said about those kind of comments?”
“Sex is a very healthy part of life, my darling Emma Nolan. And you two are so hot that anybody who believes you’re not sharing a bed has lost their mind.”
“Well, of course, I am a common whore after all.”
“Hey,” Killian grabs her arms and holds her so that he’s sure she’s looking at him, “you know nothing about that is true.”
“Emma,” Ruby questions, “what the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing, Rubes.”
“Ems, it’s obviously something. You don’t make bitterly sarcastic jokes like that if you’re fine. You’re upset about something.”
She shakes her head before turning to Ruby and squeezing her bicep. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”
He doesn’t miss the look Ruby gives Emma, and he definitely doesn’t miss the look Ruby gives him.
“Darling, why don’t you go dance with your dad? I think I’m going to take Ruby for a spin?”
“Well, aren’t I the luckiest girl at the ball getting to dance with a prince?” Ruby jokes as he leads her onto the dance floor, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Emma has found David. Sure enough she has her head resting on David’s shoulder while they sway to the music.
“Ruby?”
“Yeah?”
“Does Emma talk to you about everything that’s gone on? I know you see it all because you don’t shield yourself away from the media, but does she talk about how she’s feeling about things?”
“Most of the time, yes.”
“She’s doing okay, right?”
“I mean, she’s had some all out rages over some things, but Emma’s a badass, even when she’s vulnerable. Maybe especially when she’s vulnerable.”
“Too true, lass,” he laments before spinning her around and pulling her back to him. “I simply want her to be okay, to be happy.”
“She is. You just have some assholes in your family. Plus all of those other assholes that open their mouths when they should be keeping them closed.”
Asshole is a popular word tonight, and it shouldn’t be.
“I just worry about her.”
“She does the same to you.” Ruby urges him to spin her again, the bottom of her dress slightly moving with the motion. “I think the two of you going away is going to do wonders.”
He pulls Ruby in closer so that his lips are close to her ear for one moment. “I’m going to ask her to marry me on the trip.”
“Well, fuck, man,” Ruby whispers despite her usually loud nature, “finally.”
He laughs, and he can hear the music winding down around them. “It’s not been that long, just six months really since all of this started.”
“It’s been six years.”
He doesn’t say anything else, hugging Ruby when the dance is over before finding Emma and taking her home.
The next few days pass quickly, and before he knows it Christmas Eve has arrived, and he’s loading into a train carriage for Sandringham with Emma, David, and Mary Margaret. They’re technically breaking many a protocol by the three of them attending the Christmas celebrations, even if it’s only the private ones, but he still cannot believe that his parents willingly made the offer for the Nolans to join them for Christmas.
It’s not too long of a train ride, and when they arrive at the estate, Liam and his family in the next cart over from them, he can feel the awe running through Emma and her parents. His family is a lot to take in for many a reason, but stepping foot on the grounds of the estate for the first time is something that would put awe in anyone who didn’t grow up in palaces and sprawling country estates. He simply reaches down to hold Emma’s hand, squeezing her palm through their gloves, as they all walk into the front doors, thankful for there to be no cameras awaiting their arrival this year.
Killian hands off the suitcase of gifts for the extended family to one of their butlers, noting to catch up with all of the staff later this afternoon, before he guides David and Mary Margaret to their suite, dropping them off and promising to pick them up for lunch before taking Emma to their own suite.
Everything is more relaxed here, furniture far lass ornate and much more akin to that of a normal home. Well, as close to normal as they can get. The uniqueness of the estate comes from the way everything is draped in reds and golds for the holidays, the smell of freshly baked pie and apple cider somehow always permeating throughout the grounds.
The lunch and afternoon tea are much more casual affairs than the dinner tonight, and he leaves Emma to rest in their room, letting her know that she can feel free to wander around the grounds or go visit Abigail and the kids, before calling his father to see where he is at that moment. He finds him in one of the sitting rooms, book in his hands and cup of tea sitting on the side table, exactly how he would portray his father if he had to paint a portrait of the man.
“Happy Christmas Eve, Killian,” Brennan greets before marking his spot in his book and placing it on the side table next to the cup of tea.
“Happy Christmas Eve.” Killian sits in the armchair across from his father, leaning forward and running his hands over his face before he begins what he came here for. “Is Albert coming today?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I’d tried to convince him to go somewhere else, even offered up one of the other estates, but he and his family insisted that they belonged here today.”
“Did you talk to him about what happened at the gala?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He didn’t seem the slightest bit remorseful, and I know it’s because he and I are cut from the same cloth. He simply never had someone tell him that he was being a certifiable prick all of the time. He didn’t have you to show him the error of his ways.”
Killian smiles before leaning forward and placing his head in his hands, elbows perched on his knees. “I just don’t know what to do, Dad. It’s like we fight one demon and then another one pops up out of nowhere. I mean, first it was you and Liam, and then Neal. All of the press. And then we finally get over all of that, and more comes from this family. I mean, were we all born with sodding asshole DNA? Is there not one of us who hasn’t had a stick shoved up our ass in the last few decades?”
“Probably not. Maybe just you. You’re the exception.”
“What are we going to do, though? I’m going to be married to Emma.” He pauses, smile crossing his face for a small moment. “Hopefully. We’re going to get married, and she’ll never know when a family member will attack her character. Albert fucking called her a whore.”
Brennan grimaces before running his fingers at his temples, seemingly trying to rub out a headache. “I know, son. I know. I’m going to figure it out somehow. Maybe have a talk with everyone. Maybe threaten to cut them off. It’s petty, but I can do that and it would hit them hard. I’d do that for the sake of you and Emma.”
“Thank you. Truly.”
“She’s special to you, and she’s special to your mother and I as well. And one day, hopefully as you said, she’ll be a senior member of this family whether Albert likes it or not.”
His family is cordial at their lunch, Albert purposely seated far away from Emma and her parents, and he only sees Emma tense once when she makes unintentional eye contact with the man. It’s a nice time, one of his favorite parts of their Christmas celebrations, but after tea and opening their friendly, gag gifts, they all play a game of friendly (or not so friendly depending on the level of competitiveness each person possess) football. He and Liam always lead separate teams, picking their members from the family and staff each year in turn. Liam, the bastard, gets to pick first this year, and to everyone’s surprise, he picks Emma first.
It might not be to Emma’s surprise because when she walks to stand next to Liam, she winks at Killian before wrapping her arm around Liam’s shoulder like to two of them are just the best of pals, thick as thieves.
He feels like the wool was pulled over his eyes.
He doesn’t mind at all.
Emma is surprisingly good, her fondness for running helping her even if she’s always claimed not to be too athletically skilled, and she and Liam are kicking his team’s butt. There aren’t enough young people on his team, and try as David might, he’s nothing compared to his daughter’s skills right now.
At one point Emma scores a goal on Killian, and Liam lifts her in the air and spins her around while Killian is left standing in his spot with his arms on his hips.
When the game is over, Killian’s body slick with sweat and his confidence and team totally defeated, Emma makes her way over to him and wraps her arms around his neck, giddy grin on her face as she smiles up at him and he looks down at her with fondness, hands finding purchase on her hips.
“So I just kicked you ass, babe,” she laughs before kissing the underside of his jaw, her lips as soft as ever against the hair there.
“Next year you’re going to be on my side. I pick before Liam, and you, Emma Nolan, are going to be my first pick.”
“Yeah?”
“Always.”
They’ve got a bit of free time between the game and their formal dinner, so after showering and slipping into comfortable clothes before later donning suits and dresses, he and Emma take the time to exchange their own gifts with each other. He’s not the best at gift giving, knowing that he’s more comfortable showing his love and affection through words and actions rather than items, but he does rather like giving things to Emma simply to see the smile that graces her face when she loves something.
They dress for dinner, Emma in another beautiful gown, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to her being this acclimated to his life and all of the traditions and customs the his family partakes in. It’s so different than her family and the traditions he’s partaken in with the Nolans for the last few Christmas seasons, but traditions can merge, even if some of them are royal ones.
Everything goes perfectly fine at dinner, the courses served and the conversation flowing like the wine, and there’s something to be said for small miracles like Emma and her parents being able to enjoy a Christmas celebration without something chasing at their heels and nipping at their necks.
No one can retire to bed until his father does, and Brennan seems to have inhaled vats of caffeine today, laughing and drinking and keeping everyone entertained by stories of his younger days mixed in with tales of both Liam and Killian as children. It’s far past midnight, his suit becoming incredibly uncomfortable and his eyes becoming heavy. He can tell everyone else is beginning to feel the same way, and when Emma drapes herself over his lap and buries her head in his shoulder, he knows that she’s struggling to stay awake.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He strokes her back, running his fingers across the bare skin exposed by her dress, the bones of her spine protruding from the way she’s hunched forward.
“I really want your dad to go to bed so that we can go to bed. This dress makes me feel like I can’t move.”
“You might not be able to move, love, but you cut quite the figure in that dress.”
“I think it’s more that my bra is cutting me,” she chuckles against his neck, “but thank you.”
His father does eventually retire to bed, and Killian doesn’t even want to think about how few hours he’s going to get to sleep before the Church Service in the morning, instead helping Emma out of her dress and taking the bobby pins out of her hair while she wipes away at her makeup. It’s a long process, and by the time they collapse onto the bed it’s much closer to sunrise than midnight.
In the morning he quietly slips out of bed to get ready for the service, kissing Emma’s temple before he joins his family members on their walk to the church. He walks in behind Liam and Abigail, making sure to wave to the crowd that’s gathered and take some time to speak to a few of them. It’s bloody freezing outside, and these people have decided to spend their Christmas morning simply hoping to catch a glimpse of his family. He doesn’t understand it, but if he can bring Christmas cheer to someone by talking to them for a short moment, it’s legitimately the least he can do.
When they return to Sandringham Emma and her parents are waiting in one of the sitting rooms, David and Mary Margaret laughing at Emma trying to adjust her fascinator on the top of her head since one is required for the ladies at lunch today. She’s been such a good sport about so many things, but he has a feeling it may all come undone by the red hat gracing her hair.
“Hey,” he greets before placing his hands on her hips and pressing his lips against hers, “Happy Christmas, darling. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept great, Killian. Thanks for asking,” David jests, laughing at his own joke.
“Well you do need your beauty sleep, Dave.”
“I slept fine,” Emma eventually answers before reaching up to adjust her hat again, her face forming a scowl that no one should have on Christmas. “Merry Christmas, babe.”
“Emma,” Abigail laughs before handing Elizabeth off to Liam, the one-month old dressed to match her brother in shades of green, “come here. Let me fix this for you, honey.”
“I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to get it situated on the side of my head.”
“Well that’s what hairdressers are for, but luckily for you I have years of experience doing this.” Abigail works with Emma’s hair for a little while longer before finally being satisfied with her work, harrumphing in satisfaction. “There. Now let’s eat.”
That evening they retire to one of the great halls, projector set up on a wall that’s been removed of decorative weaponry that could still be used in a battle, and dining tables replaced with recliners and couches, piles of blankets and pillows kept in baskets at the hall entrances that people can grab before cuddling up into one of the seats. The extended family is invited for this part of the evening, so it’s a much more crowded affair than the last night, children tailing along with their parents and taking up the seats directly in front of the projector.
“This is insane,” Emma whispers to him as they settle into one of the oversized recliners, both of them having changed into joggers and sweaters, Christmas-themed socks gracing Emma’s feet as she wiggles her toes to pull their blanket further down their legs.
“Aye, it reminds me of celebrations with you family.”
“Yeah, but with a much larger screen and a bigger selection of gourmet popcorn.”
“There’s also hot chocolate.”
“Where?” she gasps, hitting his shoulder as she moves from her position like she has to have the hot chocolate right now.
“They’re going to bring it out to us once the movie starts.”
She sighs before settling back down beside him, moving his arm so that it rests over her shoulder while her head rests on his. “What are we watching?”
“It’s a wonderful life.”
And despite everything, it is.
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He’s my soulmate, unfortunately | Pt 13
{Requests are open!}
Summary | Previously | You are here | Next
Warnings: None but we back bitches and Yoongi’s weak for the thot version of M/n uwu
Previously: New From jypentertainment:
Canvas “Lust for Lust” M/V
The speed at which Yoongi navigated from the notification on his phone to the actual video on his computer was astounding.
There must have been a fair amount of traffic for the video due to the longer loading time but soon enough the video started and a rich bass began to flow through his studio speakers. The visuals were striking and so aesthetically pleasing to the eye as streaks of black, grey and red flew across the screen in the form of satin fabric; eventually, the first lines were sung. Taewoo, if Yoongi recalled correctly, began his voice moulding with the sensual music and flowing along with it in a way that was almost indescribable. Then followed Ren, the deeper tone of his voice almost accentuating the baseline and making the beat sound raunchy and explicit in some way; near the end of Ren’s verse, Yoongi picked up on a mid-toned singing that he couldn’t recognise but as he focused more on the video on the screen he could see his soulmate, staring dead at the camera with one of the most intense looks he had ever seen. As the camera panned out through the window from the blindingly red room, Yoongi felt a shiver flush over his whole body, the music video screamed power and domination and the rapper couldn’t help but feel… some kind of way about it.
As the video continued, it eventually got to what Yoongi would call a part that’s before the wait. Yoongi stared in awe at the screen ahead of him as he watched the group spin out and M/n take centre stage; his voice sent waves though Yoongis body as his eyes widened to the point where tears pricked and threatened to fall from the corner of his eye. The leader's voice was so velvety and husky at the same time. An audible gasp left Yoongi’s lips a scene of M/n sat on a chair spinning handcuffs around on one finger and then looked dead at the camera once more as he finished off his line.
The producer shot forward from where he was relaxing in his chair to smash a finger down on the space bar in an effort to pause the video, luckily it worked. Yoongi couldn’t help but let out a deep breath as he placed his head in his hands and threaded his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god…” He barely managed out, “How the hell am I gonna finish this?”
Eventually, Yoongi sat up and took a sip of water from the bottle to the side of his desk before pressing the spacebar and resuming the video. The video continued on into a small instrumental, and the screen showed quick flashes of each Canvas member doing something; each action was only small for each member, but what was consistent was M/n being in front of and walking around a throne of sorts. As the instrumental came to an end, the screen showed M/n learning to the screen and offering a rose of sorts while smirking; then it went back to the chorus. Yoongi wasn’t sure of how much more he could handle honestly.
As the video came to a close, the screen displayed all of the members sat at a long, glass dining table and panned closer and closer to the head of the table and once the camera stopped, Yoongi could see M/n smirk as the music in the background dulled out and had a low baseline; as M/n smirked, the rapper could hear a thick and honeyed voice say “Right?”. There was no doubt in Yoongi’s mind that the voice was M/n’s after what he had seen through the whole video but, oh wow, did he want to crumble. And to make matters worse, as the screen cut to black and flashed the Canvas logo, he could hear a sly yet satisfied chuckle; once again, undoubtedly his soulmates.
After he closed the browser, Yoongi just… sat there. He was absolutely stunned, he didn’t expect this from the trailer. Canvas had gone beyond his expectations.
As much as Yoongi wanted to continue to sit there in shock, his “focus” was broken by the sound of his phone ringing, M/n’s name being flashed across the screen. He couldn’t help but gulp, how was he supposed to answer after almost losing his soul to a music video?
Slowly, he picked up the phone and pressed the answer button before bringing the device to his ear “Hello?” He managed out with surprising stability in his voice.
“Yoongi-ssi!” M/n yelled through the phone before coughing and toning down his voice, “Did you see it?”
Yoongi let a small smile bloom across his face at the fact that M/n was unable to hide his excitement “If you’re talking about ‘Lust for lust’ then I might have just,” Yoongi teased lightly.
“So?” m/n trailed off, nervousness now in his voice, “What did you think?”
Yoongi let out a breath, god help him now because he feels like he’s gonna need it “Honestly?” He began, “I’m absolutely astounded. I’m in actual shock. The video is so beautifully produced and the track is so gripping. Oh! And your voice! Don’t even get me started, how come you hid your talent for so long?!”
Yoongi could hear M/n let out an airy laugh as he caught himself from his rant “I really don’t know?” M/n breathed out, “I guess my company just didn’t want me to until now?”
Yoongi grinned “Well they made a great choice,” He said, “Ah! I’ll let you go now, you must want to celebrate with the rest of your group?”
“Ah… I take it you can hear Ren calling for me in the background?” M/n laughed through the phone earning a hum of confirmation from Yoongi, “Okay I’ll go then. Thank you for your feedback Yoongi-ssi… It means a lot to me.”
A soft smile graced Yoongis face at his soulmates words “It’s no problem M/n-ah. Also, I told you to call me hyung instead, we’re not strangers anymore.”
A soft gasp could be heard across the phone but it was barely noticeable “O-okay” M/n mumbled out with a tone of happiness hidden in his voice, “Goodbye hyung…” With a response of goodbye back, the call was promptly ended. Yoongi sat there in a seemingly blissful silence, of course, it didn’t last long. The sound of his doorbell rang through the studio causing Yoongi to groan. He stood up and made his way through the door to open the main door and was met with the sight of Hoseok. Yoongi couldn’t help but raise a brow at the dancer's appearance at his studio.
“Hobi?” Yoongi questioned, “What are you doing here?”
His question was met with a deep sigh “You saw M/n’s music video right?” Hoseok asked, his face unusually serious. This was, of course, met with a nod from the other. “You do realise how much controversy this video is going to get in and affect the group?”
Well, there was something Yoongi hadn’t thought about.
#Admin Tea#kpopwonderlandtag#(He's my soulmate unfortunately)#bts x male reader#bts x reader#kim namjoon#kim taehyung#kim seokjin#park jimin#min yoongi#jeon jungkook#jung hoseok#male reader#reader#bts#bangtan#bangtan soneyondan
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