#welcome to the family kid

[piratewithvigor]

Action Andretti 🤝 Claudio Castagnoli

Embarrassing Jericho beyond repair

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Baby Bea and the OCS Chapter 1

8 Years Earlier: One week following Beatrice's 17th Birthday

Stepping off the train in Antequera, Beatrice can’t help but feel like a cliche. Here she is. A school girl in a strange country, again. All her belongings were in a duffel bag slung over her shoulder as she looked wide-eyed at the beautiful architecture of the Spanish town. It rolled and moved with the hills. The buildings looked like they belonged there just as much as the mountains did like they might have been there just as long.

It was different from Porrentyry. The home of the ever-prestigious St. Charles College et Lychee, god, even thinking of the name, made Beatrice want to roll her eyes. It was greener there. But not really in a good way. It made the buildings look stuck there. Like they didn’t belong.

Though young, Beatrice wasn’t blind to the fact that all these observations about belonging were likely just her projecting. At least this time, she knew more phrases in the local language than “Hello” and “Where’s the bathroom?” when she walked through the streets of a new place. Alone, and a least less afraid than the first time she’d done it. Maybe this could be it. Maybe this would be a place she could fit.

As she walked the streets, she stopped at a little corner bakery. The smell pulled her in more than anything else. It was delightful. She’d been training since the Nun visiting Maison du Cœur Eucharistique mistook her for a novitiate and started the recruitment process for the OCS, but the Roscos Fritos smelled so good she couldn’t resist.

One treat, one final indulgence, before she entered a life of service couldn’t hurt. Right?

The man behind the counter she orders smiles at Beatrice, warm and easy, as he passes the bag to her. However, when she reaches to dig through her pockets, he holds a hand, stopping her. “¿Eres del Convento?”  

“No.” Beatrice shakes her head, looking down at herself. She didn’t think she was dressed as a nun. Loose-fitting black pants and shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun. Little did she know she’d be sitting at a bus stop in an outfit not dissimilar to this one going the opposite direction. However, for now, that wasn’t her.

Not yet, at least. If they let her stay, it wasn’t exactly a done deal. She still had to convince Mother Superion to let her stay. That she was worth it. An endeavor that may prove impossible, seeing as she was still trying to convince herself too.

She didn’t know much. She’d tried her best to research the order and talk to the sister who’d recruited her, but the OCS was secret at best and very good at keeping that secret. She was told to come in good physical shape and be ready to train hard. Beatrice was no stranger to training, to discipline and pushing herself to her limits, but this was an unknown world.

Beatrice wasn’t afraid of hard things. Her whole life was hard. A sentiment she often found herself refuting. Her life was privileged. She knew that much. She should be thankful for all she was provided with growing up, and she was. However, that didn’t mean it wasn’t also hard. Fitting into boxes she didn’t belong in. Pretending to be things she wasn’t, being good at things so that she had any value at all. It was hard, and it was exhausting.

She didn’t think joining the church would solve that problem. She wasn’t that delusional, but she figured if she was going to have to pretend, to hide parts of herself away, and be miserable, she might as well make something of it. Be of service. Help.

It didn’t hurt that here she would have the opportunity to prove to a god she longed to be loved by that she was doing everything she could to make up for the sins of her heart. She’d slipped one time, and that was it. It hadn’t even been anything at all. It had been innocent childhood friends misconstrued into something perverse, but perception was reality, and that time had long passed.

She’d never felt a dread like this. Thinking about all the ways she could fail. What might happen if she did. She knew this was going to test her in all the ways she could be: physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Likely socially as well. There were going to be late nights and early mornings. Training. Prayer. Studying. Beatrice wouldn’t say she was scared. That felt like admitting something she wasn’t going to be able to overcome.

In the darkest parts of her mind, even if Mother Superion allowed her to stay, Beatrice wasn’t sure she’d overcome any of it. Those nagging ‘what ifs’ played like a broken record in her mind. What if they found out? What if she wasn’t good enough? What if they rejected her? What if she didn’t have what it took? What if she was terrible at it?

Quitting doesn’t count if it is before you even started, right? No. The humiliation of quitting would be less than the humiliation of failing, right? You are doing this. Failure isn’t an option.  

Then and there, in this quaint bakery in this small Spanish town, while a baker looked at the strange young woman before him, Beatrice made herself a promise: You will convince Mother Superion to let you stay. And you will stay. They will have to drag your body from this order before you will ever quit.

All that was too much to dump on a stranger, a man she would likely see around the small town if she did get to stay. In a language, she still needed to be more confident in her pronunciation or vocabulary to get across any of that accurately. So, instead, she settles on disclosing “Soy nueva.”  

“Las hermanas no pagan.” He smiled like it was the hundredth time he’d reminded one of the women from the Convent that their money was no good in his bakery.

Beatrice figured it likely was. It was a kindness she felt she hadn’t yet earned. So instead of listening to the man, she took a few euros from her pocket and held them up to the man before placing them in the tip jar. She smiles as he shakes his head at the unnecessary gesture, flipping the towel back over his shoulder casually as he does. “¡Buenos días!”

Beatrice is halfway out the door when she realizes, for all her confidence getting off the bus, she had no idea where she was going. Pausing in the middle of the frame, she turns back around, bell smacking against the glass, stopping the baker from returning to the kitchen.

“ ¿Hermana? ”

Beatrice cringes a bit as the words tumble out of her mouth. Her lack of situational awareness was truly embarrassing. “ Um, ¿Donde esta-” But before she can even finish the question, he’s smiling at her knowingly as he points to his left as if to say, ‘That way. Can’t miss it.’ His smile only widens, making his eyes glimmer in amusement when the bells ring loudly, presumably just up the street.  

“Gracias.” Beatrice turns to look down the street, shaking her head when she sees what could only be the gates of a colossal convent. She really could have found it on her own. Yet here she was, not thinking things through. The closer the time gets to when she’s supposed to step through those gates, the more she can feel her heart beating frantically and her chest tightening with each passing minute.  

“Con mucho gusto. ¡Mucha mierda, Hermana! ”   It was a little puzzling at first, but she vaguely remembered that it was a version of ‘break a leg.’ Beatrice feels her cheeks heat up as he winks knowingly at her like he didn’t just say the Spanish equivalent of “shit” to a young woman hopeful of becoming a nun. To him, the young woman looked much too young to be getting into the kinds of things those nuns got into. Yet still here she was.

And though she took the time to enjoy the treat, there she was. She was standing in front of those grand black gates to the convent. Through the bars, she could see women in various combinations of gear. Sisters were walking around in navy habits, chatting idly. Women in black workout gear were returning from a run. A few more were in what looked to be Gi’s sparing.

This was it.

This was what she’d worked so hard to graduate early for. She worked so hard to skip her final year of school for an opportunity to serve the church like this. A chance to make up for what she was. To maybe finally do something worthwhile with her life.

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[africanrefugeeswelcome]

In all your pregnancies your belly has been huge, congratulations

[ryllen]

this PSA is brought to u, by first year farmer ・゚ *✧

[zurenie]

yo drop some fandom hcs i wanna draw them

[hyunpic]

[leoleolovesdc]

When it comes to Cass and language I like to think that even though she eventually learned how to speak and write and has to use it on a daily basis that is obviously not her preferred method of communication. Cass only had to start grappling with the concept of verbal language at 17 and so she’d developed her own kind of communication, esp w the people she’s most comfortable with she’d use a mix of gestures, facial expressions, body language and simple words; things that she’s most used to and could use to express herself more freely.

Her friends and family having to deal with her being mostly non-verbal would also force them to get better at interpreting and using facial expressions and body language to express themselves, also making it easier for Cass to understand them back.

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

....hi larry.

yeahhi hahahahhaha

[mazojo]

m!ik truly has the power to make me tear up at any form of found familliness

[macksartblock]

Projecting my own teen experiences onto the kiddads bc I’m out of the house rn and I think it’s funny

Terry: took a parenting class in 12th grade and on the first night of his culminative assignment he ended up crying, naked wrapped in a towel, on the bathroom floor after the robot baby interrupted him pre-shower.

Lark: left for school in the morning then walked around for two blocks before heading back home, after his parents went to work. Snuck in through his bedroom window on more than one occasion, when either parent stayed home. Did this for a week straight.

Sparrow: got clocked as aspec before he even realized while out at a cafe during lunch with Rebecca, but she told him she didn’t mind because she’s good with her hands and can just think about him??

Grant: while on a date w/ his high school boyfriend at the fair, his boyfriend’s mother tracked him down just to argue with him. Grant attempted to slip away to offer some privacy but his boyfriend kept an iron grip on his hand, so he spent the next several minutes awkwardly turned away from the argument.

Nick: during an orthodontist appointment, was recommended to install metal springs because he kept forgetting to wear his elastics. Without even discussing it, Jodie gave the okay for the springs but the smallest size available were too big - therefore not installed - and Nick refused to speak to Jodie for the rest of the day.

[lovesickeros]

im back for my monthly delusion and its alice this time BECAUSE WHY DOES NO ONE ELSE TALK ABOUT HER. OR RHINEDOTTIR. extremely powerful witches who are probably on equal power level to an archon just vibing and committing war crimes.

[hyohaehyuk]

He got affairzoned (x)

The video interview is called Jacob Anderson and Sam Reid share all of the details on their series Interview With The Vampire S2 - People Interview

So in the interview they ask them what they would do in a day off and Jacob mentioned that spending his day off with his wife and kid is his happy place and Sam reaction just broke my heart.

Sam was trying so hard to have a normal reaction but I think he had a reality check and either he realized he was the mistress or that jacob is not interested on him at all romantically.

Like, call me delulu how much you want it but i bet any other cast member wouldn't even had bat an eye at Jacob' answear but Sam was clearly affected and couldn't keep a poker face (dude you are an actor. Do smth 😭).

To be frank i dont know if at that time they was aware of each other feelings (i dont even know if they are now) but if they was, then Jacob was really cruel answering that question in front of Sam*, especially bc in the previous one, about what it would be their last meal, Sam said the one he had in Prague with Jacob every single night and a bit later Sam even admitted he didn't liked the food which just meant what he liked was the company. Jacob, honey, read f*cking the room

*i dont know, he could just have said something more simplified with the same meaning, like "spending time with family and friends".

[africanrefugeeswelcome]

[lloydfrontera]

if i think too long about the ending making lloyd leave the home he worked so hard to save behind along with the new found family he sacrificed his life for so he can move to a place he has no emotional connection to where he only knows two people (one of which is actually following him from the aforementioned home) in order to make him get a standard "have a wife and children" 'happy' ending i start wanting to bite people not gonna lie

[spacerockwriting]

Galladrabbles: Room for More

Happy Holidays @galladrabbles and thank you @dynamic-power for this weeks prompt! I hope everyone is stuffed and ready for the next week ahead! Happy Holidays Gallavich friends!

Room for More

“Don’t forget the plates,” Ian reminds Mickey. “Its our first time hosting.” Mickey plops the two one year olds in the playpen, going to set the table with the Christmas plates that Ian had purchased for the occasion.

“Chill, Red, it’s just your family.”

“I just want it to be perfect,” Ian replies, going to grab the two highchairs and place them at the dining table. “Can you get the kids dressed? Getting food out the oven,” Ian says, flushing.

A door creaks open and Ian hears the familiar noise of his childhood. “Hey Sweetface, room for one more?”

“Fiona!”

[faline-cat444]

It's this month's "Big Release Day" but some things still have yet to show