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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 4 years

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It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 1,839

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Rose apply makeup before The Doctors self proclaimed “theatre event” that he’s taking you to. When the Doctor comes in to complain about the amount of time you’ve taken, you and Rose pull a small prank on him. That’s it, that’s the plot.

A/N: This was completely self indulgent, I've wanted to be Rose’s best friend since I was 9, so that’s basically all this is.

You hummed along to the music playing softly in the background. It had been a fair while since you had listened to early 2000’s music; travelling on the TARDIS didn’t leave much time for nostalgia, what with the different planets, the aliens, and completely different time periods from when your existence wasn’t even a sparing thought.

Still though, it was nice to take a break every now and again.

“It’s not really nostalgia though, is it,” Rose said from beside you after you brought it up. “I mean, this song’s only a year or so old. We used to play it in the shop.”

“Before it blew up.”

“Ha yeah,” Rose grinned. “Before it blew up.”

“Although,” you raised an eyebrow at her and reiterated the year you were from. “It’s definitely nostalgia.”

Rose rolled her eyes good naturedly, then pointed to the vanity next to you. “Can you pass the eyeliner over?”

You hummed and reached over to the one she was pointing at; it was an eyeliner pencil, a black one with a little sharpener on the lid.

It sat on a vanity made of warm mahogany wood, among a myriad of makeup from foundations, eye shadow palettes, lipsticks, and rouge.

Beside it and in front of you and Rose was a large mirror that ran from the floor to the ceiling, on the only solid wall in the TARDIS’ wardrobe. You and Rose liked to think The TARDIS had made the area specially for you both, so you could do your makeup together.

You plopped back down onto the floor and passed the eyeliner to Rose, who was sitting cross legged and doing the finishing touched to her foundation.

You were poised to go to a theatre event - what it was exactly, the Doctor wouldn’t tell you. It didn’t matter if you often wore makeup often or not, right now, you were feeling it, and you figured a theatre event was a nice opportunity to change things up a bit.

You frowned at the eye shadow palette in front of you, trying to work out which colours would blend the best and how you could actually use it.

You jumped as one of your favourite songs from the early 2000’s began playing, turning to Rose with a grin. She was looking at you with an equally bright smile, her right eye only half painted with the eyeliner pencil left dangling in her hand. Almost instinctually you both broke out into song, singing along terribly.

Your voice cracked at one of the high notes, and Rose laughed, shaking you lightly as she continued. The make-up was forgotten as the pair of you danced, moving in a way that was particularly reminiscent of some sort of Tik Tok routine.

Not that you would tell Rose that particular tidbit, it was a bit early to explain Tik Tok to her.

At the end of the chorus Rose stumbled with her words over the lyrics. It was so surprising that it shocked you out of your exuberance, and the pair of you were left giggling on the floor. The song played in the background, a harmony to your laughter.

The Doctor cleared his throat, and you reached over in between your laughter to turn the music down. From this angle you could see him clearly, he was leaning against a poll behind you, sans coat, with only two of the buttons on his pinstripe suit done up.

You gazed at Rose, who raised her eyebrow at you and smirked playfully. “Did’ja need us Doctor?” She turned back to the mirror, applying her eyeliner and trying to stifle her laughter.

“Dunno,” he said. You looked up at his reflection in the mirror in front of you, locking eyes with you, and he winked, before heaving himself off the poll. “You two’ve been taking an awful long time.”

“What,” you said, and passed Rose her mascara wand, placing the eye shadow back onto the shelf. You’d keep things more natural and match Rose. “You’ve been bored?”

“What – me? Nah, I’m never bored.”

You let out a brief laugh. “Ah yep, that’s completely accurate.”

“Well, again,” The Doctor said. “You both have been gone for a while.”

Rose snorted and picked up your phone, glancing at the display. “We’ve only been about 20 minutes. You’re getting more impatient by the day.”

“Impatient, oh now that’s nonsense,” he drawled and crouched down behind you both. “Now, what are we doing here?”

You waved your eyeliner pen in front of him, and then began drawing on a wing. “You said theatre event so here we are,” you gestured at you and Rose with your free hand. “Getting ready for a theatre event.”

Rose said her thanks for the mascara and began applying her first coat, chewing on her lip as she did so.

You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye then back at your reflection as you filled your eyeliner in, before starting on your other eye. “How many coats of that do you do anyway?”

Rose hummed. “Dunno, however many I need until I think it looks good.”

You chuckled. It was just so early 2000’s of her. Sometimes, your eyelids looked heavy just looking at her eyelashes.

Rose looked at you aghast. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” you poked your tongue to your teeth as you smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “I was just thinking of makeup trends, how things change.”

“Y’know sometimes, you can be as cryptic as him,” she gestured to The Doctor with her head for good measure, and set out a couple different shades of rouge as the next coat of mascara dried.

The Doctor gawped. “When am I ever cryptic?”

Both you and Rose paused what you were doing so you could stare down his reflection in the mirror.

“Alright fine,” he relented. “I guess sometimes I change the topic of a conversation.” The Doctor cocked his head to the side, watching you both thoughtfully as the pair of you continued on with your makeup. “Why do you both always need to do this, anyway?"

Rose was applying another coat of mascara when she replied. "Come off, you're not having a go at us for wearing makeup now, are you?"

"No, no, not at all, just curious really. I should start factoring this extra time in when I take you two places, because blimey you take a while.” He looked towards the vanity. "And that's a fair amount of it all too, do you really use all of that?"

You stuck your eyeliner pen out as if it were a rod. “Says the man with a collection of hair gel for his gravity defying hair – oh, and could you pass me those eyelashes over there?"

You gestured to the vanity and The Doctor’s gaze followed.

“Eyelashes,” he drawled, standing up and meandering over. You watched his reflection as his hands danced over the various products, until he landed on the pair of false lashes you’d been hoping to apply. He lifted it up, meeting your gaze through the mirror. “These ones?”

You hummed and made a grabbing motion with your hands. “Yeah, thanks.”

The Doctor resumed his crouched position behind you and Rose, and passed you the small box. Your fingers brushed over his lightly as you grabbed the small parcel. You felt a jolt run up through your fingers and up your arm and heard his breath hitch slightly. You took the box out of his grasp and swallowed, ignoring whatever that was.

“False eyelashes,” The doctor grinned, and ran his fingers over his cheek. You tried not think about why he was doing that, it was awfully distracting. “You humans I swear sometimes you do the strangest things. It’s bloody brilliant.”

Rose grinned, and locked eyes with you, holding up the her blush compact and a brush. She nodded her head to the Doctor and you returned her grin, giving her subtle thumbs up.

“It’s not that strange,” you said, distracting the Doctor so he wasn’t watching what Rose was doing. “It’s basically just experimentation, or just making yourself feel prettier.”

Rose swooped in, poking some of her chosen blush onto The Doctors nose. “You could probably do with some pretty-ing up every now and again yourself.”

He scrunched his face up in protest.

You snorted, laughing at The Doctors reaction, and letting the magnetic eyelashes clip onto your eyes. You blinked a couple of times, letting your eyes adjust to the added weight.

Rose looked to you with a frown. “Wait, don’t you need glue with that?”

You winked at her. “They’re magnetic.”

“Could say the same about you,” The Doctor grinned that ever so charming smile at you, the one that would make you all flustered if you didn’t know any better.

You let a solitary bark of laughter. “That was a terrible pun. It’s a wonder anyone ever takes you seriously,” you grinned to match him. “You look sunburnt, by the way.”

Rose laughed and The Doctor’s hand flew to cover his nose. “Oi, that wasn’t necessary!”

He rubbed at his nose furiously and Rose fell into a pit of laughter. “I ‘spose I could have chosen a different colour.”

“Well Rose,” you eyed the palette, then turned back to her. “It looks great on you.”

The Doctor hummed, pulling his hand away. The rouge was gone. “Maybe I’m just not meant to be ‘pretty-ed up’ like the pair of you.”

“Oh,” you drawled. “So we’re meant to be ‘pretty-ed up’ then? Is that it?”

The Doctor spluttered, his eyes growing like saucers. “What? No, that’s – that’s not what I meant at all, you’ve always been pretty, still are of course, with or without the,” he gestured at your face. “Well, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Doctor?”

Rose met your eyes and smirked playfully. “Looks like someone is a little bit flustered.”

The Doctor jumped up, suddenly, as if eager to get a move on. “Well come on you two, this is a time machine, we haven’t got all day!”

You frowned for a moment. “I think that’s the exact opposite of what the phrase ‘time machine’ suggests.”

Rose laughed, sticking out her hand for you to take. “Let’s humour him, shall we.”

“Oh I’m standing right here,” The Doctor said and turned around to take off. He spun back round just as fast, and met your gaze. “And flustered – me? Never,” he tapped against his temple. “I’ve always got a plan up in here.”

He gave you both a cheeky wave and shot off again, giving you no time at all to process what the hell he just said.

You clutched against Rose with one hand, fumbling as you placed the false lashes box back on the vanity. “What do you mean you’ve got a plan?” You called after him. “A plan for what?”

Rose just laughed beside you, and tugged you along. “Well come on, let’s find out then!”

A/N: This isn’t really what I wanted to post this week, but I haven’t had time to write anything new so here’s something from the drafts. I hope you enjoyed it!

#the doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor #Rose Tyler

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cakelanguage · 4 years

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Merry Christmas @okay-sky! I’m your secret Santa for the @fmasecretsanta2020 #fmasecretsanta

I had an absolute blast writing this for you and I hope you like this RoyEd piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. Have a happy holidays and I wish you the best.

You can also read this on AO3

The snow was a foot deep and maneuvering through it was a pain in the ass, but Roy was determined to make it to the post office in North City. Normally, Roy rarely makes the trip unless he's on the last dredges of his food supply but the potential for one of Ed's letters to be there had him pushing onward.

For the short amount of time he'd gotten to spend in Central, he'd spent a large amount of it enjoying the company of the Elric brothers, specifically Ed. It was like an old wound had finally stopped aching when he got to see the man. And he was now. A man, that is. A maturity he never thought he'd see from the older Elric permeated his actions. While he still had a temper he didn't bare his teeth at the smallest of teases. He seemed wiser now and Roy wondered what he'd experienced in this other world.

His interest and desire to spend more time with Ed wasn't one-sided either. The man--amidst Roy’s own scramble to steal his attention from Miss Rockbell and Alphonse-- found him at all hours of the day to discuss anything. From alchemic theories to the property damage done while he was away, the two never seemed to run out of things to talk about.

When he'd been forced to return up North, Ed had been the one to suggest keeping up a correspondence through letters. Roy didn't mention that he’d have to essentially hike to the post office and instead happily agreed. Ed promised to write often and Roy said he'd do the same.

And he intended to.

Which brought him back to his every other day trek.

He didn't know when he'd receive his first letter so he just kept coming back. For the first time, Roy was thankful for the cane that the doctor suggested he get for strenuous exercise in case the scar tissue flared up. He'd been adamant about not using it for the longest time, but out here -- where he wasn't surrounded by people who unintentionally put him on a pillar-- using the cane didn't matter.

His breath puffed in the frosty air as he took a moment to rest his legs. He could already see the city so he'd only have around another 30-minute walk if he continued at the pace he was going.

North City was as lively as it could be for one with near-constant snowfall. While the population consisted mostly of military personnel there were still plenty of families and small businesses dotted amongst the abundance of government buildings.

These little businesses felt like they’d been plucked out of a different location, the warm glow of the fluorescents glimmering through the large windows. Roy's favorite was a little bookstore that specializes in customer requests. They'd take a poll from an assortment of people to find out what they wanted and go from there.

Roy indulged in much of the literature they had to offer and the sweet family-run shop told him he was welcome to make any requests he wanted.

Ed would've salivated at the thought.

On the outskirts of the inner city lies the post office. It was never terribly busy which was a blessing so Roy had no trouble siddling up to the counter.

"Well I'll be," the scruffy man at the counter whistled, "you're back again already."

Roy gave him a tired smile. "Glettner, I just don't want to miss the letter I'm supposed to be getting."

"I guess, but you don't live in the city so you gotta walk here." He shuddered. "Couldn't pay me to make that hike more than once a year and I've lived here for over a decade."

"I want to be punctual."

Glettner rolled his eyes, but those eyes only held mirth in them. "Well Mr. Punctual, you're in luck, a letter for you arrived yesterday evening."

Roy wasn't sure what his reaction was but it garnered him a chuckle all the same.

"Ah-ha!" Glettner cried victoriously and walked back over with the letter. "This person must really like you if they're willing to use four stamps and Express delivery." He shook his head. "Express is always so expensive.”

The letter in his hand was hefty with Ed’s tell-tale god awful handwriting on the front. He brought the letter close to his chest with a content hum.

“Ugh,” Glettner whined, “Go read your letter somewhere else if you’re gonna be looking like that when you only read the cover.”

Roy sent him a flat look. “I’ll see you, Glettner,” Roy called over his shoulder, tucking the letter safely into his coat. “Stay warm.”

“Speak for yourself! Try not to get yourself killed walking to the post office you flame-brained moron.”

Glettner always did say the nicest things.

Back in the relative safety of his cabin, Roy was able to settle down and open the letter. Carefully, he pulled the small bundle of papers jammed inside, out onto the table. Offhandedly he stoked the fire a little more with a snap of his fingers.

Admittedly, he’d missed the ease that using his alchemy allowed him with certain tasks.

Colonel Bastard,

Roy snorted and shook his head. He’d already told Ed he wasn’t a colonel anymore, but apparently, the fact hadn’t stuck in the shrimp’s mind. He wondered if Ed still had his infamous temper tantrums about his height.

Something to find out later.

The other man seemed to have grown up a great deal in the past two years, but Roy doubted Ed would’ve been able to calm himself down when it came to his height and the lack thereof.

I hope this gets to you fast, and that you haven’t frozen solid up there. Havoc told me about your cabin and I’ll be honest: sounds shitty. But they did say you had a fireplace so maybe it isn’t too bad as long as you don’t move from in front of the fire. Though now that I know what your job entails I can honestly say that you might be fucked.

Seriously, who wants to stand out in all that snow to watch for potential attacks from Drachma? That’s what Briggs is for. So get your ass back here before your ass freezes to a chair or something.

He couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from him. The letter was just wholly Ed and it almost felt like the other man was here in person.

Al wants me to tell you he says hi, so that’s from him. He’s doing okay, he’s kinda got everything figured out now. I mean he obviously did before, he was doing fine while I was gone. He’s made a name for himself even if he did kinda steal my look.

He doesn’t need me anymore.

The ink is smudged and blurred in spots and Roy’s heart clenched in his chest when he realized that those were probably tears.

I expected it and I’m glad he was able to keep moving forward with everyone’s help. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize how that’d make me feel when you were here. You’re kinda distracting even when Al’s around.

No higher praise than being able to pull Ed’s attention away from his little brother.

Resembool is the same, which is weird. Germany seemed to change every day. There were always new people coming through or some kind of showcase going on. Did I tell you about the rocket we were building? It’s hard to remember that I’m no longer in a world governed by the laws of “modern science” instead of Alchemy.

I wish you were here. I miss your stupid, smug face.

Oh did he ache for Ed to be able to insult him in person.

It’s your turn to write a letter.

-Edward Elric

Beside his name, Ed had drawn what he assumed was a self-portrait of him sticking his tongue out in a cartoonish style. Charming.

Roy set the letter on the table and rubbed at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Somehow, the letter only made him miss Ed more. He wanted to ease Ed’s worries and reassure him that he was needed.

Well, he had a letter to write.

Fullmetal,

I thought telling you four times was enough, but maybe your ears were too tiny to hear me correctly. I’m not a colonel anymore so the name isn’t correct. Haven’t we known each other long enough to be a little less informal?

You’re right, it’s freezing up here, and staying warm is near impossible without the fire. I wear two layers of wool socks and I’m still wary that I’m going to get frostbite on one of my watches.

Briggs is in charge of guarding our border. I’m just in charge of keeping watch on the trading routes that weave along the mountain valley for any sign of trouble.

Al may not need you in the same capacity that he did, but I guarantee he’s happier than he’s been in the last two years now that you’re here. From what I’ve heard from both Hawkeye and Miss Rockbell, he always seemed to be looking over his shoulder for you when he’d accomplish anything.

You are absolutely needed, and not just by Al. Never forget that Edward.

Small towns don’t change often so I’m not surprised it seems the same. People grow older, but small towns keep to themselves for the most part. Every once in a while fresh meat joins the community and they’ll be a stir and things might change a little, but generally go back to normal quickly.

City life is vivacious and ever-changing. A bigger place and more people means more changes. My aunt runs a bar and I remember how often the city would change around us.

If by rocket you mean the one you released into that crowd of people, then yes I remember you telling me about it. But feel free to tell me again, you have a knack for storytelling that I didn’t think you’d have.

I wish you were here too. I miss your impish face.

-Roy Mustang

A week later, Roy received his second letter.

Glettner gave him a wry grin and presented it to him with a flourish. “Your sweetheart replied,” he tittered, “should ask for a lock of hair in your next letter or a care package.” He winked at Roy. “Maybe something for those long, lonely nights.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Roy grouched, “it’s not from a lover.”

Glettner sighed dramatically. “Well, certainly not with that attitude! You’re clearly pining, can’t you see it?”

He raised his only visible eyebrow at the man. “Really?”

The other man waved him off. “Nevermind, just get out of here. I’ll see you in a day or so.”

“Take care, Glettner.”

“Yeah, yeah, go read your damn letter.”

Bastard,

FUCK YOU, I GREW.

Not that much Ed, Roy thought with a chuckle.

I hope that’s a better name for you. And I’m not Fullmetal anymore, not really. Sure plenty of people are going to keep calling me that, but I’m not part of the military right now. Still gotta prove I’m not dead and shit.

Do you know how hard it is to try to reinstate documents after they’ve listed you as dead? I was literally two seconds away from straight-up murdering a lawyer who was at city hall because he kept saying I needed more identification. Which is bullshit because I’m DEAD to the government.

This would’ve been really handy when Al and I were running from the military, though. But not now! Luckily, it is being sorted out and I shouldn’t have to wait much longer before I have all my documentation in order.

That was good. Ed had just started the whole process when he left to return to his post and it’d given him a headache just thinking about it.

So you lived with your aunt? Did you grow up in Central?

As much as I’ve traveled, I’m a hick at heart. I still enjoy the peace and quiet of the countryside more than the noise and life of the city. I can live in either though.

A corner of his mouth lifts. Ed preferred anywhere he could read and learn without interruptions. That hadn’t changed.

Are you lonely up there by yourself? I feel like you’re probably spending way too much time criticizing all your past actions and moping. Fuck that. Tell me about something you want to do when you come back to Central. What’s on Roy “Smug Bastard” Mustang’s agenda?

-Ed

Oh, and thanks for saying that. I think I needed to hear that from someone. I’m glad it was you.

Ed,

I guess if you can so kindly call me something else, I can just use your name. And as much as I appreciate your affectionate nickname for me, you can just call me Mustang or even just Roy, it wouldn’t bother me at all. But if you insist on a nickname I suppose I can give you one too, shorty.

I haven’t had to deal with retracting a declaration of the deceased before so I honestly don’t have any advice for you. I’d suggest going through all the hoops that they line up for you to jump through even if a shortcut looks promising. Other people were claiming to be you for fame or what-have-you so they aren’t intentionally trying to be difficult.

Why am I not surprised you actually thought about how useful the situation would’ve been back then… Maybe you’re getting predictable.

I did grow up with my aunt as my legal guardian. Both of my parents passed away when I was a young boy and she took me in. It was a rocky start. I was mourning my parents and terrified of my new living situation. But Chris Mustang always did her best to make sure I was comfortable and taken care of whether it was food or new clothes.

But she also put me to work. I obviously couldn’t work at the bar, but I bused tables and cleaned the place once we closed for the night.

Her bar doubled as an information network with her girls -- my sisters-- acting as spies while going about their business. People talk a lot during sex and will let their guard down if they feel comfortable. I learned my networking strategies from them.

I don’t know if I can imagine you as the typical hick. It’s something about all that rage and attitude that makes me think more of small town punks. But there is something nice about the quiet of the countryside.

It’s not I’m not I suppose I am a bit lonely out here. I don’t really have much communication to speak of besides your letters. They’re the highlight of my days. The only other person I normally talk to right now is the man who runs the post office. I feel like I’m disconnected from people nowadays. Whether that’s because I was part of a coupe that unsettled them or my demeanor is just off-putting. Let me know what you think.

When I get back to Central, the first thing I want to do is look for an apartment. Then I’m not sure. Maybe go back to pursuing the title of Fruher. After the whole Homunculus debacle, I stepped down in a rush to… run as far away from what had happened as I could.

After that… would you like to go out sometime? Get something to drink, eat a good meal with good company?

You’re probably going to have to fight to spend time with me at first. The team kept reminding me that when I was there that they missed me. But I’ll make plenty of time for you.

-Roy

“Roy, you have a package,” Glettner commented the third time he came into the post office that week. “Did you take my advice and ask for a token from them?” He leaned over the counter with a lewd grin. “There’s no telling what’s in here.”

Roy huffed and held out his hand. “Box, Glettner,” Roy ordered. He thought Glettner was funny and the man reminded him of an older, grayer Havoc with all his teasing and good-natured ribbing. It made him miss his team, though.

Glettner deposited the box in his hands before holding out a box cutter, handle-first to Roy. “Can I convince you to open it here? I can even let you use the back room for some privacy if you want.”

Roy shook his head with a put-upon grin. “You seem more excited about this package than I am.”

He shrugged “I don’t think you realize how boring it can get here. Usually the most exciting thing I get in this place is the military personnel transferring sensitive documents.” He scrunched his nose. “I don’t know, guess the whole thing makes my romantic heart sing.”

“You trying to get me to feel sorry for you so I’ll open the package here?”

“That depends, is it working?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Fine, take me to your backroom.”

Glettner threw a fist in the air and gestured to a door on the right. “Follow me, lover-boy.”

He grumbled but followed after the perky man. They weaved through the stacks of boxes and came across a desk. Glettner shoved a few papers to the side so Roy had a spot to put his package on.

Roy set his box down and carefully ran the knife along the taped edges. He shifted through the newspaper that’d been carefully positioned around the gift.

And what a gift it was.

Nestled inside the box was a phone that was almost the exact one that’d sat on his old desk. He gently pulled it out of its protective paper. Now that he could see it fully he noted the wear on some of the parts. The rotary dial was a polished bronze and looked to be the newest piece on the phone. The body of the phone consisted of a few welded pieces of metal but the job was near seamless so unless Ed knew someone who could weld, he’d probably done it himself with alchemy.

He thumbed at the handset and couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. It felt like the same metal as Ed’s new arm was made of and he knew Ed had made that choice on purpose.

“They sent you a phone?” Glettner asked, interrupting Roy’s casual admiration of his gift.

“I’m pretty sure it’s so we can call each other in case we don’t want to wait for the mail system to deliver our messages,” Roy explained.

The other man turned his attention to him sharply. “So I won’t see you anymore?”

Roy shook his head. “No, you’ll still have to see me,” he nodded his head at the phone, “Even with a phone I won’t have a guaranteed connection with where I am, but it gives us the option if we…” He paused, his smile going from soft to joyful, “to hear each other’s voice.”

“Aw fuck,” Glettner sniffled, “you’ve got that mushy look on your face.”

Roy’s face closed off. “Better?”

The postman shook his head. “I think whatever you two are, it makes you better.” He rubbed at his nose and shrugged. “Take that as you will.”

Setting up the phone was relatively easy after he finagled a makeshift antenna to the roof of the cabin. He’d picked up a few pieces of scrap steel and transported his load back to his cabin. With a quick transmutation, he’d constructed an antenna that would ideally not break if the storms got bad.

Ed had suggested he use steel in his letter and if he trusted anyone when it came to metal knowledge it’d be the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric.

He glanced over at the letter he’d set on the table and reread what Ed had written.

… Winry and Al pointed out to me that I could be calling you if I didn’t want to wait to get a letter. But when I asked Riza how to call you she told me you didn’t have one.

What kind of bullshit is that? I figure everyone has a phone but then you get relocated and haven’t bothered to get a phone in the two years you’ve been gone?

There's a large inkblot on the dot of his question mark as if Ed had paused to gather his thoughts but forgotten to pick up his pen.

Sounds like you were in a bad place.

Ed had always had a special gift of understanding why Roy did what he did. Even more so now that he'd matured more and had gone through a similar mindstate.

I get that. I’ve been there. But I’m taking away some of this forced isolation you’ve coveted for yourself.

I’m not telling you that you have to start talking to people now that you have a phone, but try. You may have lost an eye, but you aren’t blind. And you have tons of people who care about you and I know you can see that so don’t keep shutting them out.

Like that.

Everyone else had given him ample space to adjust to his vision change and his disillusionment of the government he'd put so much time and effort into. But that space became hard to contain and soon he'd pushed almost everyone behind the protective wall he'd crafted for himself.

He needed someone to tell him that what he was doing couldn't-- nor should it-- continue.

I’ve written everyone’s number down on the back of this letter just in case you forgot, old man. I hijacked the Rockbell’s landline so I can have a phone in my room. Feel free to call whenever after seven.

I don't care if it's ass o'clock in the morning, call me if you need me or wanna talk or whatever.

Talk to you soon, hopefully.

-Ed

He didn't use the phone for a good three hours until the hands on the clock were just shy of eleven. He tried two fingers of scotch to help him sleep, but it left a smoky aftertaste in his mouth that brought up too many memories of being a walking crematorium.

He finished spinning the dial and waited for the call to be picked up or ignored. It wasn’t that he thought Ed was lying about being able to call whenever, but Ed couldn’t guarantee he’d be by the phone at all times.

There was a click and then a familiar voice echoing through the receiver. “Rockbell Automail, the store hours are from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. but if this is an emergency we’ll see what we can do,” Ed recited before continuing with a knowing tone, “Unless this is a certain soldier out in the middle of nowhere up North who received his package and decided to give me a call.”

Roy wasn’t one you would call a religious man, but he considered praying for patience. “Hello, Edward,” he conceded.

“Fuck… holy fuck Roy,” Ed said with the sort of casual blasphemy only he would dare. There was a shuffling on the other end of the line. “You actually called.”

“Time hasn’t made you any less explicit,” Roy teased. He imagined a metal middle finger jerked at him in return.

“It’s been what? A month?” Ed snorted, “If my cursing hasn’t changed since I was a kid then a month has no chance of changing it.”

He grinned and propped his head up with his hand. “You’re right about that.” He looked around the room for something to focus on, landing on Ed’s letter. “How are you?” The question came out softer than he’d like, but it’s what he meant.

Ed made a noncommittal noise. “It’s weird. The old lady and Winry keep treating me like I’m still a little kid. Maybe it’s because they didn’t get to see me grow up over the last two years. But they’re doing their best to adjust.”

Roy hummed in understanding. “It’s not dissimilar to a person coming back from deployment. They know the person who left, not necessarily the person who comes back.”

“Yeah, I guess… It’s still taking some getting used to. How come you didn’t treat me like I was the teen you last saw?”

“You’re a brat, but it was easy to see you’d changed.” That golden hair pulled back into a ponytail instead of his signature braid. The broad shoulders that filled out his brown trenchcoat and the bookish outfit underneath. He might mourn the loss of the man’s leather pants, but he looked every inch of the man he’d become. His thoughts made him brave. “You’ve become quite the looker, Ed.”

A sputter from the other line had Roy chuckling into his shoulder. It’s enchanting to hear Ed’s embarrassment over the phone and a longing yawned in his chest to see the ruby flush against the man’s cheeks. To see the way he’d turn incredulous eyes to gawk at Roy like he’d spoken gibberish. To see Ed fight the smile that’d reveal his teeth in joy instead of a threat.

He just wanted Ed. Here, with him. Or him with Ed. Together.

Glettner was more aware of Roy’s feelings than he was.

“-up! I hope you’re not mocking me you ass,” Ed grumbleing finally making it through Roy’s thoughts.

“I’m not mocking you, you really are beautiful.”

The line remained silent for a stretch and Roy wondered briefly if he’d pushed Ed a little too much. That he’d made the man uncomfortable with his sudden forwardness.

“You look pretty good yourself,” Ed mumbled.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest and his cheeks grew warm. “Not much to look at compared to you,” Roy managed to say.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” the eye roll unmistakably tacked onto the statement. “I’m guessing you couldn’t sleep.”

“Couldn’t I have called you because I wanted to hear your voice?”

Ed actually laughed at that. “You could and I’m flattered, bastard, but I can hear the exhaustion in your voice.”

“Alright, yes I can’t sleep.”

“What do you want me to do about that?”

What indeed. He already felt better after hearing Ed’s voice so perhaps more of that? “Tell me about your day.”

“As long as you're willing to pay anything the Rockbell’s might be charged for the long-distance call, I’ll talk all night.”

“Just until I fall asleep should do the trick.”

“Well get comfy and I’ll tell you about my return to city hall.”

Roy settled as comfortably as he could on his couch and closed his eyes, letting himself drift upon the lilts and steadiness of Ed’s voice.

As they reach the two-month mark of their separation, Roy was getting antsy. His transfer back to Central seemed to be in a stalemate. Too much silence from both sides for Roy’s patience to tolerate. He already sent another letter to Ed to inform him that he still didn’t have a timeframe for his return.

With no set date for his relocation, he got wrapped up in his thoughts. The snow bit angrily at his cheeks and he’d started moving his post office trips to every three days because he couldn’t get his body to plow through the snow. The cabin’s walls were thin and the flames fanned uselessly in the fireplace no matter how close Roy put himself to the heat source.

Loneliness he’d been able to ignore for years was near intolerable now. He’d talked to his team, reconnected with Riza, or at least started mending the relationship that’d been damaged in the wake of Bradley’s defeat and the loss of his eye.

But ever since his realization during the phone call with Ed, nothing seemed to fill the Ed-sized space in his heart. He pondered on the feelings he’d developed for Ed, questioned why he loves him but only came up with Ed himself as the reason.

He took a sip of his tea when he heard a knock on his door.

The suddenness of the noise was enough to startle him into almost dropping his mug and he turned a wary eye to his door. He didn’t get visitors, not out here. The only time anyone had visited him it’d been about the strange phenomenon that ultimately led to Ed returning home to them.

He doubted something that severe would pop-up again in such a short span of time, but stranger things had happened so he couldn’t rule out the possibility.

Slipping on his gloves, he cautiously approached the door. He waited until he heard another knock before he openned the door, his fingers poised to snap.

And there’s Ed.

Snow and ice clung to his clothes and he noted that Ed’s trench coat seemed to now be lined with a fur of some kind. He took in Ed’s wind-chafed skin and red nose, saw the ice crystals that had attempted to attach themselves to his lashes.

This couldn’t be real. He must’ve fallen asleep and he’s dreaming. He had to be.

Except Ed was waving his hand obnoxiously in his face, grinning at him with the pride of a show dog. “You still in there or did I break you?” Ed asked.

He gaped uselessly at the figure that stood in front of him. “Ed?” He rasped, still not believing his eyes.

“The one and only.” He tilted his head to the side, his smile going lazy. “Are you gonna make me stay out here much longer? Because I’m pretty sure my toes have fucking frozen off and I only have five. I really can’t lose them.”

Roy snapped his jaw shut with a click and stepped back to let Ed in. “Yeah, of course, come in.”

Ed blustered in with all the hesitation of a tornado, stripping out of his dripping coat and unwinding the scarf from around his neck, hanging both over his kitchen table.

“Thank fuck you have a fireplace,” Ed grunted, holding both of his hands out towards the heat source. “If Winry and Granny hadn’t hooked me up with this new automail I would’ve really gotten frostbite.”

Roy nodded absent-mindedly, still stuck on the reality that Ed was here in his cabin. “How-How did you get here?”

Ed’s forehead furrowed. “Well after I took a train up here I asked around if anyone knew where I’d find a soldier with an eyepatch, the postman pointed me in the right direction.” He shrugged. “Then I walked here.”

He'd have to thank Glettner the next time he saw him. Or avoid him at all cost because the man was never going to let him live this down. He probably felt like he was some sort of matchmaker, guaranteeing Ed made it to him.

“Through all the snow?”

The man squinted at him. “Yes?” It came out as a question more than an answer. “Are you okay? You’re really stuck on this whole ‘Ed’s here with me’ thing.”

And what’s he supposed to say to that? That he’s still convinced that this could only be a dream because this sort of thing doesn’t happen to him. “I just never expected you to come here.”

He gets a bemused expression from Ed for that. “Why not? I got your letter.” He huffed and lounged on his couch. “So they can’t even give you a date?”

He shook his head. “Not now, maybe in a week or two, I’ll get an answer from them.” Roy shuffled awkwardly for a moment trying to decide what to say. “Do you want some tea?”

Ed snorted, his nose crinkling. “I could go for some tea, but I’m fine with something stronger if you've got it.”

He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms. “Don’t you mean if I’m feeling generous?”

“Nope,” Ed chimed.

“Let’s start with tea,” Roy snagged the only other mug he owned and poured Ed a cup, “get you warm first. After that?” He handed the mug to Ed who took it gratefully. “We’ll see about alcohol.”

Humming in agreement Ed took an aborted sip, cursing as the liquid scorched his tongue. “Fuck, dammit you could’ve warned me it was this hot,” Ed grumbled, glaring at his mug.

“I didn’t know you were expecting cold tea.”

“Bastard.”

“Brat.”

The jibes were gentle despite themselves and Roy felt the familiar contentment in his being that he’d been getting when he was with Ed in any capacity. Whether it’s a phone call or in-person or even in a letter. Ed remained a stained glass masterpiece in his heart.

They sat in campanionable silence. The flickering of the fireplace casted a red glow around the room except for Ed. Ed’s always an exception. Instead of the red overlay across Ed, he glowed gold.

His skin -- tanned and scarred-- reminded Roy of wedding rings and sun-warmed bronze. His eyes of finely crafted jewelry and the lace-gold details in famous paintings from the west. And his hair. The finest silk, bundled into a ponytail that trailed to at least the bottom of his shoulder blades.

He desperately wanted to say something to hear more of Ed’s voice. A voice that had haunted his mind for the past two years. A desperation to take, take, take until he had all of Ed.

“I didn’t get to say this before,” Ed said, finally breaking their silence. “But I’m a fan of the eyepatch.”

From anyone else, he would’ve ignored the comment, but Roy knew that Ed was being serious right now. “It was a necessity after Bradley got it,” Roy said, setting his cup down and bringing a hand to the patch. “It isn’t a pretty sight, even Hawkeye had trouble looking at it.”

“I doubt that,” Ed took another sip from his drink, “if anything she probably still feels guilty that you lost it at all.”

He made a noncommittal noise. “No one should feel guilty about this, I got it taking Bradley down. And I survived.”

“You did.” Ed grinned at him. “And I think the patch makes you look rugged.”

Roy snorted and quirked a brow at him. “Sure that’s not just from living out here for the past two years?”

Ed’s eyes rolled so hard that Roy’s surprised they didn’t just pop out of his skull. “You haven’t grown any stupid facial hair yet so I’d say it’s the patch.”

“You don’t think I’d look good with facial hair?”

The tips of Ed’s ears flushed. “I didn’t say that,” he mumbled, “I am saying you’d look god awful with a moustache.”

There is a niggling temptation to grow one just to get on Ed's nerves but he pushed that thought aside. He heaved a dramatic sigh. "I suppose I'll refrain for now."

Ed laughed and it reverberated through him with the warmth of an embrace. He wanted to bottle the noise up and tuck it into the spaces between his ribs. Roy couldn't remember the last time he felt this content.

The other man was still looking at him when he focused back on their conversation. "Can I see it?"

Roy’s face closed off and he shifted awkwardly on the couch. “You… you want to see it?” He clarified because surely he'd heard wrong.

Ed shrugged and scooted a little closer. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He asked like it should be obvious to Roy, but doesn’t comment on it. Roy couldn't bring himself to deny Ed something that Roy was readily willing to give. Wanted to give. And maybe there's a small part of him that wanted to show someone. To not have someone shy away from the topic. To look at all of him now and not who he was before.

Maybe he didn't just leave Central because he wanted to still help his country through a corrupt system.

Maybe he was tired of hiding.

He reached his hand up towards the strings that held his eyepatch in place but hesitates. "Are you sure you want to see it?" He wondered if he would want to see it if this was someone else. He knew for sure that he’d want to see Ed. Roy swore to himself that he’d never hesitate to look at Ed’s scars, not a single one of them would be skipped by his eyes.

Ed's eyes softened and he moved himself closer to Roy. They were barely a foot away from the other, their knees knocking together. The solid press of Ed’s automail knee against his own was surprisingly grounding. He wonderd if anyone else felt this way about Ed’s prosthetic limbs.

Ed didn't hesitate when he cupped Roy's face with his metal hand. He expected the harsh metal to be icy to the touch – unlike his leg that was still covered by the thick material of Ed’s pants – but it was heat-licked by the fire. Roy couldn't help but lean into the touch with a pleased sigh.

Mirth twinkled in Ed's eyes like honeyed gold. He ran his thumb along the bottom edge of his eyepatch. "I'm sure."

I want to see you. That’s what Roy heard inbetween Ed’s words. It didn't need to be said. Ed had already proven his surety with his touch, but it comforted Roy to hear it all the same.

The satin ties of his eyepatch were easy enough to undo after he loosened the knot and soon the patch was fluttering down into his lap. He kept the eye closed for now, letting Ed see the mess of scars from the enucleation and trauma from Bradley’s blade. He watched Ed’s face for any reaction through his good eye, watching as he took in his face as a whole.

The first brush of Ed’s metal hand on the scars had him letting out a shuddering breath. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest and he couldn’t stop his sudden panic. It’s just Ed. Edward was the only one here with him. It’s just them. Together. Here. Now and not then. This steel was warm and nothing like the biting edge of a blade.

A second hand joined the first, this one with calluses and worn nails that worked their way through his hair. Instantly, he found himself relaxing under the ministrations of Ed’s talented fingers. Losing time or just forgetting everything that wassn’t Edward Elric.

“Come on, lemme see those eyes of yours, Colonel Bastard,” Ed urged, his thumb teasing along Roy’s cheekbone.

Despite himself, Roy found himself smiling. “Not a colonel anymore, Fullmetal,” he reminded Ed, “and I only have one eye.”

“Not Fullmetal anymore, Roy.”

He could hear his name on Ed’s lips for the rest of his life and Roy would never stop feeling his heart skip a beat. “Ed.”

Slowly, he opened both of his eyes and went back to watching Ed’s face. The breath hitched in Ed’s lungs for only a second before it settled back to normal. Roy couldn’t blame him. The clear conformer that prevented his eyelid from collapsing into the socket gave a clear view of the hollow interior. He hadn’t bothered getting a prosthetic eye, not when he’d been out here by himself for so long. His doctors still weren’t sure when he would even be able to wear one given the damage done to his eyelid and ocular cavity.

Instead of the multitude of reactions that Roy had prepared himself for, Ed gave him a gentle smile and cupped his face with both hands. “There you are.”

“How do I look?” Roy asked as though he couldn’t see the way Ed looks at him.

Maybe he couldn’t, because there’s a touch of uncertainty to Roy’s question that he couldn’t write off. Whether it’s over the way the scars mar his handsome face or over what Ed might think about his appearance, Roy couldn’t decide.

“Like you can take on the world,” Ed said without hesitation.

Stealing himself, Roy closed the distance between them and sealed their mouths together. Ed’s lips are chapped from his journey through the snow, but warm and solid against his own. He didn’t intensify the kiss, keeping it chaste since Ed hadn’t started to kiss him back.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Ed trying to catch the younger man’s eyes. Did he ruin this? “Ed?”

“Kiss me again,” Ed ordered but didn’t bother waiting for Roy to act, instead grabbing two handfuls of his shirt and smashing their lips together.

It’s messy, too much tongue and their teeth clack painfully against each other like Ed wanted to devour him, but he dived right in. He took control of the kiss, guiding Ed’s lips to slide against his own at a more sedate pace. The corners of his mouth turned up when Ed sighed against his mouth, a near-silent moan escaping him.

Roy trailed a hand up Ed’s back until he reached the end of the man’s ponytail. He wrapped the silken strands around his fingers and tugged lightly. Ed splayed his hands against the plains of his chest, releasing his shirt from his grasp.

When he found himself desperate for oxygen, he pulled away once more. Ed made a displeased groan but sat back enough to stare at Roy.

The affection and happiness that sparkled in Ed’s eyes was overwhelming and he couldn’t help but tell Ed exactly how he felt. “I think I love you,” Roy whispered.

Ed smiled back at him, his lips kiss-bruised and tempting. “Why do you think I’m here, Roy?”

He didn’t have to say it because Ed always showed you how he felt. So when Ed tilted his head back, Roy capitulates to the silent request, sealing their mouths together again.

A flame captured by the glint of gold and steel.

#fmasecretsanta2020 #RoyEd #fma 03 #falling in love #secret santa #fma #fanfic #royed fic #roy's eyepatch as a plot point #eye trauma is mentioned but very briefly and it doesn't mention any blood #letter writing as a wooing tactic #Roy is PINING #Ed is PINING #They're idiots in love until they aren't #Ed's CoS outfit #conqueror of shamballa and end of 03 mentioned #Glettner is any RoyEd fan really #my fic #my fanfic

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wizardessheart-sideb · 5 years

Video

youtube

In today’s episode we talk about Vincent’s sequel and maybe getting Joel’s soon-ish.

As per usual, the video is hardsubbed in English, but here’s a full transcript under the cut

HEWWO!

Hello everyone, welcome to Royal Magic Academy Radio, a podcast about Wizardess Heart. I’m your host, Mari. I’ve finally emerged from my haze that came with Fire Emblem: Three Houses coming out and now that I’m like 60 hours into that game, it’s time to focus on my other emotional support game *laughs*. But in all seriousness. So some housekeeping things: I’m going to make this podcast biweekly so episodes are a bit longer and I’ve got more time to prepare for them. I’m also wanting to branch back into my older interests as well as make more otome content, so this podcast being biweekly will also give me more time to work on those other projects. But yeah, that’s it. So without further ado, let’s get started.

GAMING NEWS

In gaming news, a new star collection event debuted. The Pit of Curiosities is circus-themed, and yes, Caesar’s in it, which I have to admit made me nervous laugh when I first saw it because. You know. Apparently he’s not re-traumatized though, so it’s fine. I’m saying apparently because I haven’t read it. To be honest, I haven’t read any of the stories because I’m just really not feeling this line-up. I also don’t have a huge nostalgic soft spot for circuses and fairs like a lot of people do, so I guess that’s also feeding into my apathy for this event. My mom never let me on rides at the fair and I was never really into the carnival games or food so I just. Never went that often and never developed a love for fairs or circuses.

The Seasonal Slot: Blue Ocean is back, and it’s running until September which is a blessing considering it has a lot of items and it’s 1,000 Romance Points per spin. I wasn’t playing when this slot first came out so I’m glad I have a chance to play it.

Before I say a quick word about Joel, I want to give a heads up that the sequels mechanic is a little different now from when it first debuted. You have to spend at least one story ticket on the dude’s main story in order to read the sequel, and thank you to tumblr user einhornaufzuchtstation for the tip about only spending one ticket, and also I’m sorry if I just butched your url. But yeah, you can’t go straight into the sequel anymore.

And finally, Joel’s early bird is being reran! It’s not a super long period, but it’s something.

FUTURE EVENTS/SPECULATION

So let’s talk about Joel for a moment in a more speculative way. If we all recall, Joel was number 1 on the sequel poll results Solmare did back in December. I’m kinda thinking this rerun may mean we’ll be getting the sequels fairly soon, or at least we’ll be getting Joel’s soon. I calculated the average time between a route’s rerun and the sequel release day, and it’s an average of 32 days, meaning theoretically, we could have Joel’s sequel around September 1. However, I wouldn’t hold my breath for it. Solmare’s been inconsistent because, remember, they reran Elias and then hurriedly reran Vincent and didn’t release Elias’ sequel for another couple months. But I do think this is a sign that the next batch of sequels is coming soon. I mean, we are going to get them eventually.

FANDOM HISTORY

It’s time for Fandom History! Originally for this segment, I was gonna talk about Klaus 2 Electric Boogaloo, but since we potentially have the sequels coming up, I think it’d be fun to talk about the sequels and the mystery of what the hell happened with Vincent’s sequel. So I guess we’re really molding Fandom History with Wizcourse, Fandom Chat, and Theory Time.

The year is 2018. Klaus and Yukiya’s sequels have been released and we’ve had reruns of Klaus, Elias, Yukiya, and Vincent’s main routes. We know there’s a sequel on the way and most people think it’s Elias’ since his main route was reran literally right after Klaus’ back in October 2017. And since we’d already gotten Klaus and Yukiya’s sequels, the fandom figured he was next. But we were in for a rude awakening.

Ultimately, we figured out Vincent’s sequel was being released first and the Tumblr fandom wasn’t exactly happy. A lot of people were confused how Vincent ranked in the top 5 anyway, but it felt like Solmare was skipping over Elias, which yeah, they kinda were. If we’d gotten the sequels in main route rerun order, we would’ve gotten Elias’ sequel before Yukiya’s, but obviously that didn’t happen. People were kind of lukewarm to Veincent’s sequel.

But then something happened that surprised everyone. There was an actual, real leak of Vincent’s sequel CGs on Tumblr. Now, our fandom uses the word “leak” as a blanket word sometimes, but when I mean leak, I really do mean it was a leak. All the CGs were posted before his sequel was released. And unfortunately, I can’t find this original post. I’ve searched for it before and I still can’t find any trace of it.

And as you can imagine, a lot of people were shocked that one, this happened, and two, to see Tsukasa Kuze in these CGs. A lot of people, myself included, who weren’t going to play Vincent’s sequel, were now going to play it for Tsukasa. And tbh that’s something I hear a lot that people who played his sequel either actually like Vincent or they played it for Tsukasa. So when his sequel dropped, people flocked to it and. Well.

I can say with certainty that no one was expecting Vincent’s sequel to be like that. It’s still considered one of the worst sequels, if not the worst and one of the worst routes in the game. The plot was all over the place, it felt rushed, and it wasn’t a satisfying read. Also they took away my precious baby boy from me AGAIN so that didn’t make me happy. But anyway, it was a hot mess and people were curious as to why.

Klaus’ sequel wasn’t perfect, the deus ex machina in it was a bit on the nose, but it was still a fun read and satisfying. Yukiya’s sequel was quite literally amazing and incredibly well-done and it still holds up today. So for Vincent’s sequel to flop so badly was a huge shock. So naturally we did what any fandom does in times like this: try and think of a reason why this happened.

There’s the possibility Solmare was just trying to do too many ideas at once and they got caught up in it. You have the Philosopher’s stone drama, Devi, Tsukasa, Vincent’s job at the ministry, the school trip, the wedding planning. There was a LOT packed into Vincent’s sequel.

There’s also the possibility that Vincent’s sequel wasn’t supposed to drop so early, but something happened with development and it got pushed forward and as a result, was rushed and the writers weren’t able to fully develop the story.

In the end, we’re never really going to know what happened with Vincent’s sequel, but it’s definitely going to be a memorable part of our fandom history.

DARLING OF THE MONTH

It’s that time again! It’s time to crown another Darling of the Month! Now, I was originally going to wait to showcase this dude and have him be our December Darling, but it’s 4am and I’m feeling self-indulgent so this month’s darling is Sigurd! Anyone who comments about pasta will be BLOCKED and REPORTED! Sigurd is a sweetheart and a flirt and and all-around great guy. He’s also a good tutor and very nice to look at. Not to mention he’s so encouraging. Sigurd’s honest-to-God boyfriend material. Congrats Sigurd on being bumped up like a whole bunch of months! Next episode will have a route review.

BYE BYE!

That’ll do it for us this week! Next time we’re doing the call and response I PROMISE, I won’t forget to put the prompt on Tumblr this time. And with that, it’s time for me to return to Fodlan and my new video game husbands Dimitri and Felix. This is Mari, signing off.

#wizardess heart #shall we date wizardess heart #shall we date wizardess #wizardess heart+#rmar

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marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer · 7 years

Text

MTVS Epic Rewatch #170

BTVS 6X17 NORMAL AGAIN

DON’T FORGET TO VOTE ON THE SEASON 6 POLLS!

Stray thoughts

1) I usually enjoy alternate universe episodes, and this is no exception. Shit got serious super quickly…

2) But then the demon is gone and Buffy is just passed out against the car?

So if the Trio wanted to kill her, wasn’t this the perfect opportunity? Or if they knew how to summon this demon so that she would think she was crazy, why didn’t they do it earlier? I mean, on the one hand, it makes for a great episode, but on the other hand, it kind of doesn’t make sense.

3) Sweet Willow!

WILLOW: Hi, Tara, how are you? Well, I was wondering, maybe, you would wanna go out sometime? For coffee... food... kisses and gay love?

4) I love the fact that we got this little glimpse into Tara’s life outside the Scoobies, even if it’s only meant to make Willow jealous.

She has friends, okay? Other friends! She’s not just Willow’s girlfriend, even if that’s most of we got to see. And she’s still taking her classes. And she really seems to have become more confident and self-assured.

5) This is BFFing done right…

BUFFY: How come you're all, home, hearth, and DSL anyway? I thought you were gonna go see Tara. WILLOW: Saw her. Saw her completely. BUFFY: Ouch. Just got a scratch from all that brittle. WILLOW: It's... when I was seeing her, she was seeing someone else. A girl. BUFFY: You mean- WILLOW: I mean... not "seeing" seeing. Well, maybe. I don't know, it was inconclusive, and I didn't stick around to find out. Might have magicked my fist through a wall or something, BUFFY: Will, I'm sorry. WILLOW: I mean, they're probably just friends. I press my lips against my friends’ all the time. BUFFY: I'm sure they're just friends. Once you fall for Willow, you stay fallen.

6) Xander really doesn’t know what he wants, though… which is precisely the reason he shouldn’t be looking for Anya and start “dating” her again...

XANDER: I don't know how stuff got so mixed up! I blew it. BUFFY: No. Wel ... maybe it wasn't the best time to break up with her, but... XANDER: No. It wasn't about breaking up. I love her, and god, I miss her so much. WILLOW: So, you left her at the altar, but you still wanna- BUFFY: You still wanna date? XANDER: I guess. I know that I'm a better person with her in my life. But things got so complicated with the wedding, and with my family, and with her... demons, and... what if it all goes to hell, and forever? But then I left... and ever since... I've had this painful hole inside. And I'm the idiot that dug it out. I screwed up real bad.

7) This is a very underrated Spuffy moment, I think…

Even if she admits she’s not there looking for him, she does stop and sit down to talk to him. It definitely looks like she misses him, probably not in the “I can’t live without you I love you so much” kind of way but in the “you’re someone who sort of understands me and whom I occasionally enjoy talking to.” And she opens up and tells him all the Scoobies going-ons. I don’t know, I think it’s all kind of sweet.

8) Now this was a plot twist (and I don’t think it was a coincidence that she blacked out when her friends started fighting…)

Because, you see, she escapes from the harsh reality in which her friends are fighting and she’s been secretly sleeping with someone who she’s supposed to hate (and whom most of her friends certainly hate...) to a fantasy world in which the person she finds the most comfort in is still alive and there to help her.

9) I really love this AU, guys. I mean, I don’t love the fact that Buffy’s crazy in it, and that’s she’s not really Buffy... but I think it’s cool how it could actually be true, you know?

BUFFY: What is this? DOCTOR: Do you know where you are, Buffy? BUFFY: Sunnydale. DOCTOR: No, none of that's real, none of it. You're in a mental institution. You've been with us now for six years. Do you remember?

10) I really think this is all very well written. It all just makes sense, you know? (which is exactly the reason Buffy will start to call her own reality in question...)

DOCTOR: For the last six years, she's been in an undifferentiated type of schizophrenia. (...) Buffy's delusions are multi-layered. She believes she's some type of hero. (...) The Slayer, right, but that's only one level. She's also created an intricate latticework to support her primary delusion. In her mind, she's the central figure in a fantastic world beyond imagination. (...) She's surrounded herself with friends, most with their own superpowers... who are as real to her as you or me. More so, unfortunately. Together they face... grand overblown conflicts against an assortment of monsters both imaginary and rooted in actual myth. Every time we think we're getting through to her, more fanciful enemies magically appear- (...) A magical key. Buffy inserted Dawn into her delusion, actually rewriting the entire history of it to accommodate a need for a familial bond. Buffy, but that created inconsistencies, didn't it? Your sister, your friends, all of those people you created in Sunnydale, they aren't as comforting as they once were. Are they? They're coming apart. (...) Buffy, you used to create these grand villains to battle against, and now what is it? Just ordinary students you went to high school with. No gods or monsters... just three pathetic little men... who like playing with toys.

I especially love the meta-commentary on Dawn’s appearance and her impact on the show’s mythology, and the one on The Trio and how un-big-bad they are.

11) And then the retcon...

WILLOW: You are not in an institution. You have never been in an institution. BUFFY: Yes, I have. WILLOW: What? BUFFY: Back when I saw my first vampires... I got so scared. I told my parents... and they completely freaked out. They thought there was something seriously wrong with me. So they sent me to a clinic. WILLOW: You never said anything. BUFFY: I was only there a couple of weeks. I stopped talking about it, and they let me go. Eventually... my parents just... forgot. WILLOW: God. That's horrible. BUFFY: What if I'm still there? What if I never left that clinic?

And while it may give another layer to why Buffy always tried so hard to hide her identity from her mother (I still think the only reason she didn’t say anything was to protect Joyce, but I’ll concede this might be another reason…), there are a lot of lines and moments between Buffy and Joyce in previous seasons that really don’t make sense in light of this new information. Like, why would Buffy joke about vampires in front of her mom knowing that the last time she claimed they were real she ended up in a mental institution? Or how come when Buffy “came out” in Becoming Joyce looked as if this was the first time she’d heard any of this (which it was! hence her reaction)? I get the writers try to explain away the lack of reference in previous seasons to Buffy’s stay in a mental institution by claiming that their parents eventually forgot and that she never brought it up because she was only there a couple of weeks. But I still feel like this would have come up at some point or another, and it certainly makes moments like this...

...odd to say the least.

12) I hate Spike for making this about him. He honestly believes the only reason Buffy is indulging in the mental institution fantasy is so that she can pretend she has never slept with him. He knows, probably better than anyone else, the kind of issues she’s been dealing with since she was brought back. You might be good in the sack, Spike, but there is a myriad other reasons Buffy’s trying to delude herself. Get a grip.

SPIKE: So, she's having the wiggins, is she? Thinks none of us are real. Bloody self-centered, if you ask me. XANDER: Spike, we need muscle, not color commentary. SPIKE: On the other hand, it might explain some things... this all being in that twisted brain of hers. Yeah. Thinks up some chip in my head. Make me soft, fall in love with her, then turn me into her soddin' sex slave- XANDER: What?! SPIKE: Nothing. Alternative realities. Where we're all little figments of Buffy's funny-farm delusion.

A) Bloody self-centered? Pot, meet kettle. B) If anyone shouldn’t have been surprised to find out Buffy had been sleeping with Spike, it should’ve been Xander. Evidence: 1. the touchy situation he ran into at Buffy’s kitchen in Gone. 2. the ghost “exercise” in the same episode. 3. THIS. Spike basically admitted to it!

13) I think this is an underrated funny moment if you ask me.

SPIKE: Oh, balls. You didn't say he was a Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik. XANDER: 'Cause I can't say glar...

14) And why wouldn’t Buffy give into this reality?

JOYCE VOICEOVER: You don't have a sister, Buffy.

BUFFY: Dawn? JOYCE: No, honey. Say it. It'll help you believe it.

BUFFY: I ... don't ... have a sister. I know I, I didn't grow up with her. These monks, they-they made her.

HANK: It's your mind, just playing tricks on you.

JOYCE: You're our little girl, Buffy. Our one and only. We've missed you so much. Mom and Dad just want to take you home and take care of you.

15) Ay ay ay Dawn, I get you, I really really do, but this is so not the time…

DAWN: I'm not even there, am I? BUFFY: What? DAWN: You said it a second ago. You don't have a sister. It's your ideal reality, and I'm not even a part of it.

A) Why would Buffy’s ideal reality be being a patient in a mental asylum? B) Buffy is clearly struggling to juggle the two realities and to try and discern what is real and what is not, so maybe cut her a break if her mind is playing tricks on her?

16) You’re a pig, Spike. (Also, I can’t help but notice the parallels between this scene and the one with Buffy and Angel in earshot. I don’t know if the writers intended for this scene to parallel that one, but it’s made abundantly clear why soulless Spike is not right or good for Buffy. While Angel took care of Buffy and put her needs first, Spike takes the opportunity to make it all about him and to hurt her and threaten her.)

SPIKE: I hope you don't think this antidote's gonna rid you of that nasty martyrdom. See, I figured it out, luv. You can't help yourself. You're not drawn to the dark like I thought. You're addicted to the misery. It's why you won't tell your pals about us. Might actually have to be happy if you did. They'd either understand and help you, god forbid... or drive you out... where you can finally be at peace, in the dark. With me. Either way, you'd be better off for it, but you're too twisted for that. Let yourself live, already. And stop with the bloody hero trip for a sec. We'd all be the better for it. You either tell your friends about us ... or I will.

He’s trying to dress his intentions of trying to force her to come clean to her friends as selfless (you’d be better off for it) but in reality, he’s desperate because he’d expected Buffy to come back running into his arms by now, and she hadn’t. So this is his last ditch effort to manipulate her.

17) And then...

Bravo, Spike.

But see... this is the reason she made this call:

BUFFY: I wanna be healthy again. What do I have to do?

“I wanna be healthy again.” It all boils down to that. This is how she feels in both realities. She wants to be healthy, she wants to feel normal, she wants to be herself again. The difference lies in the question: “What do I have to do?” In the real world, Buffy is clueless and more importantly, she doesn’t have anyone to rely on and guide her. In the other reality, not only does she have her parents, but she also has a doctor who is willing to give her a practical answer to that question. She won’t have to figure it out all on her own. She’ll be told what to do, how to fix everything, how to make herself feel better. And then she’ll do it, and it’ll be over.

18) I love how her death is explained…

DOCTOR: You have to start ridding your mind of those things that support your hallucinations. You understand? There are things in that world that you cling to. For your delusion, they're safe-holds, but for your mind they're traps. We have to break those down. BUFFY: Slaying? DOCTOR: Yes... but I'm talking about those things you want there. What keeps you going back. BUFFY: My friends. DOCTOR: That's right. Last summer, when you had a momentary awakening, it was them that pulled you back in.

I mean, that was quite literally what happened...

19) Now, this was a long time coming…

Sorry, Xander stans, I had to. He didn’t deserve it in this episode, though, but I just couldn’t help myself.

20) The real plot twist is the fact Buffy hadn’t questioned her own sanity before this episode…

BUFFY: 'Cause what's more real? A sick girl in an institution... or some kind of supergirl... chosen to... fight demons and... save the world. That's ridiculous.

21) Buffy basically gave away her affair with Spike here, didn’t she?

BUFFY: A girl who sleeps with the vampire she hates?! Yeah, that makes sense.

How did Dawn forget about this? Also, I know the focus of this episode is Buffy, and I know before I said Dawn’s complaints were ill-timed. But I can’t imagine what it must’ve been for Dawn – who had doubted her own realness multiple times because of her origins – to know the person she loves the most in the whole world believes she’s just a figment of her imagination.

22) Bless Tara for her good-timing and magic powers!

And poor Tara!

23)

JOYCE: Buffy? Buffy! Buffy, fight it. You're too good to give in, you can beat this thing. Be strong, baby, ok? I know you're afraid. I know the world feels like a hard place sometimes, but you've got people who love you. Your dad and I, we have all the faith in the world in you. We'll always be with you. You've got... a world of strength in your heart. I know you do. You just have to find it again. Believe in yourself.

I think it’s rather fitting that Buffy find the strength to try and fight her depression by talking to her mom, even if it only was a hallucination. Buffy was feeling lost and defeated and helpless and like she couldn’t cope with… life. She was desperately looking for adult support because she didn’t feel like an adult herself, and she didn’t know what to do, how to fix things. The one parental figure who was still alive had skedaddled when she needed him the most. So, of course, she looked for comfort in her mom in any way she could. And I love the fact that we are lead to believe Joyce’s speech is about convincing Buffy to give into the mental institution reality while in fact, it’s the other way around. Buffy wants to feel like herself again, she wants to be healthy and normal – but her own definition of normal, not the one from hallucination land. And Joyce gave her the strength she needed to face her depression and try and overcome it. This was indeed a turning point for Buffy in this season. I think from now on, she will actively try to get better, and we’ll see her struggling her way to “normal.” I mean, even after what happens in Seeing Red, she still wants to live. And I love how Joyce’s words of encouragement are very similar to Buffy’s own “the hardest thing in this world is to live int it” speech.

24) And then she’s back… and this whole scene reminds a lot of her fight against Adam in Primeval… like, it’s almost a play-by-play of it...

And then the sun shines behind her…

25) And of course, the open end…

which, in my opinion, only means Buffy’s still under the effects of the demon’s drug or whatever (which she is, she hasn’t taken the antidote yet.)

#Buffy the Vampire Slayer #BTVS #Buffy Summers #Joss Whedon #MTVSepicrewatch #BTVSrewatch2015 #mine #recap #Normal Again #btvsrecap

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adambstingus · 7 years

Text

Hey America, you could still be sleepwalking into a Trump presidency

Donald Trump campaigns at the University of Wisconsin, Nov. 1, 2016.

Image: AP/MATT ROURKE

In January 2016, I wrote a column titled “Hey America, you may be sleepwalking into a Donald Trump presidency.” A political lifetime later, it makes for interesting and prophetic reading.

This was before the Iowa caucuses, back when Trump was still widely treated as a joke. Many Democrats believed Trump would be an easier Republican presidential candidate to defeat than his chief rival in the polls, Ted Cruz. Trump was a buffoon, a loudmouth; if by some miracle he made it through the gauntlet of GOP primaries, he’d trip himself up with some supremely idiotic statement or other, and we’d laugh all the way to November.

SEE ALSO: Give America what it deserves: Make election day a holiday

Well, here we are in November, and nobody on the anti-Trump side is laughing anymore. But they are indulging in hubris. Placing a little too much faith in week-old polls and hoped-for turnout levels, they ignore the distinct possibility that enough Hillary Clinton voters may stay home on Tuesday to send him to the White House.

Admit it: we may still be sleepwalking into a Trump presidency.

It isn’t that Democrats were wrong about Trump, either. He has been a buffoon to end all buffoons; his frothing mouth runneth over with idiotic and profoundly disturbing statements. He has been tagged as a serial sex abuser, a tax dodger, a puppet of Putin. He raised an online army of racists, went on bizarre revenge jags and lost three debates in a maelstrom of sniffles and incomplete sentences.

And yet Trump survived, brushing off his accusers with a chilling indifference to decency. Some shocking accusations that Russian security services are blackmailing him, according to a veteran intelligence officer, or that he raped a 13-year-old girl, according to a forthcoming court case are so horrible that even his most rabid opponents don’t want to believe them.

Even Trump’s well-documented transgressions are so many that it’s hard to keep them all top of mind; it’s like playing mental whack-a-mole. (Chances are you too have caught yourself thinking “oh yeah, I almost forgot about the birther movement/Muslim ban/Khan controversy/deportation force/wall.”)

If you’re tired of the election and weren’t really following politics closely anyway, it’s easy to fall for Trump’s patter, his almost hypnotic self-assurance. This was always the danger with him; this is exactly what I was trying to warn about.

He is the ultimate used-car salesman of politics, and is all the more insidious for claiming he’s not a politician. Despite all reason, many a customer will cave under pressure and buy that lemon he’s had on the lot for years.

Trump likes to think of himself as a closer, and he’s right. In the final week of the campaign, he has become scarily disciplined. He’s managed to avoid any further outrage. He’s reading speeches about trade deals and economic hardship from his Teleprompter. Republicans who swore they’d never vote for him are coming back to their candidate for the final stretch, while Democratic enthusiasm for Clinton is dipping in precisely the wrong places at precisely the wrong time.

The Cubs connection

The polls are tightening at both the swing state and national level. They were doing so days before the FBI director’s ridiculously vague statement about a trove of Clinton-related emails last Friday. Statistics nerd Nate Silver’s site, FiveThirtyEight, now gives Trump a one-in-three chance of winning precisely the same chance the Cubs had in the World Series a week ago.

Hey remember three days ago when the Cubs and Trump had the same statistical chance of winning

VOTE

Gary Whitta (@garywhitta) November 3, 2016

Trump has made hay out of the FBI’s misinterpreted misstep; you were probably one of the tens of millions of people who saw his dishonest attack ad during the 10th inning of Game 7 of the World Series, claiming the Feds were “closing in” on “Clinton corruption.” If you think a significant percentage of swing-state voters won’t fall for that crap while they’re amped up on baseball and deep into their fifth beer, I’ve got news for you.

And so despite an avalanche of predictions of his demise, we find Trump an Electoral College anomaly away from victory. Silver’s model again, not his punditry, but a dispassionate and mathematical algorithm based entirely on polls and their past accuracy now gives Trump a more than 1 in 10 chance of losing the popular vote but winning the Electoral College. Just like George W. Bush in 2000, in other words.

And that’s not counting the possibility of a tie. Remember, even if Trump gets 269 Electoral College votes one vote short of a majority that would throw the election into the GOP-dominated House of Representatives, where he’s all but guaranteed to win.

In swing states, the momentum is all in Trump’s direction. As of Thursday, FiveThirtyEight has flipped North Carolina and Florida into the Trump column (albeit by tiny margins but that’s all it takes). If the polls move or are mostly wrong in one or two more states Virginia is all it would take you can start picturing Melania holding the Bible while Chief Justice John Roberts administers the oath to President Trump.

Oh, and guess what.

NEWS: To surprise of Trump Tower, new internal polls put #Virginia in play. @realDonaldTrump & @mike_pence to campaign there in coming days

Major Garrett (@MajorCBS) November 2, 2016

Take it from someone who suffered through the nightmare of Brexit: a smart country can stumble into a result nobody expected. Everyone put too much faith in the polls, too many people thought they could get away with a protest vote, and too many young people stayed home.

This election is all about turnout, and turnout can be skewed

Besides, focusing on polls masks the key point: this election is all about turnout, and turnout can be skewed. North Carolina has admitted in court that it is reducing African-American turnout by minimizing early voting locations in predominately black districts. As I write, the Justice Department is sending poll watchers to the state. It may already be too late.

It is barely talked about today, but I can’t be the only political junkie who remembers George W. Bush winning his second election under dubious circumstances, too. He needed to win Ohio, and Ohio’s Republican leadership was very strategic about where it had placed its polling locations.

As polls closed, there were still long lines of people waiting to vote in Democratic districts. Bush won Ohio by a little over 100,000 votes. The final three polls of the state had John Kerry ahead of Bush by one percent. It is possible that enough Kerry voters were shut out to flip the state, though we’ll never know for sure.

Here in 2016, there are even more factors in play. Will Trump’s evidence-free complaints about a “rigged election” do more to get out his vote and have his supporters intimidate others into not voting than Clinton’s traditional GOTV operation? Will encouraging numbers in early voting help Clinton or hurt her, by leading too many people to assume the election is in the bag?

Nobody can say for sure. The uncertainty level is through the roof. If ever there were a year where polls cannot predict turnout levels on Election Day, where states may flip in unusual directions, it’s this one.

My object here is not to sow fear, but to destroy all traces of hubris. If you’ve read this far, you are almost certain to vote. But will you talk to your friends, your family? Will you sign up for a phone bank, which you can do from the comfort of home? Will you help round up hesitant voters?

Will you combat a growing narrative of “Clinton corruption” with the boring truth that the whole email investigation is one giant nothingburger?

You may not be sleepwalking, stumbling through a nasty dream where small fears become outsized ones. You may not be paralyzed. You may be awake. But if you don’t help rouse America, we may end up with the president of our nightmares.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/16/hey-america-you-could-still-be-sleepwalking-into-a-trump-presidency/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/165383176377

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samanthasroberts · 7 years

Text

Hey America, you could still be sleepwalking into a Trump presidency

Donald Trump campaigns at the University of Wisconsin, Nov. 1, 2016.

Image: AP/MATT ROURKE

In January 2016, I wrote a column titled “Hey America, you may be sleepwalking into a Donald Trump presidency.” A political lifetime later, it makes for interesting and prophetic reading.

SEE ALSO: Give America what it deserves: Make election day a holiday

Admit it: we may still be sleepwalking into a Trump presidency.

The Cubs connection

Hey remember three days ago when the Cubs and Trump had the same statistical chance of winning

VOTE

Gary Whitta (@garywhitta) November 3, 2016

Oh, and guess what.

NEWS: To surprise of Trump Tower, new internal polls put #Virginia in play. @realDonaldTrump & @mike_pence to campaign there in coming days

Major Garrett (@MajorCBS) November 2, 2016

This election is all about turnout, and turnout can be skewed

Will you combat a growing narrative of “Clinton corruption” with the boring truth that the whole email investigation is one giant nothingburger?

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/16/hey-america-you-could-still-be-sleepwalking-into-a-trump-presidency/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/09/16/hey-america-you-could-still-be-sleepwalking-into-a-trump-presidency/

0 notes

allofbeercom · 7 years

Text

Hey America, you could still be sleepwalking into a Trump presidency

Donald Trump campaigns at the University of Wisconsin, Nov. 1, 2016.

Image: AP/MATT ROURKE

In January 2016, I wrote a column titled “Hey America, you may be sleepwalking into a Donald Trump presidency.” A political lifetime later, it makes for interesting and prophetic reading.

SEE ALSO: Give America what it deserves: Make election day a holiday

Admit it: we may still be sleepwalking into a Trump presidency.

The Cubs connection

Hey remember three days ago when the Cubs and Trump had the same statistical chance of winning

VOTE

Gary Whitta (@garywhitta) November 3, 2016

Oh, and guess what.

NEWS: To surprise of Trump Tower, new internal polls put #Virginia in play. @realDonaldTrump & @mike_pence to campaign there in coming days

Major Garrett (@MajorCBS) November 2, 2016

This election is all about turnout, and turnout can be skewed

Will you combat a growing narrative of “Clinton corruption” with the boring truth that the whole email investigation is one giant nothingburger?

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/16/hey-america-you-could-still-be-sleepwalking-into-a-trump-presidency/

0 notes